‘You okay, aingeal?’
‘Yep. Fine.’ She made her voice bright again and changed the topic. ‘I’ve ordered furniture for the spare bedroom too, so if you ever wanted to come and visit, you’ll have a room to yourself.’
‘Sounds wonderful. Although, I’m not sure how soon I’ll be able to get away. The tour dates have been extended.’
She swallowed her disappointment, used to it after so many years of being the daughter of a musician. ‘It’s doing well?’
‘So far. It seems people are still willing to pay to see an old rocker like me.’
‘You’re not so old, Papa.’
He snorted down the phone. ‘I am in this industry. Positively ancient.’
‘Are you enjoying it though?’
‘I am, aingeal. Although, I miss seeing your pretty dimples.’
‘I miss you too. I don’t see you enough.’
‘I know. I’m sorry about that. But I promise next time I take a break I’ll come and spend some time with you and that gorgeous grandson of mine. Is he there by the way? I wanted to have a chat with him.’
‘He is here, but I’m not sure where. He was running around with his friends from CoalCliff.’
‘Did he like the t-shirt I sent him? And the hat? And the game?’
‘He loved them.’ Diarmuid Brennan might be an absent grandfather, but he was a thoughtful absent grandfather. It seemed things didn’t change. Although, if Carter was anything like her, he’d prefer to have his Grumpy here with him than get all the gifts Diarmuid sent from his tours around the world. But like she’d had to when she was younger and could no longer tour with him after her mother died, Carter just had to deal with his absence.
‘It’s fine, aingeal, don’t disturb him if he’s having fun, but when everyone’s gone, give me a call. I’d like to have a good chat with my little man. Also, I need to chat with you about a letter I got from Samantha’s lawyer. Apparently, the aunt she went to live with after the accident has died and left her some money and because Carter is her son and lone survivor of her estate, the money will now go to him.’
‘That’s great news.’
‘Yes. Although, it would have been good if the money had come two years ago. Maybe Samantha would still be alive if that was the case.’
‘You know that’s not true, Papa. She would have just used it on drugs for herself and her friends.’
‘You don’t know that. She could have used it to get clean.’
She shook her head, unable to argue with him about this. What had happened to his goddaughter had broken a part of him, especially given he’d been the one who had sent her away after he could no longer deal with looking after his own daughter let alone an extra. The life of a touring musician was a tough one, and too complicated to be dragging two young girls along on the ride when he was suddenly a single dad and dealing with losing his wife and best friend in the same horrible plane accident. It had taken her years to understand why he’d sent her away, but she had come to an understanding of it and rebuilt her relationship with her father in the last few years. Something Carter had definitely helped them both with. Samantha never had come to terms with it, holding onto the bitterness of not only losing her parents, but her second family as well. She’d made a mess of her life, and Samantha’s son, Carter, was still dealing with the upshot of his dead mother’s problematic life choices.
But going over all that with her father again was pointless, so she simply said, ‘What do you need me to do?’
He sighed, then said, ‘There’s a bit to it, and an issue with a stepson who’s making some waves about her will, but I don’t want to worry you with all that now. Just give me a call when you’re done for the day, okay?’
‘I’ll call you when everyone’s gone.’
‘Good. Great. Hang on.’ There was a muffled sound as he spoke with someone on the other end of the phone. ‘Sorry, aingeal, but I have to go. Sebastien’s calling for me. We have to get back into the studio.’
Swallowing her disappointment once again, she nodded. ‘Okay. Talk to you later.’
She shoved her phone in her pocket and stared into the bush on the other side of the road from her house as she willed away the burn in her chest she got every time she spoke to her papa. She missed him so much. She always had. Even when she’d hated him for sending her away to her mother’s strictly religious Hindi family who’d shunned her mother when she’d married Diarmuid. She’d felt like an unwelcome outsider—a fact she’d blamed her father for as much as them when growing up. She tamped down on that old flicker of anger and resentment. Nothing could change the past. Nothing could change Diarmuid Brennan. Nothing could change her relationship with her mother’s family. But she could change how she dealt with it, and she was sick of holding onto the past. She’d made an effort to patch things up with Diarmuid since Carter had come into their lives and she was glad she had. She wasn’t ready to patch things up with her mother’s family though, especially after the carry on over what had happened when she took on the guardianship of Carter and became his mother.
She wasn’t ready to forgive them or Chandra for that.
But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was here. She turned and looked at her house. This was a new start, a new beginning, for her and for Carter. She looked up at the sky, imagining her mother, the dimples creasing around her mouth as she smiled down at her daughter, her dark eyes and dusky skin shining in the late afternoon sunlight in that way that had always made Prita think she was like an
