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Then everything came to an end.
“You sure it’s okay to be away from school all this time?” Dad asks amidst the sound of chopping. “It’s been a week since you came home.”
“Yeah. I told my supervising professor I’d be working on my graduation piece from here.” I smile and joke, “Bored of me already?”
“Nonsense. I’d rather you move back in. You know that.” He sighs. “Have kids, they said. They’ll keep you company, they said. And here I am trying not to haul the three of you back home.”
“You and Uncle Aiden left Grandpa, too.”
“That’s different. Your grandpa is a bloody dictator and a ruthless autocrat. He couldn’t wait for us to sod off so he could crack on with his plan to conquer the world.”
“The same grandpa who worships at Nan’s feet and treats Glyn like a spoiled princess?”
“That one, yes. Your nan tamed him. Before her, he was an insufferable prick and was often cross with us. We clashed all the damn time.” He shakes his head with apparent nostalgia and extends his hand.
I pass him the bowl of potatoes before he even asks for it. We’re in sync like that, Dad and I.
“Really? But you guys have a good relationship now.”
“That’s the thing about relationships. They take work and time. Besides, admittedly, I was a little wanker as a teenager. I might have burned down his mansion and caused enough problems in school to make him a permanent visitor.”
My hand pauses on stirring the broth. “No way.”
“Let’s say I was wild.”
“I can’t believe that. You, wild? Intense, yes. Butwild?”
“Wilder than an untamed black horse. No one could restrict me. Not even your grandfather.”
“Wow. It’s hard to imagine you doing all that.”
“Who do you think your brother gets his behavioral issues from?”
“Oh.” I continue stirring, breathing in the smell of aromatic basil and oregano. “Oh! Is that why you were strict with him at one point?”
“It was like watching myself and seeing the image from Uncle’s point of view. Not a pleasant feeling.” He clutches my shoulders. “But I have you, so I can’t complain.”
He pushes past me to the cupboard and I remain frozen in place, the thoughts from earlier rushing to the surface like a hungry shark.
“Will you be ready to serve in twenty?” he asks while fetching a salad bowl.
“Yeah, I think I can make it.”
“Make what?” Mum calls before I’m attacked from behind by a hug.
She’s much shorter than me and I have to bend so she can kiss me on the cheek.
Mum’s hair is gathered in a messy bun and some paint smudges her shirt’s sleeves. Unfortunately, I came at a time when she’s battling a deadline, so I haven’t seen much of her and she keeps apologizing for that, but I get it. I’m also supposed to be working on something. The keyword beingsupposedto.
The thought of painting those mindless nature scenes bores me to fucking death.
“Something smells divine.” She tries to sneak past Dad, but he wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her, then pushes her in the direction of the dining room.
“Go relax. We’ll serve in a bit.”
“I love it when my boys spoil me.” She strokes his hair and fixes his collar.
While I continue stirring, I can’t help watching them.
