Page 63 of Royal
I was about to turn and walk away before he could spot me, when an older woman patted me on the arm.
“Well if it isn’t Royal Henderson,” she said, smiling at me. “My daughter watches the news every evenin’ because of you. She’s single, you know, and not bad on the eyes.”
Trying to be polite, I returned her smile. “Thanks, ma’am, but I’m seeing someone.” Technically, it was true. Grayson and I were just…complicated. “I’m glad your daughter watches the news, though. Being informed is important.”
I wasn’t celebrity status, but I still got stopped in stores, restaurants, and other places around town. Mostly by older people who liked to chat about current events. Some liked to complain about certain things discussed on the program, especially if they felt my co-anchor or I were favoring one political party over another.
The lady went on her way, but our conversation had drawn the attention of my old man.
His narrowed blue eyes and slanted mouth said more than words ever could. “Royal.” His voice was formal, without any kind of emotion. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Yeah. Because why would I ever be in a grocery store? I had to force myself not to roll my eyes.
“Jack,” I responded with a nod. I no longer called him Dad, which was fine, because he didn’t like for me to. Or, at least that’s what he told me the last time I referred to him as such.
Then I saw the younger woman standing beside him. She was probably my age and had long blonde hair, obviously fake boobs that Jack probably paid for, and red lipstick on her plump lips. Lip injections, too, I supposed. She must’ve been the chick Mom had told me about. The big diamond on her finger proved my assumption correct: they were engaged.
“A shame about your co-anchor,” Jack said. He swiped his fingers through his dark hair before placing a hand at Blondie’s lower back. He didn’t bother to introduce her.
“It is,” I agreed. Beth had been a bitch, but I never wished death on her.
“Scary to think that could’ve been you,” he continued, and he pinned me with an almost worried look. “If the guy had his eyes on her from watching the news, sure enough, he saw you, too.”
“Why do you care?” I snapped before reining back my anger.
“Don’t be like that. We might not have the relationship we used to, but you’re still my son.”
That was news to me. He’d told me more times than I could possibly count that I was no son of his.
“I have to get going,” I said, taking hold of my cart. “Have a good day.”
As I walked away from them, I couldn’t help but feel both confused and slightly pissed. The times I’d run into him in past years, he’d given me a shorthellobefore going on his way. But it’d seemed like he was actually trying today.
Either he was genuinely concerned for me…or he’d only been trying to look good in front of the chick on his arm. Playing the role of concerned father to impress her or some shit, and thus making me look like the bad guy for storming off.
I grabbed more groceries than usual, since Brysen was going to be staying with me for a few days. I’d talked to him early that morning. He was behind on paying the bills, and his electricity had been shut off. I offered to pay to get it turned back on, but he’d declined.
I knew he was embarrassed, so I hadn’t made a big deal about it.
Since Kyler wasn’t living with him anymore, the amount of money coming in had been cut in half. Plus, Brysen wasn’t good with deadlines and would often pay the bills late, racking up fees on top of what he already owed. Just a big mess.
I didn’t mind him staying with me. My house was big enough.
After buying two weeks’ worth of groceries that I was sure would be eaten in only one, I loaded all the bags into the back of my SUV and drove home. Brysen’s car was in the driveway when I got there. I parked inside the garage before grabbing as many bags as I could and going into the house.
Brysen met me in the kitchen and helped me unload everything.
“Thanks for letting me stay with you,” he said, not sounding like his normal, bubbly self. “I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon. I’ll work more shifts at the bar for some extra cash, so I can get the damn bills paid.”
“Hey.” I bumped his arm with my fist. “Stop. You’re not a bother. It’ll actually be nice to have someone else around the house. Stay as long as you want.”
I didn’t tell him it was because I was somewhat of a chicken shit lately.
His hazel eyes gleamed with a smile, and the bounce in his step returned as he finished unloading the groceries.
“The festival is this weekend,” Brysen said, crawling up to sit on the bar stool. It was a little high off the ground, and it was amusing to see him struggle to get on top of it. Even funnier that his feet didn’t touch the floor. “Do you want to go?”
“Eh. Maybe.” I grabbed a soda from the fridge. As tempting as it was to add some rum to it, I decided against it since I had to be at work in a few hours. “The band you like is going, right?”
