“Of course.”
She reached out and touched my cheek. “You are kind, loving, generous, patient, and beautiful. You deserve something special.”
“Mom, you got a fairytale. Not everyone finds those.”
She titled her head to the side and smiled. “No, Lila Kate. Not everyone is patient enough to wait for it.”
She kissed my cheek then took my arm, and we walked up the stairs and into the house. I would ponder what she said later. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn’t that I wouldn’t get a fairytale. Just that I had wanted it from the wrong person.
The house smelled like cigars. It had all my life. I’d heard Rush once say it was better than the marijuana smell it had in his youth. We walked through the large entrance down the left hall where what Kiro called the game room was located. Large black leather sofas, massive flat screens—as in three of them—a pool table and a large bar were in the room. Sitting on the corner of the sofa was my grandfather, Kiro Manning. He was older now, but he was still a legend. His name was well known. He had a cigar in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. His slender frame was tall, and he was covered in tattoos. Even retired and a grandfather he still resembled a rocker.
He lifted his red-rimmed eyes as we entered and smiled at the sight of me. He’d been crying at some point. “My Lila Kate,” he said his voice raspy from years of drugs, smoking and alcohol.
“Hey,” I said as I made my way over to him. It was no secret he’d been furious when my father got my mother pregnant. My mother wasn’t his only child but she was his favorite. Because she had been the child Emily gave him. My birth could have killed my mother. That had terrified him. But my mom often said he’d spent my lifetime making that up to me. I knew he loved me more than his other grandchildren. He was very blunt about it. But I also knew it was only because I was a part of Emily.
He held open his arms still holding the alcohol and cigar. I bent down and hugged him tightly. “I love you,” I whispered.
“Not as much as I love you, pretty girl,” which had always been his response. “Heard you took off on a bike with a Kerrington. Guess you got a little of your Granddaddy’s wild oats in you after all.”
I tensed hoping my dad hadn’t heard him. “Um, I guess,” I said as quietly as I could.
That made him laugh. I was glad he could laugh but this wasn’t something to laugh about. “Gonna give that daddy of yours a little hard time. He needs it.”
Of all the things for him to want to talk about this wasn’t one of them.
“Daddy be nice. She’s already nervous about talking to Grant about all this,” Mom interjected.
I closed my eyes and winced. When I stood up Kiro winked at me. “You’re grown girl. It’s okay.”
I turned my head slowly to look at my dad who was standing at the bar with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. “She’s better than Cruz Kerrington,” my dad said.
“And my Harlow was better than Grant Carter. My sweet baby girl was swept off her feet by someone who had a reputation as a player. Seems it turned out all right,” Kiro said before taking a pull off his cigar.
Dad only grunted.
I tried thinking of something to change the subject when footsteps sounded down the hall. Then I heard the voices. Kiro’s other two kids were here with their spouses. I knew my Uncle Mase’s voice anywhere. And when he is arguing with my Aunt Nan it feels like a family gathering.
“I’m not taking the blue room, Mase. Shove it up your ass. I want the gold one near the back elevator. I always prefer that one. Don’t argue with me,” Aunt Nan said in her high-pitched annoyed tone.