“I’m not that bad,” she cried, glaring slack-jawed at her husband of nearly forty years. “If I happen to meet a nice young man who may be suitable for my youngest boy I take note. It’s as simple as that.”
Harrison wondered if she’d come across any green-eyed store owners with hundred-watt smiles. He could do with an available one of those. But it had been nearly a week since he’d given Jeremy his number and the other man hadn’t called. It was probably time to let that fantasy go.
“Thanks for trying, Aunty Cel,” he said as he stood, clearing the empty plates from the table. “But I think I can find my own boyfriend.”
“Of course, you can,” she said with an encouraging smile. “But I reserve the right to keep an eye out all the same.”
“Sure thing.” Picking up the pile of dishes, Harrison escaped into the kitchen. He stacked what he could into the dishwasher before filling the sink with hot, soapy water to finish off the rest. “What was all that about?” he asked when Jeff joined him.
The older man shrugged as he picked up a tea towel. “She worries about you, I suppose. We worry about all our kids, it comes with being a parent, but… she wants to see you with attachments to the world, and the people in it. We both do.”
A tumbler slipped from Harrison’s fingers and sank to the bottom of the sink with a dull clunk. Lifting the glass out of the hot water, he checked it for cracks. “Do you think I’m going to stop fighting?” He didn’t look at his uncle as he asked the question. If a shred of doubt existed in the one man who’d managed to guide him away from the brink, he didn’t want to see it.
“No, I don’t.” Jeff’s words were firm, resolute. “You are my young warrior, as you’ve always been.”
Young warrior.Jeff had given him the nickname the day he decided to fight, before he’d even been strong enough to leave the hospital. It had given him courage in those first few months, as he started to piece together some kind of life for himself. Even after all these years, there were still times he needed to hear it.
“But the fight isn’t all there is to life, Harrison,” Jeff continued. “Those rules you’re so attached to might keep you healthy, but we want more for you. We want to see you happy.”
What did that even mean?Happy.People went on about being happy all the time but, to Harrison, it was a foreign concept. “I’ll keep working on that one,” he said as he placed the tumbler he’d dropped onto the drainer, satisfied now it remained whole. “If I manage to unravel the mystery, I’ll let you know.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” Jeff said as he dried the tumbler and placed it back into the cupboard. “And no one deserves it more.”
The darkness in the back of Harrison’s mind didn’t agree. It stirred and twisted, whispering that he wasn’t capable of experiencing happiness, not the way other people did. If he was lucky enough to stumble upon it, he was too broken—too damaged—to hold onto it for long.
Harrison took a deep breath and consciously refocused his attention, concentrating on the physical sensations of his body. The heat of the water moving against his skin. The roughness of the kitchen cloth as he scrubbed the last saucepan clean. After a few minutes the darkness receded, and he could think clearly once more.
He was wiping his hands dry when he heard his mobile phone ringing. Heading into the living room, he grabbed the phone off the coffee table and glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen before answering. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is this Harrison?”
He instantly recognised the voice on the other end of the line. “Jeremy,” he said, his lips curving a fraction. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“You, too.” There was a pause and then Jeremy cleared his throat. “I wondered if you’d have time to come to the store and take a look at the wall we were talking about at the convention. Maybe give me a quote to do some work on it.”
Harrison could have sworn a swarm of butterflies took flight in his stomach. “That sounds great.” A little devil made him add, “When do you want me to come?”
Jeremy gave a low, sexy chuckle in response.
After he hung up a few minutes later, Harrison went back into the kitchen to find Celeste making her usual nightly hot chocolate. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Good news, Aunty Cel,” he told her, “you might not need to find me a date after all.”
