“Yes,” I agreed, because…obviously.
“So ye won’t be taking any offense when I note she was a horrible mum to you girls.”
“She didn’t attempt to hide it,” I confirmed.
“No. She didnae. If ye were up at our place, Alex would tramp out and do her own thing. But it’d take forever for Mum to get you settled in. Then you’d be in the kitchen with her, making stews or pies. But I think that was the only time ye seemed really happy.”
God, I’d forgotten about cooking with Kenna. The last time we’d done that was so long ago.
I didn’t do much but peel vegetables or roll out dough.
But I remembered liking those times a whole lot, even if they were rare.
This made me consider the idea this was the reason why I loved cooking so much.
Because Kenna gave it to me.
And Dair was right.
Working in her kitchen with her made me happy.
“Your mum has always been lovely with me.”
“My mum has always fretted like fuck over you and Alex.”
This was awful, and I wished she hadn’t had to do that, but it didn’t surprise me.
She was her own woman and had always seemed capable, together and no-nonsense, but when it came to her children, she was all mum, openly, even effusively loving and nurturing, but when needed, strict and disciplined.
On this thought, I remarked, “You’re very lucky, Dair.”
“Aye, I ken. This is why I worry about what marks Helena made on ye.”
I shrugged. “I’m not the only kid in the world who had a crappy mother.”
“I’m not sitting across from some other grown kid from out in the world, Blake.”
Argh.
I didn’t want to talk about this. There was nothing to be done about it.
“I thought we were discussing you being a bully when we were kids,” I reminded him.
Before he could answer, the server came with our drinks (for your edification, Dair, an ale, me, their Garden Variety Gimlet, though take it from me, it wasn’t garden variety at all).
The server left and Dair took us right back to it.
“I was a boy who liked to be outside, and I was too young to realize ye simply didnae. I was told to entertain ye, and the fun shite I knew to do was all outside. You didnae like how cold it was. You complained about the rain. You didnae like horses?—”
“I love horses,” I stated hotly, because…I did. Even back then.
“You turned your nose up at them.”
“I was scared of them. They were huge, Dair. You guys bred Clydesdales.”
“They’re still just horses.”
I picked up my drink and mumbled, “Oh my God, I can’t believe we’re discussing this.”
