Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Eira,” Dad says, his gaze flitting from me to Eira and back again. “Good to see you, girl. How’ve you been? Couldn’t put up with this one for long, I heard.” He gestures in my direction.
“Who would?” Zach asks from where he and Ellie are leaning on the rickety dining table where Eira and I played backgammon and ate pie. “Dax on his best day is bad enough, but with the added pressure of having a kid—”
Eira glances at me across the kitchen, and I don’t hear what Zach and Dad are saying. It’s so good to see her. She looks so beautiful. Her brown mane of hair looks less wild than usual, her smile brighter. I want to know everything that’s happened to her since she walked out of the Marylebone house until the moment she stepped onto the doorstep.
“I heard your uncle died,” Dad says, and it takes me by surprise. How did he know that? By the look on Eira’s face, she wasn’t expecting it, either. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be,” Eira says. “He wasn’t a very nice man and his death has…uncomplicated my life. Substantially.” She glances at me meaningfully. As much as I love my family, I really wish they weren’t here right now. I want to know why her uncle dying has uncomplicated her life, and whether that newfound simplicity means she’s here to restart—or start?—what’s between us.
“Well, that’s that,” says Ellie. “Would you like a flapjack?”
“They look delicious, but I’m saving myself for dinner.” She pauses. “In fact, I was hoping you might join me, Dax.” She looks back at my family members. “But you have visitors so perhaps another day?”
“Oh we’re not staying here,” Dad says. “Apart from anything else, my son doesn’t have any furniture. I don’t know what you’re waiting for. You seem to have plenty of money. Why don’t you hire someone to help you?”
“Dax is taking his time,” Mum says. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Nothing at all,” I say, not taking my eyes from Eira. “I don’t have a sitter tonight, but if you wanted to come round—”
“Jacob and Sutton will babysit Guinevere,” Mum says.
“I don’t even know if they’re in,” I say.
“We’re over there for dinner, along with Zach and Ellie, so there’ll be six of us there. Guinevere will be in safe hands.”
I’m not convinced about the people I share my gene pool with, but at least with Sutton and Ellie there, Guinevere might not go completely unnoticed.
“Sounds like I have a sitter,” I say. “Or six.”
She laughs. “Shall I pick you up at seven?” she asks. “For our first date?”
I laugh because a first date seems ludicrous, but I suppose technically she’s right. We’ve never been out together. “I’ll pick you up,” I say. “I have your address, so—”
“It’s okay,” she says. “I’ll pick you up.”
I shrug. What else can I do? I don’t know if there’s a reason she wants to pick me up, but I’m not going to ask her, or even discuss it further, in front of my family.
“Good,” she says. “So I’ll see you later.” She hands me the spider plant and says goodbye to everyone. I walk her to the front door.
“Thanks for coming,” I say.
“Thanks for waiting.” Her voice breaks on the last syllable.
How could she think I wouldn’t wait? I reach for her and she takes my hand, and we stand on the doorstep for a few minutes, just holding hands, alternating between staring at each other and Guinevere.
“I don’t want you to go,” I say.
“I’ll see you at seven,” she says, then glides down the stairs and turns down the street. Every now and again, she looks back, sees me watching her, and her grin grows wider.
“Guinevere, this is a great day, my sweet girl,” I say as she starts to stir from her nap. “A great day. Daddy has a date tonight. So you gotta go to Uncle Jacob and Auntie Sutton’s place so I can have dinner with Eira. Is that okay?”
She started to make funny noises like a bird tweeting. I lift her out of the sling so I can hear them better. There’s nothing sweeter than cuddling with my daughter, and the only thing that would make me miss an evening of it is an evening with Eira.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Dax
I could have messaged Eira to ask where we were going, but I haven’t. I don’t want to fuck this up, so I need to go at her pace, follow her rules. She said dinner and I’m assuming she would have said if she wanted me in black tie. After changing several times, I settle on a blue shirt and dark blue jeans and a jacket. I can’t remember a time in my life when I was nervous. But I am now. Even when I flew to New York to pick up Guinevere, I didn’t think about the repercussions long enough to be nervous.