Her mother’s eyes bounce between her and I for a moment before she wraps her arms around Violet.
It’s a flurry of activity for a minute while details are recounted. Violet’s parents plan to visit with him briefly and discuss picking up Cody.
Violet’s father’s eyes are on me. And he wants to know who the fuck I am and what I want with his daughter. The man is average height and husky with salt and pepper hair and mostly salt in his full beard. He eyes me with an expression that tells me he’s protective, that he’s gonna scrutinize me for being near his daughter, and that he’d happily fuck me up if he felt like it was deserved. And I’m sure he feels that way even further because of the loser his daughter has been with for the past three years.
Violet takes after her mother, an attractive lady that looks to be in her early fifties, maybe, holding her age well. She has the same hair as Violet, though hers barely grazes her collarbone and Violet’s is halfway down her back.
Violet turns to me and I rise.
“Killian Coulter,” I say, reaching out to shake her father’s hand.
“Kevin Gates.” He shakes my hand. “My wife Daphne.”
Violet’s mother stops ranting under her breath to Violet about her father being stubborn and how something like this is what it had to take to slow him down. She hugs me with a big smile spreading across her face. “Great to meet you, Killian.”
Violet looks away, looking embarrassed at her mother’s enthusiasm.
“It’s so great to meet you, Killian,” she repeats, injecting it with a lot of warmth. She looks at Violet and gives her a wide smile. She thinks I’m Ray’s replacement. And Daphne Gates is ecstatic about that.
“There’s the nurse taking care of Grampa. Let’s go see if you can get in to see him,” Violet says and tugs on her father’s hand.
I sit back down.
Violet’s mother hugs the returning uncle, who was introduced to me as Hugh. After hugging her, he moves to sit in a chair directly across from me, eyes on me with a serious expression. I meet him in the eye and jerk my chin, inviting him to say what’s on his mind.
This guy looks like a bruiser who gives no fucks. Fifty-something, bald, wearing construction boots. The guy has homemade tattoos on all his knuckles. The serious gaze transforms to a smirk.
“Nobody liked her last fella. Real dickhead. You might have your work cut out. Or it might be a breeze, maybe. Everyone’ll be relieved to see him gone so you might have it easy.”
“I’m prepared to work for it,” I say automatically and with zero fucks, because it’s pretty clear to me what’s happening with me. And I find that I’m fine with it. More than fine.
“Make sure you don’t stop her from bein’ around her family and that’ll be a good start. Hold down a regular job, let her live her life and have some fun, too. That girl used to be full of smiles. That guy dragged her down. I’d love to kick his teeth in.”
I give him a chin jerk.
“What do you do?” Hugh asks. “Got a job?”
I nod. “Yeah. You hear of Genesis over on—”
“The off-track sports bar?”
“Yeah.”
“I know it. You work there?”
”It’s mine. I have a few other places, too.”
He looks impressed. “At your age? You a trust fund kid?”
“No, Sir. School of Hard Knocks. Extra hard.”
He smiles big. “How’d you meet Violet?” he asks.
“Through the dickhead,” I say under my breath.
He scoffs.
“My thoughts exactly,” I say. “One look at that situation and I decided to relieve him of his duties.”
Hugh straightens up and he’s about to say something when Violet comes back. Without her folks.
“I like him, Violet. Way better than the last one. You got the Uncle Huey seal of approval.” The man leans forward and holds his fist out. I bump it with mine.
Violet trips over her own feet and I manage to catch her, so she tumbles onto my lap.
I smile. “You all right there?”
She stares at me with what looks like shock for a minute while in my lap before she bites her lip and then she carefully stands back up.
“My klutzy little niece,” Hugh says. “Always trippin’ over her tiny feet.”
Violet snickers and nervously pushes her hair away from her face. “It’s part of my charm,” she retorts.
“Sure is,” he agrees.
“Uncle Huey-dewie-louie, you’re ridiculous.” She rolls her eyes. “We can go now, Killian; Grampa needs some rest.”
Violet’s mother is suddenly coming toward us. “Wait, you two.”
We stop.
“Will you two come over for dinner tomorrow? The whole family is getting together for pasta at Grampa’s house. He says he wants his Christmas tree put up. I know it’s not even Halloween, but it’s what he wants. Italian food, trim the Christmas tree, and spend the day with him.”