Dad scrubs his palm against the beard he’s been growing for the last few months at Tilly’s request. She says she’s in her beard era…whatever that means. “When were you going to tell me about Malakai?”
“Well…” I start to say, stalling for time because I haven’t thought much about what I’m going to tell him about the situation.
I thought my grandfather would keep his mouth shut about the meeting, but I was delusional to think he wouldn’t sing like a canary.
There are no secrets, dummy.
“I had to hear about everything from my mom,” he explains before rubbing the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting off a headache.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
It’s my go-to phrase when I’ve withheld information before. It worked like a charm when I was younger, but the older I get, the less it works on him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t do the old Hail Mary and sling it out there like there’s a shot it’ll satisfy him.
“Worry?” he chuckles, but the sound is far from happy. “More like terrified. It’s freaking Malakai.”
“It’s all over, Dad.”
He raises an eyebrow as he stares at me, all hint of his sardonic laughter gone. “It’s over?”
I nod. “Gramps sorted it.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. “What was the price?”
“No price. Just a misunderstanding,” I tell him.
Dad places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly as he pins me with his gaze. “There’s always a price, son.”
I wonder what goes through his head sometimes. He seems like an optimist, but the man has a wicked pessimistic streak in him, especially when it comes to things I’ve done.
“The situation has nothing to do with us. She wasn’t even on his radar.”
“Is that what Malakai said?”
“Yes.”
“The man wouldn’t know the truth if it hit him square in the face. Watch your back, and if you see anything suspicious, you call me, not the old man.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing out the word.
“Grow eyes in the back of your head.”
“Got it.”
“Do you?” he asks, stepping a foot closer and glancing around to see who’s watching us or listening.
“I know Malakai. Not like your grandfather, but I know him well enough to understand nothing is ever over with him, especially when a large amount of money is involved.”
“Why does it look like you’re discussing his bad report card?” Ma asks, saving me from the conversation.
“It’s just Dad being Dad,” I tell her as he drops his arm from my shoulder.
His facial expression morphs within a second before he turns his gaze on her. “We’re good, love. Just talking about man things.”
Ma rolls her eyes. “You’re a bad liar, Angelo.”
He snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her into his side, nuzzling her neck. “We were talking about his new girlfriend.”
“I love her,” Ma says as Dad peppers her neck with kisses.
