his hoodie, her tear-stained face on his pillow, he’d realized he’d do just about anything to fix whatever had upset her.
And watching her rally to hand out candy the previous evening had solidified the idea that he loved her. He could see the two of them, handing out candy to children together for the next fifty years.
“And what’s her take on this feud between your fathers?”
Connor shook his head. “That’s the weirdest part of all this. She knows nothing about it. We’ve talked at length about the beginnings of the distillery, and she has all these photographs and information about the start. I saw Dad in one photograph, otherwise there’s no mention of him. Emerson is completely unaware that Dad has hated them all these years.”
Her mother frowned. “That is the oddest thing.”
Connor walked around the kitchen counter and pulled out the other stool. “Now, I don’t know how to tell her that I knew about her family before we met. And I made this proposal to Dad that we divest from mass liquor into more artisanal products. Dad got on board with the idea, but now he actually wants to buy Dyer’s because he heard they are in financial difficulty.”
His mother placed her hand on his knee. “Oh, Connor. And are they in trouble?”
He took a sip of his coffee. It was bitter, acrid even, as it went down his throat. “Nothing that will take them out of business, but they’ve taken some knocks, not least that Paul died.”
“That must be a lot for Emerson,” his mother said.
Connor nodded. “It is. And you know the craziest thing?”
“What’s that?”
“From what I’ve learned about him, I actually really like Paul Dyer. Did you ever meet him?”
Alyssa stood and wandered to look out of the kitchen window. “I didn’t. I met your father four months after Paul had stolen the company from him. Two or three months later, I was pregnant. I was still twenty-one, and Donovan swept me off my feet. I didn’t see then just how bitter he was.” She turned around. “I’ve often thought of Paul as the other person in our marriage. I think that’s the reason we didn’t last.”
“In what way?”
His mom pursed her lips. “I don’t know, Connor. Your father grieved the loss of the company something fierce and was consumed with working every hour God sent to beat Paul.” She put air quotes around beat. “He’d spend so much time talking about how different his life would be if Paul hadn’t taken everything that mattered to him.”
“I can only imagine how bad it was back then, that it still bothers him right now.”
Alyssa nodded. “I always felt like I was second fiddle. I sometimes think he married me on the rebound from that darn distillery. And the way he threw himself into his work at that time left him with no time or energy for me, or us. He was a husband and father in name only.”
Connor looked over to Derek’s kitchen table that he used to hide under as a child and pretend he was sailing a pirate ship to Derek’s old, battered leather lounger that Connor was allowed to sleep in when he was sick, snuggled under thick blankets. And beyond that, to the garden where Derek had taught him how to throw a ball and to the patio chairs where Derek had set him straight on the facts of life.
Derek had been the present father that Donovan had never been, and Connor had a realization he was putting all of his efforts into impressing a man who had never really thought of him as a son…more as a talented heir apparent…another feather in his crown.
“Are you okay, Connor?” His mom walked toward him.
“Sorry, I was just thinking how good Derek has been to me. To us.”
Alyssa smiled broadly. “He has, hasn’t he? He made so many sacrifices, worked two jobs at times, to look after us.”
“I should do something to pay him back for that,” Connor said. “I don’t know why it hasn’t occurred to me before now.”
His mother ruffled his hair, something she’d done for as long as he could remember. “Oh, Connor. He doesn’t want paying back. You don’t owe him or me anything. You, the wonderful, if not slightly anal, man you are is enough.”
Connor laughed. “Thanks, Mom,” he said sarcastically. “Did I mention Emerson changes the time she wakes up every morning and hates my food prep? And she makes me waffles I can’t resist.”
Alyssa laughed. “I like