as she turned her attention back to Harrison. I was more than happy to wander out to my father's workshop and be done with the conversation. He barely looked up when the door opened, his attention focused on the small watch he was repairing on the workbench in front of him. As I moved through the space, I was careful not to touch anything. My father was very protective of his collection.
“Did you see your mother?” He asked.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “How is the watch coming?”
“Bastard won't run, can't figure out what’s wrong with it.” He muttered.
I cringed. “Dad, you know I don’t like that word.”
“Then maybe you should tell me who my grandson's father is, and I can make an honest man out of him.”
“Jesus, what is it with people today? Is there some group chat I’m not part of talking about Harrison's father?”
“Watch the lords name in this house,” He said.
He set his work glasses to the side and sighed as he looked up at me. It was strange to have his undivided attention. My father had spent my childhood working, leaving my youth and the house to my mother's skilled care. The moments we had together were rare. It was always a little nerve-wracking to have him watching me as I moved around the tight space.
“I take it your mother has already started in on you?”
“Like it was her job.”
“Sorry about that. She’s been on me to get you to open up. I think she sees Harrison growing up and doesn’t know what to do without the prospect of another little baby to help with.”
“Then get her a puppy, I’m not a baby factory.”
“Come on now, you know she only wants what’s best for the both of you.”
“Yeah, well, did anyone stop to consider maybe I already knew what was best for my son and me? I don’t need you or mom's advice or help finding a date. I don’t want a boyfriend, and I don’t want Harrison's father in our lives.”
He cocked his head at my outburst and went back to work. I took my time working my way back into the house. My nerves were on edge, and the visit wasn’t doing much to restore them. Even the sound of my mother laughing with Harrison couldn’t shake me from my slump. Was I wrong? Was it time I let Walker be a part of Harrison's life? If I let that happen, how could I keep him out of mine?
9
Chapter Eight (Walker)
I knew they’d be coming for me. The sun rose over the barns while I sipped at the steaming coffee. It wasn’t long before twin trails of dust speckled the empty landscape. The two trucks were moving at a quick pace. Jackson and Thompson both seemed propelled forward by an unseen force. No doubt, the hurricane that was my mother had lit a match beneath them.
There were very few rules that the matriarch of our family had. One of those rare gems was that you didn’t miss family dinner. Of course, it couldn’t be helped on occasion, but if you didn’t have a good reason, hell was going to break loose. I’d made the same run that my brothers now made for me. It was always the same; figure out why they missed and what the hell is going on.
Before long, my phone would start to ring if my brothers didn’t report back. Though my mother may have appeared every bit the aging southern belle, she ran our family like a mob outfit. The growth of Lakeview was evidence of her business management skills. She knew that life would get in the way, but it was family that pulled you through. The Wheelers didn’t have secrets, and if they did, it wasn’t for long.
Jackson and Thompson eased into my driveway, a matching pair of quiet statues as they marched up my porch steps and took up the wicker chairs next to me. I knew how they felt; no one wanted to scold another grown man like a child. It was a shit system but effective; we rarely missed my mother's meals because of it.
“Good to see you aren’t dead,” Jackson muttered. “Ma was starting to get worried.”
“Bullshit, I texted her last night once and again this morning. She just doesn’t like that I’m not giving her any answers.”
“Feel like giving some to us?” Thompson asked.
“No, thanks, little brother. Not much to tell; just wasn’t in the family mood last night. I’m sure you can sympathize