“Well, your sister’s a bitch,” Laura said, forking the last piece of cake into her mouth. “But we already knew that.”
“She’s not so bad. She has her good qualities.”
“Yeah, well we can discuss those later. Right now I’ve got a few questions for you. What the heck is going on between you and Gray Hartson?”
Chapter Nineteen
“I don’t see much progress on the roof,” his dad said. He coughed loudly, covering his lips with a white starched handkerchief the way he always did. He was well enough to walk outside for a few minutes – and he’d obviously decided to use that time to rile Gray up.
Good luck, old man. Even Ashleigh hadn’t been able to kill Gray’s good mood completely.
“I’m waiting for the materials to be delivered,” Gray said, keeping his voice light. “After that it’s a few days work.” That’s what the Johnson brothers had told him, anyway. “It’ll be done before you know it.”
His dad looked up at the roof with narrowed eyes. “I want it done properly,” he wheezed. “No half baked measures.”
Gray bit down the urge to tell his dad where to go. “I didn’t take half measures with the plumbing and I won’t do it with this.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with married women, you’d get the job done quicker.”
“What?” Gray leaned on the side of the house, surprise pulling his brows together.
“I saw you with Ashleigh Lowe. The two of you looked thick as thieves. You know she has a husband and children?”
“Yeah, I know. And I wasn’t flirting. She came over to say hi and I was polite in return.” He had no idea why he was explaining himself. He didn’t owe his old man anything. Still, the heat started to rise up inside him, the way it always did when his dad was near.
“Best thing she ever did, marrying that man. She’s a clever woman. She knew you weren’t reliable.”
“Is that right?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“You’re not the type who sticks around, are you, Gray? Too busy chasing after the next big thing to think about the people you left behind.” His dad’s eyes narrowed. “Too important to visit your home or think about the people who love you.”
Gray swallowed hard, but the bile kept rising. “Why do you think I’m here? Why do you think I’m spending my free time r
epairing this goddamned house when I could have paid to get it done a hundred times over? For the goodness of my heart?”
“Guilt.” His dad pressed his lips together. “You think it makes up for all those years you never came home. All those times you broke your aunt and sister’s hearts. But a few pipes and shingles prove nothing. You’ll leave again, and we won’t see you for another ten years.”
“You think they’re nothing?” Gray’s voice rose up, it was all he could do not to shout. “All these hours I’ve spent making the house watertight and useable? You want me to stop now? Just leave you with a roof full of holes because you’re too cheap to pay for professional help?”
His dad coughed loudly. “If you want to leave, then go. We’ll deal with it the same way we always have. Without you.”
Gray curled his fists together and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push down the urge to punch something. Anything. His dad knew how to push his buttons. What the hell was he doing here anyway? He could be home in L.A., playing music and relaxing. Instead, he was here, in the small, cloying town he grew up in, getting criticized by his dad for trying to do a good thing.
There was no winning with him. There never was. Why the hell did he keep trying?
“You’re a miserable old man, do you know that?” Gray told him through gritted teeth. “You made my childhood hell after mom died. You pushed every one of us out. We couldn’t wait to leave. Me, Tanner, Logan, and Cam, we were counting down the hours.”
“And yet here you are, right back where you started.”
“Yeah, but not to see you. To make sure Aunt Gina and Becca are okay.”
“They’re fine. They always will be. I make sure of that.” Another cough. “They don’t need your concern or your money. None of us do.”
“You’re going to die a lonely, miserable, old man.”
His dad laughed. It was short and angry and had no humor in it at all. “Not as lonely as you. At least I have my family and my memories, and a town full of friends. What have you got, Gray? A body ruined by tattoos. People who are only your friends because they want what you have to offer. How many of them are real friends? How many of them have called you since you’ve been here? You haven’t had any visitors. So don’t talk to me about being lonely when you’re the one who’s alone.” His dad shook his head and turned away, shuffling off around the corner of the house.
As soon as he disappeared from sight, Gray slammed his hand against the wall. “Fuck!” he shouted. He hated this. He hated him. Why did he still let the old man rile him up like this?