Page 52 of Perfect

Talk about awkward. His expression glittered in a way that made the air thump from my lungs. He was angry. Even his tattooed arm seemed to bristle.

Rachel brushed past her son.

“Con was just about to take over from your father. He isn’t the best cook your dad, as I imagine you’re more than aware of.” She smiled, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. Probably because Connor just continued to stand there in silence glaring at me.

He was as still as a statue and I took a step forward and recovered myself, craning my head to Rachel.

“Cool. I’m starving,” I replied breezily, not wanting to cause a further scene.

Rachel trotted over to me. She was also slight in build but still taller than I was.

She squinted at Connor as we made our way toward the backdoor.

“Connor, are you coming?”

I turned back to meet his eyes again, but he dragged his gaze away and shot his mother a look that could have melted glass. My heart leaped in my chest.

Temper oozed from him and his mouth had thinned.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he drawled before turning around and heading through the hallway with determined steps. The front door slammed angrily, shaking the windows in the kitchen and my leaping heart sank.

I worried my lip as I glanced nervously up at Rachel but she had gathered herself again and she ushered me through the back door, muttering something about kids.

I needed to shelve the chaos in my head for now and play nice to get through supper.

The smell in the air was divine. I had always loved that BBQ smell that came with summer. That and cut grass. Rachel and I went over to dad who appeared to be wearing a woman’s apron, but I didn’t smile. I was too worried about Connor. There were way too many thoughts swimming around my head.

My father was also wielding BBQ tools and looked completely out of his comfort zone. Weren’t all men supposed to be born with the ability to BBQ?

He twisted his head as we approached and his face was flushed red, either from the heat of the grill or from the stress of attempting to cook.

“There you are. You look nice love,” Dad said as he briefly glanced over before focusing on the overdone burger he was cremating. “Both my girls do,” he beamed.

Rachel and I exchanged glances with knowing smiles.

“Need a hand there?” she laughed as she unhooked her arm from mine and retrieved the BBQ tongs from my father.

“I thought you’d never ask. Did you speak to Connor?”

I saw Rachel’s shoulders stiffen and sucked in a ragged breath. Guilt dug in between my ribs.

“Yes, and It's fine. He isn’t eating though, so more for us!” She joked, but you could tell from the tremor in her voice that she was upset.

“Who’s for a burger?” Dad asked, swiftly changing the subject. I raised my hand and gave him a nod before heading over to take a seat on one of the patio chairs. The table was laid with various salads and what I imagined were tin foiled jacket potatoes and an array of sauces.

“I hope you like them well done?” Rachel put in. Of course, we all laughed, but it felt kind of forced.

Rachel and Dad buzzed around the BBQ, flipping burgers and turning sausages. I started picking at a burger bun as Dad took my plate.

My mind was a myriad of questions. I was no Nancy Drew but it was obvious from what they had discussed that Connor’s dad was the main focus and it wasn’t good. I knew from my father that Rachel’s relationship with her last husband had been hard, but the word ‘safe’ had rocketed my conclusions up to the next level. Had he been an aggressive wife-beating type? Wasthatwhy they were hiding? The thought made me sick to my stomach. Rachel was such a sweet lady and the thought of any physical abuse towards her made me angry. It was a deep-rooted anger, something I rarely experienced. My family life had been plain sailing compared to this, even with my mum and her drinking problems.

I thanked dad as he handed me back my plate and feigned interest as he and Rachel joined me and started to speak about the timings of the cattle show on Saturday.

I pushed my summations to the back of my mind as there was no point in dwelling on it or jumping to conclusions. I would speak with Dad about it when we next had our chill-out time together, but maybe not straight away. I wanted my dad to be with Rachel that evening as no doubt she needed to update him on her quarrel with Connor.

I took a bite of burger, it luckily tasted better than it looked and I added another blob of ketchup to an extra charred edge; my eyes flicking back and forth between my dad and his wife.

Whatever Connor thought of me, whatever his pain, I was part of this family now and I needed to know what was going on. I refused to be left in the dark, like when my parents were struggling yet ‘pretending’ to be happy. I was now a young adult and it wasmyduty to help and protect the family where I could. I’d get the truth out of my father one way or another and if that failed, I’d go to Connor.

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