Page 107 of Silver Player

I unfold my arms and stiffen my back, preparing to leave. Giant and I won’t be able to continue with Dad present.

“How was the courthouse?” Giant asks, and I freeze after my head pops up to him.

What’s he playing at?

“Oh, you know, Bernard and I go way back,” Dad states, dismissively waving a hand like it was routine to stop in and see the old judge.

I turn to face him. “What did you do?” The accusation catches in my throat, and I fight the chill running up my spine.

“I didn’t do anything. He just wanted to talk to me.”

“I don’t need any favors,” I stammer, the statement sarcastic. Did he try to pull strings against me? We glare at one another for a long minute until I’m the one to break. “I’ll be a good father. I might not be perfect, but I’m still going to try.”

I hate how I sound, weak and uncertain, exposing my fear that I won’t be good enough, but I still want this. I want Sadie. And I want Roxie. A family. The new norm for me has slowly been developing when I didn’t see it ever happening. Sadie, Roxie, and me. We are a family—my family—and even though we may be unconventional, the rightness is there. My heart stills. My lungs pause. And it hits me. I realize the thing I want most in my life, and I suddenly know what I need to do to get it.

“You don’t have to be perfect. Trying is all any parent can do.”

I snort, looking back at my father. “Right? Coming from the perfect parent, that’s sage advice.”

“You think I’m perfect?” Dad huffs. “I’ve failed higher than I can count, but the key to anything is to get back up and keeping move forward. You should know this.”

“Because I’m a quitter.”

“Because you always do it.”

I freeze. What is he saying?

Surprising me again, he points at the table littered with growlers and samples. With a growl in his tone, he demands, “Tell me.”

“I…” I glance from the table to my father and then over at Giant, whose hands brace on the wooden top. His head is lowered, his face a shadow. I turn back to my father. “You know, don’t you?”

“You think I don’t know what goes on in my business. I’ve known for years.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I question, glaring at him.

“Why didn’t you?” he retorts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I deeply inhale. For all my trouble in school, I was decent at chemistry, and I loved to experiment, especially with the family brew thanks to Pap. Despite my dyslexia, he taught me chemistry was full of formulas. Memorize those, and I’d never fail. And although I nearly failed out of college, I eventually shared what I could do with Giant. I got a license making me a professional after I’d been working in this brewery for years, playing around in the passion lab on the sly.

“I didn’t want your disapproval.”

“William, this is the second time in a month you’ve mentioned my disapproval. When did I give you that impression?”

I glare at him, ready to tick off all the ways, but then something occurs to me. “If you knew all along, why didn’t you say something to me?”

“Perhaps for the same reason you didn’t mention it to me. I wanted you to be proud of what you’d done and tell me.”

“I am proud,” I state, standing taller. I’ve helped this company in more ways than I’ve been recognized for as both master brewer and pub owner.

“And I’m proud of you,” my dad says. “And I know you’ll be an excellent father.”

If I were ten, my knees might give out, and I’d collapse in disbelief on the spot. His eyes travel over the table, and I glance to the side, looking up at Giant, who is still silent but smiling despite his avoiding face.

“Well, carry on,” Dad says, and he dismisses himself, leaving Giant and me alone again.

“You’re a rat,” I hiss at Giant, who shakes his head and finally looks up at me.

“I couldn’t take all the credit, and like he said, there isn’t anything he doesn’t know about this company. Or you. He knows you’re loyal to a fault. Look at what you’ve been doing for the brewery behind his back while running your own business. He isn’t stupid, Billy.”