“Finally playing the grandkid card?”
She smiled. “Yes. It’s time. Your father and I have been married thirty-five years and yet none of my boys has ever gotten married. Why is that?”
He couldn’t speak for his brothers. He’d been in love twice in his life, first with Maya and then with Hyacinth. Both relationships had ended badly. And the common denominator? Him.
His father strolled into the living room. Ceallach Mitchell was tall and broad-shouldered. Despite being weeks away from turning sixty, he was still strong, with the muscles required to wrestle large pieces of molten glass into submission. Del acknowledged his father’s genius—there was no denying brilliance. But he also knew it came at a price.
“Del’s home,” Elaine said, motioning to the sofa.
Ceallach stared at his son. For a second Del wondered if his father was trying to figure out which of his offspring he was.
“He came back for your birthday,” his mother added.
“Good to know. What are you doing these days? Surfing?”
Del thought about the board he’d created, the company he’d started, how much he’d sold it for and the impressive amount sitting in his bank account.
“Most days,” he said, dropping his hand to rub Sophie’s tummy. The beagle shifted onto her back and sighed.
“You seen Nick?” his father asked. “He’s still working in that bar, wasting his talent. No one can get through to him. I’m done trying.”
With that, Ceallach walked out of the room.
Del stared after him. “Good to see you, too, Dad.”
His mother pressed her lips together. “Don’t be like that,” she said. “You know how he gets. It’s just his way. He’s glad you’re back.”
Del was less sure about that, but didn’t want to start a fight. Nothing had changed. Ceallach only cared about his art and other people with the potential to create art, and Elaine still stood between him and the world, acting as both buffer and defender.
“What are you up to these days?” she asked. “I know you sold your company. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I’m still deciding what’s next. I’ve been offered some design work.”
“Are you going to take it?”
“No. I came up with my board on my own. I’m not a designer. There are a couple of venture capitalists who want to fund my next big idea.” Which would be great if he had one. What he most wanted to do— Well, that wasn’t going the way he’d hoped.
“You have time to decide what’s important.”
The right words, but again he had the sense she was hiding something. Not that he was going to ask again. Secrets were an ongoing part of life in the Mitchell family. He’d learned early to wait until they were shared.
“You could go to work for your brother,” she said.
“Aidan?” Del laughed. “At the family business? No thanks. And I doubt he’d appreciate you offering my help.”
“He’s busy all the time. Especially in summer.”