He gave her a lopsided grin. “I think you’d get along really well with Uncle John.”
“The pot grower?”
“Ha!” He nodded. “Among other things. You two have a very similar outlook on life.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s a generational thing.” Then she slid him a sidelong glance. “But that begs the question, can you see yourself making a life with Cami once the fires of passion burn down to smoldering embers? Can you see yourself being more than her lover? Being her partner in life? Her helpmate? Herfriend?”
He thought back to his dream, to Cami standing on the porch with a baby on one hip and her hand in the hair of a little boy, and nodded. “She’s loud and bossy and funny and genuine. We lock horns constantly. But I’ve got to tell you, Mom, I’d rather be locking horns with her than sitting quietly and comfortably with anyone else. And I think I want to lock horns with her the rest of my life.”
A wide smile spread over his mother’s face. “Oh, Dalton. You have no idea how it warms my heart to hear you say that.”
They were quiet for a long time after that, listening to the hum of the bugs, the soft sounds of the cattle, the tinkle of the wind through the chimes.
His mother had always loved windchimes.
But eventually he turned and did what he’d come three thousand miles to do. He apologized.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” When a line appeared between her eyebrows, he tugged on his ear and rushed ahead. “I’m sorry I was so upset when you married Randall. And I’m sorry I held that against you all these years. It wasn’t my place to judge what was right or wrong for you or for him or for Dad’s memory.”
She gently pulled his hand away from his earlobe. “You’ve been doing that since you were a baby. It’s a wonder your poor earlobes aren’t three feet long.” Then she wrapped an arm around his back and leaned her head onto his shoulder. He placed his cheek atop her hair and breathed in the clean smell of her Prell shampoo.
“As for being upset about me marrying Randall,” she went on quietly. “You were hurting. Webothwere. We just chose to handle that hurt differently.”
“You handled it by being gracious and accepting and moving on with life. I handled it by being cold and disapproving and clinging to my pain.”
“You’re stubborn, just like your daddy. But how can I be mad about that when it’s one of the things I’ve always loved so much about you?”
“I love you too, Mom.”
She nodded and it rubbed her hair against his cheek. “I know you do, son.”
Chapter 34
The next day
3:44 PM...
Cami sat across the table from her father and noticed how prison hadn’t diminished Big Tony D’s penchant for a close shave and a tight haircut. Not a shiv mark or black eye marred his face. His thick frame said he had plenty of money to buy snacks at the commissary. And the breadth of his shoulders told her he spent a lot of time with the gym equipment.
Hard time looked good on him.
Then again, the Gambino crime family had plenty of reach inside. Which meant, as long as her father kept up his end of the bargain and kept his mouth shut, he’d enjoy the best the penal system had to offer.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Camilla?” He was the only person who never called her Cami.
His deep voice brought back a million memories of her childhood. Even though he hadn’t been around all that much—he’d always been out working—when hehadbeen home, she remembered cookouts and board games and camping trips planned to the Cascades.
Which was probably why it hurt so much to know he’d betrayed her. Betrayed hertrust.
And in doing so, he’d nearly cost her her life. But worse than that, he’d nearly cost the lives of people she’d grown to care about and one person she loved with her whole heart.
“Why did you tell your cellmate about the king tide?” Her voice was hoarse from having spent the entire plane ride from Miami to New York City with a lump in her throat. Not because she’d been nervous about the coming confrontation with her father. More because she’d been sad. So unbearably sad that it’d come to this.
He made a face and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fuckin’ Bernie.” He shook his head. “I was just chatting. Just bragging to my cellmate about my daughter and her work, you know? Not much else to do in here but talk. And how the hell was I supposed to know that skinny tweaker had a cousin who’d try to make a run for the money?”
It was just as she’d suspected. There’d been no malice in her father’s slip. Simply thoughtlessness.
Guess it runs in the family,she thought with no small amount of self-derision.
