The Summer of Sunshine and Margot(30)

Chapter Eight


Declan found himself eager to get home. Sunshine’s text around eleven had made him chuckle. We have ants! Connor would be thrilled and knowing his son was happy made him happy, as well.

He didn’t have to go out to the Malibu job site, so he was able to leave work at five and be home by five-thirty. He walked in from the garage and called out that he was back. Connor came running and flung his arms around Declan’s waist.

“Daddy, Daddy, they’re here! Sunshine waited for them to arrive and kept them safe until I got home. We moved them into the ant farm and they’re really happy. Come see! Come see!”

Declan allowed his son to drag him into his room where the ant farm sat on his desk.

“Sunshine says I should wait at least a month before getting a second one. That I have to prove I can take care of them and that I don’t lose interest.”

“Those are excellent points,” Declan said, not bothering to mention that there wasn’t actually much to do when it came to the ant farm. Making sure Connor wanted to pursue his ant farm dreams was the main thing.

“Sunshine is really smart.”

“She is.”

And gorgeous and sexy as hell and the stuff sexual dreams were made of, none of which he would ever say and probably shouldn’t think.

“I’m going to get changed, then let’s check out what’s for dinner.”

“Okay, Dad. I’m going to watch my ants.”

Declan kissed the top of his son’s head before going into the master and changing into jeans and a T-shirt. He collected Connor on his way to the kitchen.

“We’re having barbecue chicken tonight,” Connor said. “And pasta salad. I helped with that. It was fun.” He wrinkled his nose. “And roasted vegetables. Sunshine said the barbecue makes them better tasting but I don’t know if that’s true.”

Declan saw the table was already set and Sunshine was indeed outside, at the barbecue. She already had a large platter of cooked chicken beside her, along with a few pieces of raw chicken. Apparently she’d been at the grill for a while.

“I’m going to check on Sunshine,” he said. “Do you want—”

“I’m going back to my ants!” Connor yelled as he skipped down the hall.

Declan pulled a couple of beers out of the refrigerator before heading outside. Sunshine smiled when she saw him.

“Hi. How was your day?”

“Good.” He handed her a beer. “You do realize barbecuing is man’s work.”

“I’m breaking down barriers left and right.”

He nodded at the impressive pile of cooked chicken. “I’m not sure we’re that hungry.”

“I’ll freeze it.”

“That or you’ll need to invite the neighborhood.” He glanced toward the house. “Connor’s very excited about the ants.”

“I know. The transfer went very smoothly. I think the ant farm is going to be good for him.”

“I agree.”

It was something positive for Connor to focus on after the last few difficult months.

Sunshine motioned to the plate of cooked chicken. “Would you please take that inside for me? I’ll put them away when they cool off. Dinner’s going to be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“You want me to barbecue for you?”

“What is it about men and outdoor cooking?”

“It’s very primal.”

“Apparently. Really, I can handle this. Go unwind from your day. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He carried the chicken inside and left it on the counter, then walked into the living room. The furniture was exactly the same as it had been since he and Iris had bought the house. Almost every room was. The only thing he’d changed had been the master bedroom. After she’d died, he’d hired a decorator to completely redo the room. A piss-poor way to try to exorcise ghosts, but it was the only thing he could think of to do.

Connor was doing better, he reminded himself. That was something. Time was helping him heal but he thought a lot of his improvement was due to Sunshine. She and Connor clicked and it was good to hear his son laughing again. Neither of them had laughed for a long time.

He knew he was still battling anger. Declan had been angry for so long, he wasn’t sure who he would be if he let it go. He’d carried his rage around for months before Iris had told him she was sick. He’d had to pretend everything was fine for Connor’s sake, but it hadn’t been.

Even now he wondered if he should have left her. Would that have been better—a clean break? A divorce? Only what about Connor? There would have been the double blow. No, staying, however hellish, had been the right decision. Their son hadn’t known Declan had slept on his home office sofa for months before Iris’s diagnosis. He hadn’t known his parents’ marriage had been shattered to the point that it could never be repaired. At least as far as Declan knew. He’d never had the opportunity to make a decision one way or the other.

Maybe that was what pissed him off the most. There’d been no choice, no opportunity to talk about it, to work it out. Because right when he’d thought he might be willing to try, she’d told him she was dying. That the cancer she’d kept from him, the cancer that she’d assumed could be easily treated, had taken a turn and now she had less than a couple of months to live. A couple of months that had turned out to be three weeks. There had been only shock and disbelief and then she’d been gone.