“Don’t stay on my account,” Mom said. “Besides, your father and I have plans this afternoon. We won’t even be home.”
“Oh, okay. Trying to get rid of me, I see.”
“Maybe a little,” she joked, kissing my forehead. “Go. Have a good time with your mystery boy.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Dare
I pickedConnor up a block away from her parents’ house. She was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, her black North Face jacket zipped up against the cold. Her long red hair was spilled over her shoulders, flying about in the breeze.
She opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat, sending me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Everything okay?”
“Cal was still sleeping when I left.” She shrugged. “But I walked in on my parents fighting when I got home. They didn’t hear me come in, so…I overheard them. Mom said some strange things.”
“What kind of strange things?”
“Something about Dad not knowing at first…and about him missing time too. It was confusing, considering they got married when Mom was three months pregnant with Calum.”
“Well, maybe he didn’t know at first.” I shrugged.
“Maybe…” she trailed off, unconvinced. There was something else on her mind too, but Connor was the kind of person to take on everyone else’s pain. She’d try to heal them, try to make it better for whomever was suffering, even if it meant she suffered, too.
“We can’t sit around worrying about their past; we’ve got to focus on the now…and the future.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” She smiled again, this time with a little light behind it. “I’m excited to check out this recording studio. I’ve never been to one before.”
I grinned, pleased she was excited about it after her initial reaction. I’d worried she’d bail on hanging out with me because of it. I didn’t want her to feel like I was pushing her, that wasn’t my intent. “I figured after we check it out, we could grab something to eat at one of the restaurants nearby, then head to Miller Point Peace Park for a hike.”
“That sounds perfect.” When she smiled this time, it was for real.
The drive to Mahone Bay didn’t take us very long. Connor was unusually quiet, lost in her thoughts as she gazed at the passing scenery. As we grew closer to town, she turned to me.
“How come you’re not running this errand with Evan?”
“Because I don’t want to take Evan on a date after,” I pointed out, grinning. Don Keefer was an old contact of Frank’s, and he introduced us to him. Don had known my dad back in the day too. Before his death, he’d recorded an album here with Thrice Over. It was why I’d wanted to record my first album there.
I was hoping like hell he’d have some studio time available for the boys and me, but I was also hoping Connor would feel inspired to book a couple hours with me too.
I parked out front of the recording studio and turned to face Connor. She grinned at me with excitement before opening her door and stepping out on the sidewalk.
We walked into the recording studio, finding Don behind the reception desk. He was talking on the phone and held a distracted hand up to let us know we’d be with him in a minute.
Connor took that time to look around, checking out the reception room and trying to see what lay beyond the reception desk. Her eyes were curious as she took in the plaques and photographs on the wall, noting the many artists who had recorded there. Songs that had gone platinum. We were on there for our debut album.
“Sorry about that, how can I help you?” Don said, his attention focused on the ledger he wrote in. He looked up, doing a double take when he saw me, his weathered face splitting into a wide grin. “Dare McKenzie, is that you?”
“Sure is. How’s it going, Don?” I said, stepping forward to shake his hand.
“It’s going, I guess the funeral brought you to town?” I nodded my answer. “It’s too bad about Frank. He was a good man! I’m sorry we missed the funeral. Had to take the wife to Halifax for a chemo appointment. She’s got stage three non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, Don.”
“It’s life,” he sighed, although I could tell he was hurting a lot more than he let on. His hair was prematurely grey, and his face had a lot more wrinkles in it than I remembered. The stress of his sick wife must be a lot for him, but he fixed a genuine smile for Connor. “You must be Frank’s granddaughter. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Connor smiled at the compliment. “Thank you, yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you too.”
