Page 59 of Noble Neighbor
“For?”
He shimmied back and pushed to his knees, then to his feet, sending his dad a triumphant look, holding up a small, square plastic lid. “This.”
“Ah.”
Oliver followed his father’s gaze as his old man looked about the kitchen, the contents of the disemboweled plasticware cupboard spread across the table and counters.
He picked up a container and tried to fit the lid. It wasn’t a match.
Frustrated, he chucked the lid and container down in disgust. “How come we have these three extra lids” — he picked up the stack of square six-inch-wide lids — “but none for that one?” He sent the lidless plastic to the floor. “And where the hell is this one’s” — he waved the lid he’d found wedged in the back of the cupboard — “container?”
His dad calmly placed the carton of milk he held in the fridge before taking a seat at the table. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No. I wanna match lids to containers and containers to lids.”
“Well, then,” his dad started. “Those three lids belongto theglassdishes in there,” he said, pointing to a cupboard beside the stove. “As for this one …” He leaned down and picked up the container on the floor before stretching out an arm, fingers wiggling.
Oliver handed over the lid in his hand.
“This one, son” — his dad tapped the container — “is not quite square, so if you turn this lid like so” — he rotated the lid — “it fits just fine.”
“Oh.”
“Now, sit your ass down and tell me what’s bugging you, and why the hell Harvey’s cage is covered and Nala’s skulking about outside.”
Knowing it was futile to argue, and maybe he could do with some of his father’s wisdom, he gave his old man an abridged version of recent events. But as he laid out the facts, Oliver realized how hasty, and foolish, he’d been.
“I’m pressuring her,” he admitted.
“You are.”
“But what if she’sneverready, Dad?”
His father sat back and gave him a thoughtful look. “I’m gonna tell you something confidential, Oliver. It’s about Rena.”
“Lorena?”
“She was married for twenty-two years. Her husband was an alcoholic, and she stuck by him. He wasn’t physically abusive, but there are many forms of abuse, and he did a number on her over the years. It was a continuous cycle of lies, of promises, of belittlin’, a couple of affairs, followed by more lies, more abuse, until his liver gave in and he died.”
Frank leaned forward, meeting Oliver’s gaze. “Here’s the thing … Rena will never marry again. I’ve asked, and she’s turned me down. Twice.”
“I didn’t know, Dad. I’m sorry.”
His old man smiled wryly, shrugging. “Don’t be. I want Rena in my life. Even on her terms. I love the woman, desperately, and would be honored to make her my wife, but it’s not gonna happen. Our situation is not ideal, but I adjusted … like that lid there that only fits one way. Now” — he stood — “why don’t I make myself scarce while you set your mind, and this kitchen, back to rights.”
Oliver watched his father retrieve a very subdued bird from the cage before leaving the kitchen. He looked at the clutter around him and huffed a sigh.
He had some stuff to sort in his mind and a mess to clean in the kitchen.
*
As Oliver stepped upon the porch, the front door opened. Sunny stood in the doorway, an inscrutable look on her face.
He halted a short distance away. “I’m sorry, Sunny.”
She raised her brows. “For?”
Ah, hell. This wasn’t going to be easy. He rubbed his nape, sending her a side-eye. “For starters, I hung up on you.”
