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Was I programmed to repeat this bullshit? Was I fucking doomed?
That thought dragged up memories, like that vacation to Niagara Falls that my mother had planned. A last-ditch effort to unite us as a family. The bags were packed, train tickets in my mother’s clutch purse. She’d been waiting, dressed in her eggshell blue pantsuit. But when my father walked in the door, I took one look at him, and I knew that it wasn’t going to happen.
Dad had done it again. You could count on him to let you down the way you could count on the sun to rise.
“It’s about time you got here,” Mom said, reaching for her coat. “We’ll have to hurry to catch the train.”
“Something’s come up, Fiona.”
Mom froze for a moment, then laid her coat down, her face expressionless. “What do you mean, something’s come up?”
“There’s a problem with a shipment and I have to go look into it.”
“Why can’t you send Martin, or Brady?”
Dad shook his head. “You want something done right, you got to do it yourself.”
“That principle doesn’t apply to your family, however,” she said, her voice tight.
Dad’s mouth became a hard, flat line. “I make sacrifices to keep you in style, Fiona,” he said. “And all I ever get from you is whining and nagging.”
“Did I ask you to make these sacrifices? No, Frank. I didn’t. All I ever wanted was to see you more than once a month.” Mom’s voice shook. “All I’m asking now is that you call and get someone else to cover whatever the problem is at work. Just keep your word to me, and come with us to Niagara.”
My father’s fists clenched. “God, Fiona,” he ground out. “Why can’t I make you understand? It’s my responsibility!”
“Fine. Go, then. Your bag’s by the door. Don’t come back. I’ve had enough.” She walked out of the room. Her back was straight, but her face was crumpled.
Dad looked at me, seated stiff and immobile with dread on the couch. “Sorry, son,” he said heavily. “When you’ve got a family of your own to support, you’ll understand.”
“Go to hell,” I said.
Frank Knightly’s face darkened. “Don’t speak to me that way. I’m your father. Show some respect.”
“You’re not my father anymore.” I remembered so vividly how clear and cutting my voice had been. “You’re a terrible father. You’re fired.”
Dad just stared at me for a moment. Then he grabbed the suitcase and walked out. That was the last I’d ever seen of him. Twenty-six years. More than two-thirds of my lifetime.
I shook myself back to the present, and attacked the kindling again. Whack. Whack. Fuck this. Fuck it all.
A few sweaty minutes of chopping later, the sound of a car made me turn.
My stomach did a somersault as I recognized Nancy’s Volkswagen buzzing down the driveway. I clutched the ax handle as she got out of the car, wishing that I’d bathed.
She was elegant in faded jeans that clung enticingly to her hips and a dark, high-necked ribbed sweater that showed off a strip of flat belly. Her hair was wound into a loose braid, backlit by the sun like a halo of fire. She looked gorgeous. And nervous.
“Hey, Liam.” She gave me a tentative smile.
I crossed my arms over my chest. My voice was locked in my throat. Her smile faltered.
Then she opened the back door of her car and pulled out a cat carrier. A plaintive meow issued from the plastic crate. I looked into her car windows. The backseat was piled high. A suitcase, a laptop backpack, boxes of files. Was she actually planning to ...
Holy shit. My heart started to gallop. My face got suddenly hot.
“What are you doing here?” I was so wound up, my voice came out hard and unwelcoming. I was more than capable of fucking up this incredible second chance right here and now.
Easy does it, Knightly.
Chapter Nineteen