Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I took a sip of the perfectly chilled wine and shrugged. I didn’t want to bore him. A tour on a tourist bus was almost certainly not his thing. “It was a tour of the city from a bus. You’d have been bored.”
He leaned forward. “But did you enjoy it?”
The intense curiosity in his eyes was unnerving and exhilarating. “Yes. I did.”
“Hmmm… I’ve never done anything like that,” he said thoughtfully. “I always fly in and out of cities until they all blend together.”
“I suppose you’re not on holiday. You’re working.”
“Yes. So… did you see everything you wanted to?”
I’d only had half a glass of wine, but it must have gone to my head because I could have sworn he seemed to be so much warmer and kinder.
“I didn’t get to see the waterfalls,” I found myself saying, a wistful note in my voice. I suddenly remembered my parents taking my sister and me to theme parks all over the country. I hadn’t thought of my childhood in such a long time. My mother’s financial problems had crowded out all the old good memories I had of my parents.
He leaned forward. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head and reached for my glass of wine.
“Tell me about your family?” he invited softly.
My eyes widened. “My family? Why do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “Just curious about you. If I remember correctly, you told my mother that your dad had passed away and your family consisted of your mother and your older sister who was married with twins.”
I stared at him astonished. He had remembered that throwaway bit of information!
“Do you miss your dad?” he asked gently.
Memories of my father came flooding back and I had to swallow the hard lump in my throat. “Yes, I miss him very much. None of this mess would have happened if he was still alive.” As the words left my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have said that. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my private life or to relive that nightmare again.
“What mess?” Max asked. His voice was so full of warmth and caring I felt confused by the change in his character.
“Nothing.”
“It’s obviously not nothing. Tell me. I’m a good listener and I’ve been known to solve a few problems in my time,” he said, his tone friendly and encouraging. I’d never heard him speak like this before.
“Okay.” I took a sip of wine and inhaled deeply. I’d never discussed the situation with anyone apart from my sister, of course, but even with her, I’d just skimmed the surface as she had been angry with my mother for a long time.
“After my father died, my mother got married to a man whose great dream had always been to own a restaurant. He roped her in on his dream and to help him, she remortgaged our childhood home. It did well at first, but after the initial excitement died down, people moved on to other newer establishments.”
Max nodded. “It’s the nature of that business. You have to have something special that will keep them coming back.”
“Unfortunately, Henry didn’t have that special something. To keep the restaurant afloat she took out a loan on top of remortgaging the house. Both my sister and I tried to convince her to stop throwing away good money after bad, but Henry was adamant he just needed time to turn things around and my mother just went along with it.”
It took a moment to realize that the voice coming out of me was throbbing with fury. I’d never before expressed my anger over the whole situation. I’d tried to be kind and understanding so as not to upset my mother more. But the truth was, I carried a lot of anger. Henry had no right to come into my mother’s life and turn it completely upside down, in fact, getting very close to destroying it.
“A lot of people make that mistake,” Max said quietly while softly caressing my hand.
“So he took his own life, leaving Mom with the loans and a huge mortgage that she couldn’t make the payments on,” I said bitterly. “My sister and I have tried to convince her to sell the big house and buy a smaller place, but she won’t hear of it. Says all her memories are in that house.”
“So how does your mother manage?” Max asked.
I lifted my wine glass and drained it. “She’s got a job… and I help out where I can.” I was careful with my words. I didn’t want to tell Max that I was the one who paid my mother’s mortgage. She wasn’t there listening to the conversation, but it felt like betrayal saying that.
He refilled my glass without waiting for the waiter to do it and smiled an almost fatherly smile. “A job? What kind of job?”