“Not on the surface, no, that would never do, but behind the scenes I’d be the talk of the town. I’d never hear the end of it at work.”
“You’d hardly be the talk of the town, and about the work thing, who really cares? Nobody would give a shit, Louise.”
“I care,” she said. “It’s easier being married, Kyle. None of the old pervert clients hit on me anymore. One flash of my wedding ring and all extra commission propositions fall flat on their faces. I feel freer than I’ve felt in years.”
“Not free enough to be with the woman you love, or to be honest with the daughter you should love.”
“I do love Aimee,” she snapped. “Of course I do.”
“So, talk to her,” I said. “She might surprise you.”
“Thanks to you I have no choice now, do I?”
I weighed it up. “Probably not.”
“This doesn’t leave this house, understood? Not a bloody word of it, Kyle. If we’re lucky, we can keep this contained, play happy families for anyone who’s watching.”
“And what if I really did want to get married one day, Louise?”
She laughed. “You’re a free agent, aren’t you? There was no actual wedding, Kyle, in case you’ve forgotten. Marry who you want, just don’t tell the world about it.”
“Sure thing, Mrs Priestley,” I smiled. “I’ll keep the peace, but I’ll be expecting Helen at dinner next Sunday. It’s time we all had a fresh start. Let’s work on the happy family thing, shall we? For real this time.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
I guessed that would have to do.
“I really like Helen,” Aimee said, draping herself across my lap. “She seems super, super nice.”
“Your mother actually smiled today,” I laughed. “Did you notice?”
“I put it down to trapped wind, but I think you may be right. More of an upturned mouth than a grin though, I’d say.”
I laughed. “It’s a start.”
“A good start,” she laughed too.
It was a beautiful thing to see unfolding – the new family dynamic. Louise and Helen already becoming so comfortable around each other, and Aimee enjoying her time with them. To be honest, I was too. Maybe Louise wasn’t quite the cold-hearted bitch she painted herself out to be.
Aimee grinned at me. “So, Mr Priestley, now we’ve got the house to ourselves, what are we doing this weekend?”
“I haven’t decided,” I smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“How about I decide for once?” Her eyes were mischievous, sparkling with delight.
“Now now, Aimee, you know the rules. Who makes the decisions around here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again.”
She poked her tongue out, laughing as I caught it tight between my fingers.
“Hmm, maybe you’ll get to decide this weekend,” I said to her. “Since you’ve been such a good little girl this week.”
That was what my gorgeous angel was turning out to be, more than anything, and she always would be. For ever. For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health.
Aimee Jane Rowley would always be my good little girl.
* * *
--The End—