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She turns and beams at me. I watch, open-mouthed, as my daughter takes her first step toward me. Then another. My heart blooms in my chest. I have a big-ass grin on my face. And not lying, there might be a tear rolling down my cheek, too. Nothing like having a kid to put you in touch with your emotions.
I go down on my haunches and hold out my arms. She stumbles forward, then throws herself at me.
19
Tyler
“Serene’s walking,” I announce.
Brody nods and smiles. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s humoring me, but I push it aside. “In fact, she’s running. Won’t be long before she’s playing football.”
“That’s awesome. Have you signed her up for football lessons already?” Connor’s voice rings with enthusiasm.
“Not yet, but I will. Also cricket. Don’t forget ballet. Really, whatever she wants to learn.” I know, I’m beaming like crazy and all puffed up. But hey, I’m allowed, right?
“Where is she today?” Connor looks around. “Can’t see her.”
“Dropped her off with Victoria.” She’s my friend Saint’s wife, and one of the few people I trust to take good care of my kid.
I pull out my phone, swipe the screen, and show Connor. “Look at her. She’s so cute, all dressed up.” Yes, I’m now one of those parents who can’t stop pulling out pictures of their kid and shoving it under the noses of unsuspecting fools, but whatever.
To Connor’s credit, he seems genuinely interested in seeing pictures of his niece. Both of my brothers flip the screen, seeing the pictures I’ve taken of Serene.
“She’s growing like a weed.” Connor hands me back my phone.
I pocket it and try to wipe the proud smile off my face.Focus. Focus. You don’t want to keep talking about your daughter’s accomplishments and bore everyone to tears.Then, and only because I want this lunch over with, so I can collect my daughter and spend the evening with her, I nod in the direction of Arthur’s house. "Anyone know what Gramps is up to?"
We’re in the backyard of our grandfather’s townhouse in Primrose Hill, for the weekly family meal. According to Arthur, the family that lunches together stays together. Given each of my brothers has a strong personality, these family meals make for lively discussions.
Tiny, Arthur’s Great Dane, ambles into the backyard, making a beeline for the long table packed with foodstuffs. He surveys it, and his ears droop. The mutt looks crestfallen, then walks back to Arthur.
Guess he’s unhappy he didn’t find any champagne. The dog has a weakness for the bubbly drink. But since Arthur’s diagnosis, Imelda has banned Arthur from drinking alcohol, and there's no smoking of cigars at the house. To my surprise, the old man didn’t protest.Is it true love?Probably.
You wouldn’t have caught Arthur listening to anyone else before Imelda came into his life. Now, he seems less hard on himself. When Arthur walks out to take his seat, it’s a signal for the rest of us to take our places.
A petite blonde woman whom I identify as Knox’s assistant turns to leave, but Knox indicates she should take the chair on his right. She hesitates, then complies. The chair to his left stays vacant. The rest of us take our seats. There’s a general buzz around the table. Otis, Arthur’s butler, tops up our wineglasses with a non-alcoholic beverage then stands to the side. Knox is the only one guzzling liquid of the alcoholic variety like it's going out of style. He must've brought his own. He seems on edge.Huh.
Arthur clinks his knife against his glass, and the chatter dies down.
"No doubt, you're all curious about why you’ve been summoned."
"Why should we be? We only had to drop what we were doing and turn up here," Brody growls under his breath.
"Something you want to share with the table?" Arthur arches an eyebrow in his grandson’s direction.
"It’s Sunday, but it’s still a working day for some of us." Brody points out.
"And I am the patriarch of this family… Still. So, you boys will come when I call." Arthur looks around the table, his expression leaving no room for argument.
Brody groans. Connor—who’s returned from another research trip to a far-off corner of the world—chugs down water from a bottle like it’s going out of style.
And Knox? His gaze is focused on the house. I frown.What is he waiting for?
"Felix"—Arthur nods in the direction of my young cousin—"you have something to tell us?"
"I’m joining the Marines." Felix clears his throat. "I hope to be half as good at it as my father was." Felix meets his father’s gaze.
Quentin’s throat moves as he swallows. He’s visibly moved by his son’s words. Then he raises his glass. "To Felix."