He grins at me, an actual, full-out grin. “Aye, lass. Honest to God it soothes my temper, working out.”
I look around the room, nodding. Jesus, could I use a cuppa.
“Got any tea or coffee?”
He grins. “Of course.”
“Do you drink it?”
He nods, gesturing to a pot on the counter. “Aye.”
“When I was little, my mum told me coffee stunted my growth,” I tell him with a laugh. “I told her I wanted to stunt my growth so that I could stay small.”
“Looks like your plan worked,” he says with a chuckle. He leans back in his chair, his eyes twinkling at me.
“Maybe too well.”
“What’s your mum like, darlin’?” he asks, as I pour myself a cup of steaming coffee, pour some milk in, then sit back down.
How do I describe my mother?
“She’s… well, she had a stroke last year and she’s been different ever since.”
“Has she? Tell me about it.”
My throat gets a little tight, and I swallow hard. I don’t ever remember a time when anyone asked me to tell them about my family. My entire life, everyone knew exactly who the Aitkens Clan was. And though I can logically conclude there’s no way that he knows what my father’s planned and why I’m here, I still enjoy that he treats me with respect like this.
“Aye. She was downright nasty when I was a child,” I sigh. “But she’s mellowed over the years, and after the stroke, has become less meddling and critical.”
He cringes. “Less?”
I shrug. “Aye. It isn’t a big deal, really. She was pressured by my father to have perfect children, and anything we did wrong,shedid wrong. If we didn’t get perfect marks in school, it was her fault. If we talked back or didn’t obey, it was her fault. So…she did everything she could to make sure those things never happened.”
He winces. “Sounds terrible.”
“It wasn’t fun.”
Itisn’tfun.
“Aye, but like I said, she’s calmer now. She forgets things, and often makes things up as well. She needs a good deal of help, and she’s got staff that help her.”
He sobers. “And how does your father handle that?”
Is it my imagination that makes me hear a change in his tone? This isn’t the jovial Mac of the past day and a half, but… someone different. Out of curiosity, I ask, “Was your experience quite different, then?”
“Oh aye, you could say that. My mum’s a firecracker, and when you meet my sisters, you’ll see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
When you meet my sisters.
“Bryn.”
“Mmm?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, lass.”
“Do I?”
I’m clenching my mug of coffee hard, and I’m feeling all kinds of queasy since he’s mentioned his sisters.
