Page 172 of Sing with Me

He had hemmed and hawed until his answer came back as diplomatic as a feral cat fighting back animal control out to take him to a kill shelter.

He couldn’t believe he had told Skye that this was the twenty-first century and why would he be jealous if they were not married to each other?

What?

He closed his eyes and groaned. There was no comeback for his statement to Skye, which effectively ended their late-night conversation.

Yeah, he could always blame the time of day. He wasn’t himself or something.

The tap outside his office door startled him. He glanced at the clock on his laptop. It was way past eleven at night. He thought everyone was asleep.

“Who’s there?” Diehl asked, as if it mattered. Actually it was a lazy man’s way of finding out without having to get out of his chair, go to the door, and see who was there.

Dad’s cane appeared between the doors.

How much had Dad heard?

“I was getting some water,” Dad said. “Mind if I sit a spell?”

“Sure.” Diehl pointed to a plush armchair on the other side of the office.

“When this was my office, I had two sofas over there.” Dad pointed toward the empty window area with his cane. “Parker and I would each take a sofa and we’d look out into the garden and talk business.”

It was for that very reason that Diehl had moved both couches to another room in the house as soon as he bought the house from his parents. They sold the house to him because they retired to the Georgia coast shortly after Diehl’s older brother passed away.

Parker had been the torch of Brooks Investments. A business genius, he kept Grandpa’s legacy alive, and out-earned Dad and Grandpa combined.

Diehl had looked up to his older brother almost all his life. Parker married a beautiful and brilliant woman, whom he had met at Harvard Business School. With Riley, he had two kids. With her, he had taken Brooks Investments to new heights.

Every time Diehl looked at those empty couches Dad talked about, all Diehl saw were memories of Parker laughing while Dad told jokes. The visuals in his mind were too painful for Diehl to relive every single time he walked into this house.

“You had a lot of furniture,” Diehl finally said.

“Your mom went to many auctions.” Dad’s voice cracked.

Diehl wondered if Dad had also recalled his favorite son.

Yes, Diehl admitted it, he would always be the middle child. It wasn’t that Dad would love him less than Parker, but Parker had come first.

“I kind of like it sparse.”

“So it seems.” Dad sat down in the armchair which Diehl had pointed to earlier.

“Are we just chatting or are we talking business?” Diehl asked.

“We should be able to just chat about life as father and son, don’t you think?” Dad leaned his cane against the coffee table next to the armchair.

Diehl felt that Dad had aged a lot since the stroke. He had been able to walk Brinley down the aisle on her wedding day a few years before, but would he be around to watch Brinley’s child grow up and go to school?

“I worked hard all my life to get to a comfortable retirement, and then when I finally got there, a stroke happened and derailed my ability to enjoy life,” Dad said. “I want to retire in peace, but I feel like I’m retiring in pieces.”

Diehl sensed this was going to be more than a chat.

“If I could do it all over again, I would have tried to enjoy life in my forties and fifties.” Dad pointed a finger at Diehl. “I’m telling you, Son. You’re forty now. Blink and you’ll be sixty-five, wondering where all those dreams went.”

Diehl nodded.

“What do you want to do, Son?” Dad pointed to his own chest. “Deep inside your heart, what do you really want?”

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