Iris Blobel: Tuesday Tales - ADDRESS ~ Where #Authors #Write to a #Prompt

Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...
I continue with my story about Connor and his dad Jack, who's ill with cancer. Connor lives in London and is visiting his father who lives in a small town along the Victorian coast.

Today's prompt is: ADDRESS
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It took Emily a second to redirect her mind back to the current situation.

"No, not at all. My last patient took forever to take his medication, so I'm running behind time a little bit," she lied. "Did you find the address all right?”

He laughed. "This is Fermosa Bay. It takes some effort to get lost here"

"Excuse me, Mr Hot Shot."

Shaking his head, Connor placed the meat on the bench. “Yes, I found your place all right. Jack made sure of it.”

She waited for him to turn and look at her, when she asked, “Am I intruding too much if I’d ask about your conversation with him?”

Connor lifted a shoulder in a light shrug. “Nah, but how about we get some food on the table first. I’m starving.”

Not really sure how to take his reply, whether he was indeed only postponing the subject or hoping for her to forget about it after dinner, she simply nodded. Within minutes he was busy cooking the meat on the barbeque, and she prepared a tossed salad, as well as some bread and cheese. When they both sat down for their meal, she opened a bottle of red wine as they sat on her small balcony.

“Have you always lived here?” he asked.

She arched a brow. “Seriously? Why would I leave?”

He shrugged. “Studies, a man, job… hell I don’t know.”

It’d been something she’d never considered. Leaving Fermosa Bay would be the last thing on her mind. Not even for a man.

She shook her head. “No. I’ve always lived here and probably, or at least hopefully will always live here.”

They ate in silence for a long moment before she spoke. “Tell me about your life in London. You’re a lawyer. No Mrs Connor. Any ex-Mrs Connor?”

He chuckled. “Nope, no ex either.”

“I always thought lawyers are chatty people. You must’ve missed that lesson.”

His mouth curled in a smile.

“How about what made you choose to be a lawyer?”

“Dad’s got a firm. In a way it was expected of me.”

Emily paused, her fork half way to her mouth, and stared at him. Something within her stirred, but she wasn’t able to pinpoint it to something. Surprise? Pity? Or was it the tone in which he’d delivered his last answer?

“Are you serious?”

Their gazes met and he returned her stare with raised eyebrows. “Okay, which part of my answer doesn’t sit well with you?”

She placed the fork on the plate, leaned forward with her elbows on the table and arms crossed. “Well, I have to admit, you calling someone else dad sounds vaguely weird, but it was expected of you? Connor, this is the twenty-first century, you cannot expect your children—”

“London is not Fermosa Bay, Emily.”

“I get that, but—“

He sipped on his wine, but never breaking their eye contact. Was that his way of telling her to let it go? Telling her the subject was taboo? The excitement of a dinner with Connor all of a sudden abated and anger mixed with sadness built up in her.

“It wasn’t the perfect upbringing,” he suddenly said.

She blinked a couple of times trying hard to not get teary.

With a shrug, he added, “But it is what it is and I cannot change it.”

Not sure how to respond, she stayed quiet.

He placed his knife and fork on the plate and pushed it away. “I’ve been wondering for the last couple of days how life would’ve been if mum and I hadn’t left. But I cannot complain. I got a good education, a great job, some good friends, and a neat little house outside London.” He looked up at her. “Life’s not always wrapped up in some fancy, colourful wrapping paper, but it’s still a gift worth treasuring.”

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