AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The face she makes when he compares his arthritis to her carrying twins is something I have to remind myself not to smile about, though.
Even my creepy half-sister calls up every now and then. Not really seeing how Chloe is, but mainly quizzing me on the finer points of managing a global hotel franchise. But she’s doing great there, and dad’s finally got meaningful free time to do all the things he’s never done before.
Including taking up woodworking of all things.
“Now, don’t be stupid,” he snaps. “I made it with my own hands, and I want it to be an heirloom. A keepsake for when I’m gone. I’m not gonna live forever,” he reminds me.
I doubt that every time I check the calendar or see him again after he’s been gone a few weeks.
He actually seems to be getting younger the more time he spends being the new man he’s become.
“What’s he bought now?” Chloe asks, coming out onto the porch with baby Zac on her hip, who I take from her.
Opening my eyes and mouth wide until he makes a gurgling sound, and then I kiss his belly, blowing a raspberry.
“I think he’s made something,” I tell Chloe, who gives me that look she does whenever my dad buys us stuff.
As if we need more stuff.
As if we don’t have money of our own.
“Be nice,” I remind her in my best baby voice, keeping Zac entertained as well as keeping the spirits of a wife pregnant with twins up as high as I dare at this hour before her nap.
“Oh my god…,” Chloe mutters under her breath, moving to help Kenneth Condor haul whatever it is he’s manufactured up onto the porch.
And here I am, almost seven feet of pure muscle, cradling a twenty-pound infant.
But he’s way more precious than whatever my dad’s toting.
“Be careful, darling,” I remind her. My heart is always in my throat whenever she does anything, goes anywhere, or even tries to do something by herself without my help.
“Condor, what have you got there?” I ask my dad jokingly, ignoring his serious expression at first. Thinking maybe he’s just overdone it by lugging the thing up to the house.
But Chloe’s looking more puffed than he is, and I ask if she’s okay, only satisfied when she gives the thumbs up.
“I’m… Okay…” she says, puffing air and clutching her swollen belly.
I wonder when dad’s leaving. It’s about time for mommy and daddy’s quiet time this afternoon… Then again, the old man could watch Zac….
“Xander! You listening?” he asks me sharply “Now this is made from – No peeking!” he snaps at Chloe, smiling as he wags his finger.
“As I was saying… This is. Was originally some of the timbers from the old church behind the club before it collapsed. Some say the olive wood was brought over from the old country. Some many many years old,” he exclaims.
But I’m thinking it’s just the old man being prone to exaggerating again.
Bragging as usual.
Until he lifts the sheet covering the bassinet he’s made himself from scratch.
I feel my heart go, but then I remind myself that it is Kenneth Condor I’m dealing with.
Chloe’s already wiping her eyes, moving over to the crib, and pointing it out to little baby Zac.
“You… You made this?” I ask my dad, hearing my voice catch.
“It’s beautiful, Ken. It really is. Oh my God, these joints are perfect,” Chloe exclaims.
“Not a drop of glue required.” My dad boasts. “Every joint I chiseled out by hand, every joint as snug as the tree when it was in the ground.”
I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Even to have someone make this professionally.
It would take weeks. Months.
“Well shit… I dunno what to say, dad,” I tell him, noticing how proud he looks, but only because he gets to give away all his hard work.
Something I’ve noticed he enjoys doing now instead of hoarding his wealth.
He’s giving it away faster than he’s earning it.
“That’s the whole point!” He keeps reminding me.
“Honey? Take a look here,” Chloe calls out to me, and both dad and I move over to take a closer look.
“Jesus, dad…It’s beautiful.” I exclaim, noticing the Z.A.C he’s inlaid into the woodwork, making it a part of the whole design.
“Zac Alexander Condor,” he announces with added pride. “And watch your language around my grandchildren,” he cautions me, smiling before he slaps me on the back.
The slap that turns into the first hug I’ve ever given him.
“Ah, jeez, son, you’re making an old man cry,” he sniffs and grips me harder, making no effort to let go of me.
“Chloe?” My dad says firmly. “Get over here, and bring that kid with ya.”
We stand on our porch, all five of us.
Me and my dad. My darling wife Chloe, baby Zac, and the twins who will be born in about three months’ time.
