Page 60 of A Box of Wishes
“I heard. You were trying to make time for yourself and Ben. But she’d have guilt-tripped you regardless and you would have caved in the end. I’m sorry to say it, but your ma is ruthless when she wants to get her way.”
“Don’t make her sound like that. She wants to do a good job and keep her business running.”
“She can do that with agency staff. Or she can hire more people. Same as you do.” Alastair reached for a teapot and hunted through the caddies of tea for one that appealed to him. “Helping people is what you do, I get it. That doesn’t mean your ma should take advantage. Or that you should let her. You deserve time and space to do what you want as much as anyone else.”
“Says the man who never asks anything for himself.” Ryan stood and took the teapot from Alastair’s hand. “Give that here. We want the Irish for that discussion.” He pointed. “The deep green caddy at the end of the row.”
“We weren’t talking about me.” Alastair brought the caddy to where Ryan stood beside the kettle. “I’m happy with what I have.”
“Bullshit. You go along with the majority and make do with what you get. That’s not happy.”
“Funny how it’s always others we see clearly, isn’t it?”
The strange note in Alastair’s voice made Ryan look at him.Reallylook, as he hadn’t while struggling to stand his ground against his mother’s demands. His cousin’s brief spurt of indignation was gone and had wiped the animation from his face in passing. Alastair Donohue was so far from happy, it was laughable.
Eyes dulled by lack of sleep and circled by shadows. Unruly stubble. Hair that needed scissors as well as shampoo and a comb. Only the quality of his wardrobe ensured he was even remotely presentable.
Ryan was glad that Alastair had sought him out. That he could feed him lunch and watch over him for a while—even if it was all Alastair would let him do. Because Ryan had seen that hunched-over posture many times before. And it presaged nothing good.
He filled a plate with pastries, added toasted sandwiches to another, and set both in front of Alastair. Teapot and cups followed, and then he took his seat opposite his cousin.
“You’re not going to tell me what bothers you, are you?”
Alastair took a sandwich and then stared down at it rather than meet Ryan’s eyes. “Don’t think I’m ready for that,” he said.
Just as Ryan had known he would.
“Your two attackers work for a debt collection agency,” Ben said during his usual evening stop to pick up Morris. A boisterous birthday party had taken over the main room of the coffeehouse, and he sat at a table in Ryan’s kitchen while Morris snoozed on the second chair.
“I don’t owe money to anyone, so they were definitely at the wrong address. And working extremely late.”
“Like you will tonight?”
“Yeah, but this is Paula’s mum’s party. It’s fun.”
Ben contemplated the sleeping cat. “Morris doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s been making the rounds, soaking up the cuddles. He’s a company cat. Did you know that he makes an excellent babysitter? Paula had her baby daughter with her this morning, and as soon as Kimberley woke up there was Morris, meowing and waving a paw at Paula to alert her. It was hilarious!”
“I’m sorry, big boy,” he said, stroking the cat’s velvety nose. “I had no idea you felt lonely when I wasn’t home.” Morris chirruped and blinked big green eyes at Ben as if he understood every word Ben said.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Ryan said just as Tarbert had done earlier. “He loves it here. And I love having him around.”
“Are you sure? My hours can get as out of hand as yours and I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage.”
“You’re not.” Ryan’s cheeks took on some pink, but he forged on regardless. “Seeing you first thing in the morning and last thing at night is… a sweet routine. It makes me think I won’t lose you, even if we have so little time for more.”
“‘Routine’. Who’d have thought that I’d be grateful for it one day?” Ben leaned over and pecked Ryan on the cheek, wishing he could linger, kiss and touch until they were both riled enough to set the place on fire.
The shouts of laughter from the other room held him back.
Paula could drop in on them at any moment, and while she didn’t object to the two of them together, Ben had no plans to give her a show.
“Routines are a godsend,” Ryan said. “Just look at Morris. I didn’t believe you when you said you can set your watch by him. But you were right.”
“Cats like their routines. They also change them without warning, and then you’re left standing there like a muppet, unable to make sense of what just happened. When I first adopted Morris, he only ate fish. Fresh fish, cooked fish, fishy cat food… just fish and nothing else. And then, one day, I gave him his breakfast and he looked at me as if I was trying to poison him with that plate of tuna. Flat out refused to go near it. And I had a cupboard full of fishy cat food and nothing else in the house.”
“I bet you went shopping in your lunch break and went home to feed him just so he wouldn’t starve.”
