Ghost Silk (Ghost Perfume, Book 2) | ✔

5 - Pay for Me - Part 1 (Rose)

Tommy texted me out of the blue, late on Wednesday. We talked on the phone and he said that he believed me, he trusted me and we were okay. His voice sounded normal.

He talked with Michael on the phone too. Michael handed the phone back to me after a few brief, cold sentences.

Tommy suggested we meet on the following Saturday. He invited Michael too, and Michael agreed.

Michael was strange. I was confident that he harbored no nice feelings for Tommy. But he was going to help heal the rift between us.

"Where's the wife, Michael?" Lukas called mockingly from the door. "I hear the little wife is so happy to have adopted Rose?"

Michael held my door open. "She may still be at the store. There's a specialty mousse she's dying to buy for Rose's hair."

Lukas's smirk disappeared. He held up a middle finger and slammed the door shut.

I knew Michael's wife was their newest joke, but I didn't think it was very funny. And I hoped Lukas still got me my mousse.

"Let's not stay too long," I said. Rain pelted the roof and sides of the car as we drove out from under the tarp.

"However long you want."

"I want to give him the epistol, and, um ..."

Michael glanced at me. "Hm?"

The gates broke open before us at the end of the driveway. We drove out through the dense, rain-blurred forest.

"I was thinking, I know he's going to sell those manuscripts, and, maybe our dad – maybe he's getting money from our extended family, but I could ..." I tried to think through how to word the sentence.

"You want to give him a share in our businesses? We could, no problem," Michael said agreeably. "Your family is ours."

My thank you got stuck in my throat, too small a word.

"Yours is mine too," I said and immediately reddened at the corniness. Michael smiled at me, a thoughtful considering look brimming behind the smile. It eased away as he drawled, "Careful what you get yourself into."

"Is your family hard to deal with?"

Michael had turned back to look straight through the windshield. The windshield wipers tick-ticked a steady beat down the streets of Mount Kyllene, while the rain drummed faster fingers over us.

"I avoid it when I can, certainly." I thought I'd overstepped with my question, but then he volunteered, in cool and vague terms, "My father is a harsh man. He's the kind of man I would never leave you alone with. He was by turns kind and cruel with us when we were younger, playing favorites, trying to mold us into the versions of us he believed would be strongest. He subjected us to several terrible ordeals while our mother watched and approved ... the deepest problems between my brothers and I – our father caused that. Here we are."

We parked in my old driveway. I was sorry to end the conversation, but Michael was already leaving the car.

Alexander's old house looked the same. I wondered who'd move in now.

I realized I thought of it as Alexander's old house; and the house before me was Tommy's house. I'd erased myself from here.

Well, good, I thought fiercely as I looked up at Michael. He had opened my door and stood with an open umbrella and a steady gaze and his hand held out. I had no stake in this place anymore.

I took his hand.

The door opened at my knock. My dad stood there.

He was older and more worn-looking than I remembered. Of course. I hadn't seen him in years.