“A haworthia?”
“Your mother used to like succulents. I’d surprise her with one from time to time.” I nodded. I remembered her succulent collection. I’d taken care of them for years and cried bitterly when the last one died. I’d propagated the leaves to make new plants from them but it just wasn’t the same as holding the plants she’d physically touched.
“She used to buy me one for my birthday. Every year I’d wake up and there would be a tiny little pot with a tiny little succulent waiting for me.” I caught myself, my throat closing up before I could continue. That had obviously stopped after she died and I haden’t bought one since.
“You liked them?”
“It was my favourite part of my birthday. Aside from the cake.”
He smiled but there was a sadness in his eyes that his smile didn’t reach. Probably guilt over all the birthdays that he missed.
“Thank you. I’ll put it with my Calathea.”
“Your what?”
“Nevermind.” I thanked him again and I felt myself soften. Plants were truly a way to my heart.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work then. I’ll see you at the wedding? Natalie said your man's sister has sorted her a dress? That’s very kind.”
“Yes, Grace. She’s…she’s very kind.” I felt awkward. Despite everything that I knew about him I found myself wanting him closer. “Would you like to see what I’ve been building?”
His shoulders sagged as he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I’d love to.”
He didn’t talk much as we walked, I was learning my father was a quiet man. Or maybe he was just nervous.
I introduced him to Sid who quickly made himself scarce. I was coming to adore Sid. I liked a man who could read the room.
“Jemima Puddle-duck? I read that story to you when you were small.”
“You did?” I asked, I didn’t remember.
“Aye. You called her Jemmy Duck.” He chuckled at the memory. “So, what will you do now? You have another job lined up?”
“I don’t know. I have a few options to explore. Alfie thinks I should go it alone. Make my own business.”
“He wants you to work, does he?”
“I don’t know if he wants it but he respects it. He’s proud of me.”
“But he’s not trying to stand in the way?” There was an edge in his voice that had my brows knitting together. “Your sister might have mentioned he doesn’t have the cleanest of track records where you're concerned.”
“He could say the same thing to me about you.”
John nodded, not trying to argue.
“Has something happened?” I asked. It would be no surprise to me if Alfie had had conversations with my father that I wasn’t privy to. “Has he given you a reason not to trust him?”
“No, other than he could have any woman he wanted and he landed on a vulnerable girl like you.”
“A vulnerable girl?” I crossed my arms. “I was a vulnerable girl when I was four years old and you left me. I was vulnerable when I was twelve years old and my mother died and you still didn’t come back. I’m not avulnerable girlanymore.”
I knew he’d been in prison so he couldn’t come back even if he’d wanted to but that didn’t matter to me in my anger.
“Alfie is far from perfect but he’s a good man and he loves me and maybe that's why he picked me when he could have anyone he wanted.”
He sighed. “I’ve said this all wrong. Aside from what your sister has told me I’ve done research of my own. He has a history. A brother that died in suspicious circumstances. Estranged from family. One hurt woman after another left behind him. That club he owns? The things they do there? Men like that swallow you up and spit you out.”
“He isn’t going to swallow me up and spit me out. He has a past, he isn’t the only one, is he,John?” I snapped, reminding him there was a reason I didn’t call him ‘Dad’.
