Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9(63)

“Here you go.”

Jack looked at the keys Sean held out to him as they walked toward the back end of the lot. “What?”

“Your six weeks are up. You’ve got clearance to drive now. Unless you want me to be your chauffer.”

A tendril of excitement mixed in with a new respect for his son. “Hell, no. What did you bring?”

“The ‘Stang,” Sean smirked. “Your car’s at my garage. Nicki tuned it up and now she’s detailing it for you.”

Jack was fond of his black Infinity sedan, but Sean’s custom ’67 Shelby GT500 Eleanor was a damn fun car to drive. And Sean rarely let anyone drive it.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “You’re letting me drive the Shelby?”

“Yeah, but don’t get used to it. This is a one-time, congratulatory type gift.”

“For what, not dying?” Jack snorted.

“You don’t want to drive? Fine. Give me the keys.”

For a moment, Jack saw a flash of icy fire in Sean’s eyes before he could cover it up, and Jack realized that his off-the-cuff remark hit a little too close to home. Some of that irritation he’d been feeling was replaced by another twinge of guilt.

“Not a chance,” Jack said, pulling the keys close to his chest. “Let’s go.”

It felt good to be behind the wheel again, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable experience. The super-responsive muscle car drew attention to the fact that he hadn’t driven a stick shift in a while, but it came back to him fairly quickly. To Sean’s credit, the boy refrained from making a single comment. Judging by the completely blank expression on his face by the time they arrived at the garage, Jack guessed it would be a while before Sean asked him to drive the Shelby again.

“Hey, Dad.” Nicki came out of one of the bays with a torque wrench in hand. Her diamond-like pale eyes widened when she realized he had been the one driving. Clearly, she was every bit as surprised as he had been by her husband’s beneficence. That expression of surprise morphed into a knowing smirk. “Fun to drive, isn’t she?”

That earned her a glare from Sean. “You drove my car?”

Nicki, who, despite her unnerving beauty, was every bit as tough as Sean (maybe even more so), grinned wider and ignored her husband. “I’ve got the Infinity all ready for you. It’s in great shape, but I replaced the plugs and a few gaskets that were starting to show some wear and tear.”

“Woman, when did you drive my car?”

“After I swapped out the super-charger for a better model,” she said, flicking her hand in dismissal before turning back to Jack. “I adjusted the timing, too, so she should run smooth as glass for you.”

“You did what?”

“Thank you, lass,” Jack said. Watching the two of them spar was always entertaining, but more often than not escalated into a show of dominance that inevitably led to them sneaking off into a nearby unoccupied room or broom closet. Jack preferred to make his escape before things reached that level.

Nicki broke her gaze away from her husband and looked at Jack. “So where are you going, now that you are a free man again?”

That was a good question. Now that he no longer needed to be driven around, he could go anywhere he wanted, without constant supervision. The realization was liberating. Suddenly he knew exactly where he wanted to go.

“I’ll probably drive around for a bit, then head over to the Pub.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything.” Nicki reached into her jeans and pulled out the keys to his car.

“I will,” Jack nodded.

Slipping into the contoured leather seats of his luxury sedan felt comforting, familiar. He chuckled to himself, thinking of how far he’d come since that old Ford Galaxie. He could almost hear Kathleen’s bell-like laughter as she teased him about going soft. Then she’d smile and kiss him, and tell him that he deserved a bit of extra comfort in his advancing years.

He stopped at the flower shop and scanned the wide assortment of potted mums so prevalent at this time of year. After a brief deliberation, he selected a deep crimson one, then chose a muted gold foil as the wrap.

That done, Jack wound his way through town, then turned into the gated drive of St. Patrick’s cemetery. As he had hundreds of times before, he got out of his car and walked up the slight incline to the top of the hill. The sprawling sugar maple was a dazzling array of fiery reds and oranges. He’d chosen this location specifically for its beauty and scenic view, even petitioning to plant this tree here nearly twenty-five years earlier.

Tears welled in his eyes when he saw the half-dozen or so mums already placed there. Mums had been Kathleen’s favorite flower, and Jack always brought them when he visited Kathleen’s grave. Clearly, someone had been covering that for him as well.

He set the pot down amidst the others and sat down on the bench his sons had so kindly placed there for him. It was yet another thing they never spoke of.

Jack leaned back and closed his eyes. It was so peaceful there, with rays of sunlight shining in beams through the leaves and branches. With a hand over his chest, he inhaled as deeply as he dared, drawing in the scents of freshly mown grass and autumn leaves. There was something unique about smell of leaves this time of year. They were sweeter. Richer. As if offering one final gift before they crumbled and decayed back into the earth. It was the natural cycle of things.