The Summer of Sunshine and Margot - Susan Mallery Page 0,35

on after the last few difficult months.

Sunshine motioned to the plate of cooked chicken. “Would you please take that inside for me? I’ll put them away when they cool off. Dinner’s going to be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“You want me to barbecue for you?”

“What is it about men and outdoor cooking?”

“It’s very primal.”

“Apparently. Really, I can handle this. Go unwind from your day. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He carried the chicken inside and left it on the counter, then walked into the living room. The furniture was exactly the same as it had been since he and Iris had bought the house. Almost every room was. The only thing he’d changed had been the master bedroom. After she’d died, he’d hired a decorator to completely redo the room. A piss-poor way to try to exorcise ghosts, but it was the only thing he could think of to do.

Connor was doing better, he reminded himself. That was something. Time was helping him heal but he thought a lot of his improvement was due to Sunshine. She and Connor clicked and it was good to hear his son laughing again. Neither of them had laughed for a long time.

He knew he was still battling anger. Declan had been angry for so long, he wasn’t sure who he would be if he let it go. He’d carried his rage around for months before Iris had told him she was sick. He’d had to pretend everything was fine for Connor’s sake, but it hadn’t been.

Even now he wondered if he should have left her. Would that have been better—a clean break? A divorce? Only what about Connor? There would have been the double blow. No, staying, however hellish, had been the right decision. Their son hadn’t known Declan had slept on his home office sofa for months before Iris’s diagnosis. He hadn’t known his parents’ marriage had been shattered to the point that it could never be repaired. At least as far as Declan knew. He’d never had the opportunity to make a decision one way or the other.

Maybe that was what pissed him off the most. There’d been no choice, no opportunity to talk about it, to work it out. Because right when he’d thought he might be willing to try, she’d told him she was dying. That the cancer she’d kept from him, the cancer that she’d assumed could be easily treated, had taken a turn and now she had less than a couple of months to live. A couple of months that had turned out to be three weeks. There had been only shock and disbelief and then she’d been gone.

Declan looked out the window, but saw instead the ridiculously sunny day of Iris’s funeral. He’d been numb from shock, aware that while he would have to process his feelings at some point, all that mattered was Connor. Getting his son through his grief. His parents had moved in to help, he’d found a therapist for his son and had taken a couple of weeks off to start the transition.

All these months later, Connor was healing. Declan had no idea where he was on his own journey, but wasn’t sure that mattered. Iris was gone and he honestly didn’t know if he was sad about that or still angry or just plain exhausted by the whole thing.

* * *

“You don’t have to help me clean up,” Sunshine said as Declan carried dishes to the counter.

“I don’t mind. You did all the cooking.”

She laughed. “I always do all the cooking. It’s part of my job description.”

Within a day or two of his hiring her, she’d said she was happy to cook dinner every night but her days off. Declan had been relieved and had immediately increased her salary to reflect the new responsibilities.

“Is the cleaning service working out?” he asked. “Is once a week enough?”

“You and your son are surprisingly tidy, so yes. Once a week is fine.”

“Let me know if you want them more often.”

“I will.”

While she rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, he wiped down the counters. They both finished at the same time. Declan picked up the bottle of wine.

“Another glass?”

She hesitated a second before nodding. “Sure. Thank you.”

They sat on the bar stools at the island. He was careful to keep his distance. While he might find Sunshine the stuff of fantasies, he would never say or do anything to make her uncomfortable. She was great with his son and he didn’t