Zeke glanced at the flowers, recognizing them as alstroemeria. He’d ordered them for her a few times when he was overseas and wanted her to know he hadn’t forgotten her. “She’s always loved those. Nice choice.”

They made their way into the cemetery proper with free hands stuffed in pockets and eyes cast toward the carefully manicured pea gravel walkways. It was early enough that the only other person in sight was Mr. Gauls, one of the custodians. He left the area after briefly tipping his hat to them, granting them the privacy that they would need.

Aoife Harding—née O’Neill—rested in a plot near the rose garden. Zeke knelt near the headstone, brushing his fingers over the inscription. I loved you at your darkest. Romans 5:8. The perfect words, but just as painful to read today as they were years ago.

Bradley laid the flowers at the base of her gravestone and Zeke pulled out the currant loaf and placed it next to the bright blooms. He split the raisin loaf in half and handed part of it to his father. Bradley sat beside Zeke with a soft exhalation, the only sign that he was beginning to feel his age. He took a bite of the loaf and made a sound of surprise.

“Good, huh?” Zeke asked.

“Very. Where did you get this?”

“There’s a bakery near my work. I stopped there this morning for the first time.”

“Your mom would have loved this.”

Again, they fell to silence, although it was a little more comfortable this time. Zeke finished and crumpled up the paper bag, stuffing it into his coat pocket. “Okay, mum,” he said, staring absently toward the passing clouds overhead. “I don’t have a ton of news. Work’s been busy, but I’ve almost got enough saved up to buy up the bookstore I was telling you about. John’s doing fine. He met some girl and I’m supposed to go out to dinner with them. I guess he’s serious about her. And no, I don’t have a woman in my life.”

He grinned and added in a low voice, “So stop asking.” Update finished, he glanced at Bradley, who was watching the rose bushes moving in the gentle breeze. “Your turn.”

While his father focused his attention on Aoife, Zeke lay back on the grass, listening to the soft rise and fall of his voice. They didn’t talk often, but these meetings served to provide information about their lives without having to be asked.

His father was enjoying retirement. He’d been traveling to his Alaskan cabin more frequently, although he didn’t like the winters. He’d also met someone.

That perked Zeke’s attention.

Bradley and his friend Caroline were taking things slowly. She was a divorcée and wary of getting into something serious, but they’d decided to be exclusive. Bradley hoped that Aoife wouldn’t mind.

“She wouldn’t,” Zeke interrupted.

Bradley stiffened a little at having his narrative interrupted, but avoided eye contact with his son. “I hope she wouldn’t. Your mother is completely different from Caroline...”

“She wouldn’t care if they were peas in a pod,” Zeke said, more firmly this time. “She’d be glad you found someone. She wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

Bradley’s shoulders relaxed and he patted Zeke’s shoulder. “And you?”

“I’m working on it.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow from his father. “Are you now?”

Zeke’s mind drifted to Vivian. “I’m tempted.”

“Well, if it becomes something more...” His father cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to meet her.”

“Long way off, but if it reaches that point I’ll let you know.”

His father’s smile was reminder enough why he was willing to drive a several hours to this lonely cemetery every few months. They stayed for another hour, chatting and dancing carefully around the landmine of memories that constituted their past, before rising and heading back to the parking lot.

They’d nearly reached the cars when Bradley said out of the blue, “If you need any investment help, I know some people. I’m sure they’d be able to help you with your savings.”

A few years ago, Zeke would have told him to go fuck himself. But things were different now. Currency was the only form of love his father truly seemed to understand and Zeke had finally grown up enough to realize that.

“Thanks. I may take you up on that.”

Again, a second surprised smile from Bradley. They shook hands and parted ways. Zeke was back on the highway, enjoying the light traffic when his phone rang. “Harding,” he answered.

“Where are you, Irish?” Preston asked.

“Enjoying my day off.”

Tags: M.A. Grant Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net