“I’d say classic type A, but he wasn’t like this before the army. I think being busy helps with the shakes. Probably also helps him ignore the fact he hasn’t had a date since his last tour.”
“You’re joking. How long ago was that?”
“Three years.”
My mouth fell open again. I thought three months was rough!
“Why not?”
She lifted a shoulder as she tilted her head back in the sun. “Says he isn’t ready. Whatever that means.”
So maybe he wasn’t flirting with me yesterday after all.
“Why work with those kids though? It's quite a specific group he's chosen,” I asked, changing the subject.
Breeze cleared her throat and picked at a stray thread on her dress. I could tell she was telling me more than she thought sheshould. "His mum grew up in the system. He saw how much it affected her even as an adult.”
I swallowed. Yup. People always say kids are resilient.‘Look at them. They’re so resilient. It’s like nothings even happened.’But they’re not. And they shouldn’t have to be. Kids are surviving from one day to the next, completely aware that they can’t make it on their own yet. They make the best of whatever circumstances they’re in.
“Well… that’s kind of him,” I said, leaning back on my palms. I didn’t know what else to say, but I felt the cement in my chest crack.
We both watched as Taco sniffed around the garden, looking very much like a tiny white meerkat on patrol.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I thoughtyou were going to bring the kids,” I groaned to June as she pulled up outsideSteamy Sips. She frowned as she caught sight of several grey-haired men spinning on poles through the café window. Breeze had caved and allowed them to install three poles for their weekly classes, on the condition that the stripping part remained fictional and they repaired any ceiling damage.
“What kind of place is this?” June asked, eyes glued to the man in yellow tights completing a perfect back hook spin.
“I’ll fill you in on the way,” I said, giving a thumbs up to Harry, who was now transitioning into a back arch. He’d been working on that all week.
June was one of those drivers that made you slam on your imaginary brake constantly and close your eyes when she drifted around corners, so you didn’t have to witness how close you came to your own death. The drive to Tenderheart was only 20-minutes, but I practically kissed the pavement as soon as I could peel my shaking legs from the car. June snorted and pulled a bunch of store-bought flowers from the back seat. How did she always know to do things like that? She had inherited all these social cue understandings that seemed to have skippedme altogether. I scowled at her, and she smiled. She loved being the favourite. Although Dad claimed he didn’t have one, he’d always treated her differently from me. And he’d treated Josh differently from both of us. Josh was the angel.Well, literally now.
Discomfort pooled in my stomach as I remembered that I’d only seen Dad once since Josh's funeral and he’d not been in a good place mentally. The grief had paralysed him. Whereas I seemed to compartmentalise it somewhere and not have to deal with it at all. Sort of.
“Ready?” June asked, adjusting the hem of her black capris.
“No,” I said, staring at the front window of the terraced home I grew up in. Its curtains had remained drawn since Josh died, like a black mourning veil.
“We’re not doing this again, are we?” she sighed.
I rolled my eyes and raced her to the front door, which was on the side of the house under the carport. Because apparently I still needed to win races against my sister at thirty-five.
The man who answered the door looked surprised to see us. He squinted against the brightness coming through the open door.
“Hi, Dad!” I choked out an enthusiastic tone. I was always happy to see him, truly, but it came with the looming sense that I was in trouble. I just never knew what I’d done.
“Riley! I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, his brows pulling together.
“And me, Dad,” June chimed in, appearing from behind me at the base of the steps. She shoved the flowers into his hands.
“Both my girls,” he smiled. “What have I done to deserve such a visit?”
“It’s been a long time, is all,” June said, wrapping her arms around his slouched shoulders. “And Riley has something to ask you.”
I elbowed her. No need to make it sound ominous.
Dad looked pleased to see us, but he didn’t open the door any wider. His white hair flopped over his forehead, and the whiskers on his cheeks told me he was overdue for a shave. June reached for the door, but Dad gently took her wrist.
