“Your dad won that bear,” Aberlour denied adamantly.
“Sure he did,” she said with a twinkle of mischief. “You don’t have to pretend, it was in the letter,” she said like Abe should have known what she was talking about.
“Letter?” Abe asked, giving her a blank look.
Suddenly, she frowned, as if concerned that she’d revealed something she shouldn’t have.
“He left us letters—” she stopped, then looked at her shoes, realizing she might have messed up. She looked much younger then, her expression stricken.
Aberlour suddenly remembered how she’d wailed at the funeral. The memory like a hot poker to the chest. She’d worn her hair in braids then, too. Though now her braids had purple streaks.
“You didn’t get a letter?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.
“Right—the letter,” Abe said, quickly backpedaling. He plastered on a big smile and stepped forward, knowing it would look more genuine if he did so.
Sophie smiled in relief, the tension in her shoulders disappearing.
“He told me about the bear. Said you’d won it for him,” she explained and Aberlour had to smile at the memory.
“It was a really weird day,” he said, with another long pull of his beer.
“Life’s full of those,” she said, sounding wise beyond her years. He looked her up and down. Quickly calculating her age. Ghost had only been 19 when his wife had gotten pregnant, so, by Abe’s count it made her no older than 15, though she seemed much closer to adulthood than kids at her age usually did.
“You being a good girl for your dad? Going to college and shit?” She smiled at his attempt to sound stern and nodded.
“Straight A’s, and that’s the plan,” she said with a nod. “I plan to pursue a Ph.D. in International Law, if all goes well.” She winked conspiratorially, as if she knew he was putting on an act just for her benefit.
“Good,” Aberlour said with a quick nod. “Real good.”
Sophie snorted and they stood in silence for a few minutes, watching as the celebration carried on around them.
“You can always—” he stopped, scratching the back of his head and taking a long sip.
She didn’t say anything, she simply looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.
“If you need—if you’re in trouble, you can always call,” he said, a little braver than before. “I know you don’t know me that well, but—” he stopped abruptly, noticing that her smile had grown into a mischievous grin, and he felt like he was late to catch onto the joke.
“He told me that in the letter as well,” she said hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure how he would take it.
“He did?” he asked, a little breathless with trying to hold back his emotions at the overwhelming feeling that washed over him, thinking about what high regard Ghost must have held for him.
“Wrote your phone number down. Said I should use it if I was ever in trouble and needed a way to get home without calling my mom,” she said, snickering as if the very idea was ludicrous.
Aberlour smirked and took another long pull from his beer.
“Can I have one?” Sophie asked him, pointing to the beer in his hand.
Aberlour snorted, uncapped the other beer in one quick move and handed it over to Sophie with a wink.
“Don’t get caught,” he called after her, as she sauntered off with it.
He grabbed another one for Oli, still shaking his head at the ridiculousness of their discussion.
“Did you—” Oli began, but Aberlour gestured for him to be quiet.
“Mind your own damned business,” he growled, jokingly.
Oliver huffed a laugh but took the offered beer. It was all in pretense, since Oli could barely handle the first few sips before his stomach felt like retching it back up. He liked holding it. It probably brought a sense of normalcy. Whatever his reasons for asking for the beer, Aberlour didn’t question them.
