Page 3 of The Gargoyle's Grace
“Ma’am?”
“Don’t let that one”—I pointed at Magnus—“take more than two servings. I don’t have deliveries coming for a few days yet.”
Rylan chuckled, and Magnus raised a hand to his chest as though wounded. “I take more abuse in this room than anywhere else in my life, and I’m asoldier. You’re brutal, woman.”
I raised my eyebrow at his commentary, shaking my head as his mouth slid into a grin. “You know the solution to that, of course,” I prompted.
“Which is?”
“Stop coming into this room.”
His eyes and mouth went wide, and Rylan laughed openly, amused as always, by our trading barbs. “Surely you don’t mean that.”
I arched an eyebrow in response, which had him grumbling under his breath while Rylan laughed harder. He did offer some comfort after a moment with a brief shoulder pat.
“You have this in hand, Sara?”
“Yes ma’am,” she confirmed with a confident nod, and the trio went into the kitchen together.
I inhaled and set off through the hall, arm already aching from the weight of the basket. Once out in the early evening air, I finally felt able to take a full breath. I hated that I still felt so uncomfortable around the people I considered close as family. But I’d failed them in an unforgivable way, and atoning was a process I’d just begun to work through.
As I strode out of the gate and into the city streets, the organized chaos of industry humming around me lightened my mood. The further I got from my place of employment, the easier I was able to pretend that everything was okay. I was simply a woman headed to have dinner with her parents. Just another day in an ordinary life.
Except that it wasn’t. It was the end of the month, and that meant after dinner I’d have another errand to run, one that I looked forward to less and less.
“Evening, Grace! Care for a stem or two this week?”
“You know I can’t resist you, Maurice.” I hated to part with even a single coin, but the aged little florist had a big piece of my heart. He’d run the same cart on the same corner since I was a little girl.
I handed over the money, and he pulled out a small bouquet I knew he’d made up special for me.
“My mother will thank you as well,” I said, tucking the paper-wrapped bundle under my arm.
“Give her my best!” He gave a stiff bow, bending at the waist with his arm across his chest.
I waved, wishing there would never come a day where I didn’t find him behind his cart. I knew it was likely he’d be retired soon, though. I secured the basket as close to my body as I could and maneuvered through crowded alleys where food vendors slung their tasty wares and around avenues where foot traffic slowed us all down to barely moving.
The sun was on its final descent as I finally made it to the little apartment block where my parents lived. Expecting me, they didn’t even have their front door closed.
“What’s this?” I asked, walking in and setting the basket down on the small slab of countertop that separated the kitchen from the living area. “Anyone could stroll in and take what they wanted.”
My father laughed, planted both hands on the armrests, and lifted himself from his well-loved chair. “Not much to take, but if they did any such thing, then they probably need it more than we do.”
His generosity was one of the things I loved most about him, despite the trouble it had gotten him into. “I brought your favorite,” I said, allowing him to lean in and kiss my scarred cheek as I unloaded the basket’s contents and gathered up plates. “And some of that ointment you like.”
“You’re too good to me, Gigi.”
I shook my head. Every time he used my childhood nickname, I felt decades younger. “I brought these for Mama too. Where is she?”
My dad cleared his throat as he fished around in a cabinet for a vase. “She’ll be home later.”
“Later?” I asked, worried by that answer. “How much later?”
He filled a milky white glass container with water and put the flowers into it. “I’m sure she’ll be here before you have to go.” He fidgeted with the bouquet, avoiding my eye.
“Papa.” I pinned him with a look as I handed over a plate full of his favorite casserole, and he folded.
“She took another child-minding job this week,” he said, eyes guilty.
