“This is your place?” Karina hesitates.
“No, I’m house-sitting.”
She frowns, not gathering it’s a joke.
The plot of land stretches onto open fields with no neighbors nearby. The land is wild, and it feels like another world just outside of the city. We’ve actually crossed state lines but it’s not that far from the compound.
“Relax,” I say. “The place is mine. My grandfather passed his property on to me when he died.”
“Oh, why don’t you live here if you own the house?”
She follows me inside as I hit the lights. The electricity still works. I pay the bills on the property since it’s in my name.
I never needed to sell the place. The thought of parting with it was too painful. There were lots of good memories, spending summers with my grandfather up here. And there’s always the opportunity to get away from the world by coming here.
I also have a bachelor pad in the city where I used to take the ladies for a wild night.
Another secret she doesn’t need the details to.
“Alessandro has been generous in letting me stay with him. It’s allowed me to climb the ranks quite fast, being under his scrutiny.”
Her brow tightens as she gazes over the furniture and takes in the surroundings.
“I know it’s not much.”
She wanders toward an end table with photographs, lifting one of the frames and studying the picture.
I come up behind her, glancing over her shoulder at the photo of my grandpa and me camping. The little boy in the picture looks so much like Ashton. The resemblance is uncanny.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers, placing the frame carefully back onto the table. “Why take us here?”
“Do you want to play catch?” I ask Ashton, heading toward the bedroom closet.
My old room from when I’d visit as a kid.
Ashton is silent as I head down the hallway.
Even though I only came for summers, Grandpa insisted that the room would always be mine. I had a home with him, no matter what.
I open the closet, and on the top shelf is a baseball and glove, just as I’d left it.
“You’ve played catch before, right?” I ask, ushering him out through the front door and around to the side of the house, away from the vehicle.
Ashton hesitates, and Karina follows, her hands on his shoulders.
“Go play. You’ll have fun.”
He putters behind. I hand him the baseball, showing him the proper way to hold the ball and follow through with his throw.
Keeping the mitt for myself, I take a few steps back, letting him toss the ball.
His aim is way off, but he’s got a strong arm, and I have to make sure he doesn’t hit a window on the first couple of throws.
But after a few minutes, he quickly gets the hang of throwing the ball at me.
I want to be the kind of father for Ashton that I never had.
Karina leans against the house, arms folded. “You mind if I take a walk?” she asks.