His eyes glistened, and he reached across the table
to squeeze Nora’s hand. “I’m not ready to lose her, baby girl.”
Nora choked up. “Me, neither, daddy.”
CHAPTER TEN
Kingston didn’t have
time to dwell on the barista too much that week; when he got home
from work on Tuesday, he tripped over a pair of beige leather
pumps. He glanced at the shoes, confused for a moment, and then he
looked up.
“Mom,” he said, swallowing nervously. “And
Sir. What are you both doing here?”
His mother crossed the small space to kiss
him on each cheek. “We wanted to surprise you.”
“It’s certainly a surprise,” Kingston
admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “How’d you get in?”
“Oh, your doorman was ever so kind once he
learned we were your folks.”
Kingston smiled. His mother could charm a
snake right out of its skin, and he had no doubt that the poor
doorman hadn’t stood a chance. “I wish you’d have let me know you
were coming; I’d have tidied the place up a bit.”
“Yes, this place,” his father said, moving
into the kitchenette with a frown. “Beautiful location. How much
are you paying in rent each month, son?”
“The bank supplied the apartment.” The lie
slipped out before he could think, and Kingston held his breath,
hoping his face didn’t give him away.
“Humph,” his father answered. “I should hope
so. Didn’t think I raised my boy to be frivolous or wasteful.”
Kingston shook his head hurriedly. “No, sir.”
He glanced at the refrigerator. “I don’t have much to offer—“
“Let’s go out, then,” his mother said,
looping her arm through his as she slipped on her shoes. “Take us
somewhere that’s part of the real New York.”
Kingston chuckled. “I haven’t been here long
enough to discover the ‘real New York’, but I’m sure we can figure
something out.”
Before he could open the door, his father
strode across the room and put his hand on the knob. “After you,
sweetheart,” he said, nodding to Kingston’s mother. As she slipped
into the hall, his dad put his hand on Kingston’s shoulder,
stopping him for a minute.
“You’re doing well for yourself, son. I’m
glad that bank realizes what you’re worth.”
He forced himself to nod. “They do, sir.”
“Good.” His dad nodded to the hall, and
Kingston followed his mom, his heart racing. Would his father still
be proud of him if he knew that Kingston spent every day in a
cubicle, not an office, or would he think he wasn’t working hard
enough somehow? Kingston shook his head, hoping that his parents
wouldn’t ask him too many questions about work. Even though the job had been a promotion, his father hadn’t been impressed when
Kingston had initially shared the news. Now that his parents were
in New York, he felt a childish desire to make believe his new life
was even better than he’d imagined, but he wasn’t sure how long he
could keep spinning stories to keep them satisfied.
Luckily, once they’d been seated in a dark
corner of the steak house near his apartment, Kingston realized
that his mom at least wasn’t interested in hearing him talk about
work. In true form, she was on his case within minutes about his
lack of a social life.
“How are you ever going to meet a nice girl
if all you do is work?” She lamented, picking daintily at her
salad.
Kingston sighed. He was tempted to tell her
about Carrie’s obvious interest in him, just to get her off his
case, but he knew from experience that if he mentioned a girl to
his mom, he’d better be ready to propose within weeks. “I don’t
just work, Mom. I’m still running.”
She sniffed. “You aren’t going to meet a nice
girl that way.”
“I’ve joined another midnight running club,”
he said, splitting his attention between both his parents. “It’s a
lot of fun.” Tearing off a piece of bread from the bread basket in
the center of the table, he added, “I’m training to run the half
marathon in the
to squeeze Nora’s hand. “I’m not ready to lose her, baby girl.”
Nora choked up. “Me, neither, daddy.”
CHAPTER TEN
Kingston didn’t have
time to dwell on the barista too much that week; when he got home
from work on Tuesday, he tripped over a pair of beige leather
pumps. He glanced at the shoes, confused for a moment, and then he
looked up.
“Mom,” he said, swallowing nervously. “And
Sir. What are you both doing here?”
His mother crossed the small space to kiss
him on each cheek. “We wanted to surprise you.”
“It’s certainly a surprise,” Kingston
admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “How’d you get in?”
“Oh, your doorman was ever so kind once he
learned we were your folks.”
Kingston smiled. His mother could charm a
snake right out of its skin, and he had no doubt that the poor
doorman hadn’t stood a chance. “I wish you’d have let me know you
were coming; I’d have tidied the place up a bit.”
“Yes, this place,” his father said, moving
into the kitchenette with a frown. “Beautiful location. How much
are you paying in rent each month, son?”
“The bank supplied the apartment.” The lie
slipped out before he could think, and Kingston held his breath,
hoping his face didn’t give him away.
“Humph,” his father answered. “I should hope
so. Didn’t think I raised my boy to be frivolous or wasteful.”
Kingston shook his head hurriedly. “No, sir.”
He glanced at the refrigerator. “I don’t have much to offer—“
“Let’s go out, then,” his mother said,
looping her arm through his as she slipped on her shoes. “Take us
somewhere that’s part of the real New York.”
Kingston chuckled. “I haven’t been here long
enough to discover the ‘real New York’, but I’m sure we can figure
something out.”
Before he could open the door, his father
strode across the room and put his hand on the knob. “After you,
sweetheart,” he said, nodding to Kingston’s mother. As she slipped
into the hall, his dad put his hand on Kingston’s shoulder,
stopping him for a minute.
“You’re doing well for yourself, son. I’m
glad that bank realizes what you’re worth.”
He forced himself to nod. “They do, sir.”
“Good.” His dad nodded to the hall, and
Kingston followed his mom, his heart racing. Would his father still
be proud of him if he knew that Kingston spent every day in a
cubicle, not an office, or would he think he wasn’t working hard
enough somehow? Kingston shook his head, hoping that his parents
wouldn’t ask him too many questions about work. Even though the job had been a promotion, his father hadn’t been impressed when
Kingston had initially shared the news. Now that his parents were
in New York, he felt a childish desire to make believe his new life
was even better than he’d imagined, but he wasn’t sure how long he
could keep spinning stories to keep them satisfied.
Luckily, once they’d been seated in a dark
corner of the steak house near his apartment, Kingston realized
that his mom at least wasn’t interested in hearing him talk about
work. In true form, she was on his case within minutes about his
lack of a social life.
“How are you ever going to meet a nice girl
if all you do is work?” She lamented, picking daintily at her
salad.
Kingston sighed. He was tempted to tell her
about Carrie’s obvious interest in him, just to get her off his
case, but he knew from experience that if he mentioned a girl to
his mom, he’d better be ready to propose within weeks. “I don’t
just work, Mom. I’m still running.”
She sniffed. “You aren’t going to meet a nice
girl that way.”
“I’ve joined another midnight running club,”
he said, splitting his attention between both his parents. “It’s a
lot of fun.” Tearing off a piece of bread from the bread basket in
the center of the table, he added, “I’m training to run the half
marathon in the
Similar Books
