Page 12 of Mass Sins

Monday’s were fun for me.

I got to see Dad again at the shop, and I got to listen to him talk about the things he did all weekend. He was a member of a motorcycle club, and while I wasn’t part of that world, I loved how much he loved it.

He had always been into big and loud bikes, and though he had been around the clubhouse for years, he never committed to being a member. Only after I moved out of the house he decidedto take the next step and accept the leather cut he would wear proudly.

The contrast between his job as a tailor and his hobby as a tattooed, bearded, and leather-wearing biker guy was big, but if that’s what made him happy, no one could take it from him.

This morning, I brought croissants and coffee for breakfast, and we ate it before opening the shop. He told me about the trip he went on with a few of hisbrothersfrom the club and thought he didn’t tell me why the trip was for, he seemed to have fun.

“Are you going to introduce me to some of those guys soon?” I asked, smiling at him.

“I’m not so sure you want to meet them, sweetheart. They live in a whole different world.” His voice was raspy and deep.

“So? You live in a different one now too since you’ve joined that club. And they sound like good men.”

“We’ll see, Bennie.”

I smiled at him. “Okay. Are you done?” I asked, pointing at his paper plate in front of him. He nodded, and I cleaned up the table we had standing in the back of the shop. “I want to ask Sinclair if she wants to come over here for lunch later. Would that be okay?”

“Of course. We can order in,” he suggested.

“Great. I’ll let her know.”

Dad was a fan of Sinclair. He always called her his third daughter, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have minded having another sister. We both adored her, and so, I made sure to text her later to invite her over to spend lunchtime with us.

Chapter 5

BENNIE

Sin closed her boutique over lunch so she could come over, and she had come just in time before we got the pizzas we ordered thirty minutes ago.

I hugged her before she went over to Dad to give him a hug as well, and he kissed her on the head. “Good to see you, Sinclair.”

“You too, Connor. How was your weekend?” she asked.

We all sat down at the round table and opened our pizza boxes, and while we started eating, Dad told her about his ride out with the club.

“Sounds like you’ve really found something you love doing. I mean, you’re a great tailor, but everyone needs a hobby outside of work.”

“You’re right about that. And I intend on keeping up with that hobby. Makes me happy,” Dad told her. “Bennie told me your little girl had a birthday last Saturday. How’s she doing?”

“Oh, she’s wonderful. She’s so active during the day which tires her out every night. She’s been sleeping like an angel lately.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Dad said, shooting an amused glance in my direction. “Sounds like one of my babies.”

Dad always used to tell the stories of how sweet I was as a kid. How obedient and kind I was the older I got. He saw me as his angel, and that was why he couldn’t understand why I got cancer. He knew he did nothing wrong in the way he raised me, and me getting sick hit him almost as hard as it hit me.

Still, I was a fighter, and I got most of that strength from him. His support and love was what got me through, and without him, I couldn’t have done it.

I smiled at him and reached out my hand to squeeze his arm gently. “I’m still your baby, Dad. Even if I’m an adult. I’ll always be around.”

“And I’m glad about that. At least one of my daughters keeps me in their lives. Haven’t heard from your sister in months.”

My older sister was…a mess.

I loved her, but she was all over the place. She was older than me by fifteen years, and it had always been clear that she didn’t like the idea of our parents having another baby. She had always been their only child, until I was born, and since then, she turned into a brat. She became annoyed with everything our parents did, and because she was a teenager back then, she started to rage against our parents at any possible moment.

She didn’t listen, argued with them, and basically did everything our parents told her not to do. She became difficult, and when I was old enough to understand that, I had thought I had been at fault for her behavior.

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