Page 124 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
“It is possible.” Winter sighed. “But unlikely. The timing is such that Rebel and I were having a good patch, so I believe it is unlikely, no matter what Chase says.”
“But I looked like him.”
“You also look like our grandfather. And don’t forget the nose.” Winter lightly thumped his nose. Zero jerked his head back and sneezed reflexively. “We can do a genetic test if you want a definitive answer.”
“No. I don’t know. I don’t want to slut-shame my mom. People say mean things about her. She had a hard life. Her entire family died, and she had to marry a stranger to escape war.”
“I know. She was sad for a long time,” Winter said. The back of his hand brushed against Zero’s face before returning to stroke Zero’s ear. “We named you after her brother. He was my friend, my only friend, and we missed him very much. And Rebel put all that in her music.”
Mari was amazed at how easily Winter opened up for Zero, and a touch envious, if she was being honest. She fought tooth and nail to get Winter to discuss anything, anything at all about his late wife. She doubted herself, her place in his life, while she labored under the false impression that he loved her too much to even speak of her.
She understood him better now, after having struggled to open the pickle jar that contained Winter Cayne’s emotions. The jar needed a good whack on the counter, but she loosened it enough so it opened easily for Zero.
Okay, maybe the pickle jar wasn’t the best metaphor, but she was working with what she had.
“Do we have…did you keep her piano?” Zero asked.
Winter sat silent for a moment. “Everything,” he eventually said. “It’s all still upstairs in her music room.”
“In the attic.”
“Yes.”
In a scant few heartbeats, Winter unlocked the attic door. The hinges groaned as he pushed the door open. Dust and stale air assaulted her nose.
Windows lined the east wall, covered with heavy curtains, and skylights gave the space an open feel. The yellow paint had a mellow glow in the morning light. Instruments, mostly stringed, hung along one wall. A bank of computer equipment sat in at the far end. Tucked near the windows, a worn sofa and comfortable chairs clustered around a low table. Loose papers were scattered across the table and floor. A teacup sat empty. The room looked as if Rebel had just stepped away for a moment.
Zero went to the center of the room, to the piano hidden under a dust cloth. He pulled the cloth away, kicking up a plume of dust. Mari coughed, and Zero sneezed before sitting down on the bench. He tapped the keys, producing a distorted sound. He grimaced.
“It requires tuning,” he said.
“It will be done,” Winter replied. He opened a cabinet and retrieved cleaning supplies. With a dust rag in one hand, he crouched down to wipe away the dust from sensors on the cleaning bot sitting idle. “I should not have neglected this. That was foolish of me.”
Without saying a word, Marigold picked up the papers from the floor.
Winter seemed startled when she grabbed a bottle of furniture polish from the cabinet. If he thought she was going to leave him alone to beat himself up because of how he handled a stressful situation when he was grieving and, oh, just barely survived a horrific vehicle accident, he was wrong.
“What? We’re a family, yeah? We do this together,” she said.
He nodded. “Together.”
Epilogue
Marigold
Former CayneTech executive to be sentenced in murder-for-hire scheme. In a plea bargain deal, his accomplice, Tomas DeWitt, painted a grim picture of a male obsessed with his deceased lover...
-Corra News Network
Summer
Zero collapsedon the blanket next to Marigold. Sprawled on his back, he draped one arm over his face to hide his eyes. Seated on her other side, Valerian reached across and handed Zero a bottle of cold water. Lazy in only the way teenagers can be, he remained prone as he opened the bottle, dumping more water onto his face and chest than went into his mouth.
“Running is terrible,” he announced, wet from his last race and the accident with water. “Why did you tell me it was fun? This is not fun. This is gross and sweaty.”
“You did well. Your aura is glowing from the exercise,” Valerian said.
“Like a healthy glow or a radioactive glow?”
