Chapter 48
Oscar still sings in the shower—Rod Stewart, “Maggie May.” For as much as I’ve hated him, I will always love him a hundred times more.
The first time I heard a Rod Stewart song was Oscar singing this exact song in the shower.
By the time I heard Rod’s voice on an album, I already knew all the words to most of his songs, thanks to Oscar Stone’s shower performances.
“You’ve still got it.” I grin when he struts out of the bathroom, buttoning the last button to his crisp, white dress shirt. I hand him a cup of tea.
“Thanks.” He grins his cocky grin because no one has to tell him he still has it. “So what’s on our agenda for today?”
“Our agenda?” I eye him over my steamy cup of tea.
“What is this?” He wrinkles his nose.
“Herbal peppermint.”
“Herbal? Really, Ruby?”
I shrug. “Caffeine is not on my anti-cancer diet.” My anti-cancer diet is nothing more than nutritional theories from a handful of holistic experts—ideas that appeal to my common sense and have no negative effects on my overall health.
“I’m terrified to think of what else you’ve banned from your life.” He puts the cup on the worktop then looks in the fridge with an even bigger scowl on his face. “You didn’t answer me. What’s on our agenda today?”
“I answered you by suggesting there is no our agenda. I have to work and you …” I purse my lips for a few seconds. “I’d say your agenda will simply be to stay out of trouble and inside the confines of the law.”
He slips on his black beanie, positioning it just right. “That’s not so easy when I haven’t swotted up on American laws.”
“They’re quite simple. Don’t steal anything or kill anyone, and if you drive today, remember to stay right.”
“That’s so wrong.”
I nod with a grin. “It really is, but … their country, their rules.”
“Your country too.”
“Yes, and I’m trying to fit in, but the southern accent is dreadfully painful to master. I can’t make the y’all sound quite right.”
Oscar laughs. “Don’t.” He shakes his head.
My nose wrinkles. “It’s bloody awful, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Don’t change a thing. You’re absolutely perfect.” He gives a resolute nod.
“Thanks. I have to go.”
“It’s raining.”
“I have an anorak and a change of clothes in a carrier bag.”
“Scarlet.” He frowns. “You are not riding that mangled, rusty excuse for a bike in the rain.”
“It’s only a thirty-minute ride.”
“Here. He pulls a wad of money from his pocket. “Call a taxi.”
“There’s enough here to buy a small car.”
He shrugs. “So, do that.”
“No. I’ve got this.” I put the money on the worktop next to him.
“Don’t be stubborn.”
“Hmm … wonder where I would have learned that?”
“Scarlet.”
I sigh and turn, skimming several notes off the top. “Just taxi fare.”
“We’ll share one. I do have a few places to go.”
“To get a bed?” I ask while calling a taxi.
“Yes. You shoved me onto the floor last night.”
“It’s not really a mattress for two.” Unless it’s Theo and me on top of each other. God … will my mind ever stop going to him? The taxi company answers, and I make my request.
*
“This is your job?” Oscar asks as the taxi pulls up to the Moores’.
“Yes. I assist Mrs. Moore while her husband fucks about.”
The taxi driver shifts his gaze to me in the rearview mirror. Sure, this one understands my English perfectly.
“Sorry?” Oscar squints at me.
“It’s complicated. Their son, Nolan, owns the house on Tybee Island that I stayed at with Theo.”
“Theo?”
I glance up after grabbing my umbrella off the floor between us. “Uh … yeah. Theo is the man.”
“The bloke that left you.”
I sigh. “Something like that.”
He gazes back out the window. Then he hands the driver some money. “Thank you. I’ll be getting out here too.”
“Wait!” I start to protest, but not before Oscar steps out of the taxi and runs around to open my door.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Hurry, Ruby, before we get soaked.” He grabs my hand and yanks me out of the taxi, practically dragging me to the door while my other hand fumbles with the umbrella. It finally opens up after we’re already on the porch.
I frown.
“It’s just a little water.”
“That was my point when I said I would ride my bike.”
He shakes his head. “That would have been a lot of water.”
“I had a change of clothes,” I grit through my teeth.
“Ms. Stone, good morning.”
Both of us turn to the door. Apparently our bickering served as our announcement.
“Hi, Sofia.” I smile and step inside. “I’d like you to meet my … er … dad.” I bite my tongue instead of sticking it out at him. He hates to be called anything but Oscar.
“Welcome, Mr. Stone.”
He leans in and kisses Sofia on each check. “You as well, Sofia. Call me Oscar, please.”
She nods. “Both Mr. Moore and Nolan left this morning for a quick trip. They’ll be back in a few days. Mrs. Moore is in the dining room. Can I get you both some breakfast? Coffee? Tea?”
“No we’re—”
“I’ll have a cup of coffee … with caffeine. Thank you, and anything you happen to have to eat would be lovely as well. Scarlet’s fridge is a bit … disappointing.”
I roll my eyes.
“Very well.” Sofia returns a smile and a polite nod.
“Behave.” I point my finger at him.
He shrugs. “What?”
We make our way to the dining room.
“Scarlet! Good morning.” Nellie smiles, wiping her mouth and imparting her orange-red lipstick to her white napkin. “It’s been a few days. Nolie said you were under the weather. I was worried it was AIDS since hearing of Liberace’s death last week.”
My eyes flit to Oscar, and I give him a slight head shake. His last minute decision to job shadow me left no time to explain Nellie’s situation.
“I don’t have AIDS. I was spending time with Theo before he left town.” Since Nolan and Harold left town, I see no reason to lie to Nellie. “I’d like you to meet Oscar Stone, my dad.”
Nellie looks past me like she hadn’t noticed him. She perks up and nearly stumbles, scrambling to her feet. “Oh my … well, welcome, Mr. Stone.”
And there it is, the predictable head-turning that happens in the presence of Oscar. Although, I didn’t expect it from Nellie. She’s blushing and … flirting.
“Oscar. Please. So lovely to meet you, Mrs. Moore. Scarlet has told me wonderful things about you.”
I did?
She giggles. “Call me Nellie, honey.”
Honey?
Oscar leans in, depositing a soft kiss on both of her cheeks, lingering a bit longer than he did with Sofia. Nellie grabs the side of the table to steady herself, causing her teacup to rattle against its saucer.
My name is Scarlet Stone, and I was raised by a womanizer.
I’d say he’s putting on a show because Oscar Stone is a showman—a con artist—a thief. But that’s not what I sense right now. He genuinely is taken with her—bedhead, gaudy lipstick, and all.
I shouldn’t be surprised. He sees past the surface of people just like I do, and Nellie is truly beautiful. But the woman asked about Liberace and AIDS. Oscar used to prefer his woman sane and unmarried, or so I thought.
“Nellie, would you like me to do your hair and makeup this morning?”
She flutters her eyelashes at Oscar while he continues to hold her hand that’s not gripping the table cloth.
“Nellie!”
She startles. Oscar releases her hand. I smile like I didn’t just yell to get her attention.
“Did you hear me?”
“Uh … oh …” Her hand smooths over her messy hair. “Yes … I think I would like that very much. Maybe I’ll go …” She points toward the stairs. “Maybe, I’ll take a shower first or a bath. Shave my legs and whatever needs shaving.”
Oh dear God. Oscar wiggles his brows at her. “If you need any help—”
“Then I’ll help you.” I grit my teeth, glaring at him for a second before smiling at Nellie.
“I’ll let you both … or you, Scarlet, know if I need anything.”
“Just give us a shout.” Oscar winks as she nearly runs into the wall on her way to the stairs.
“Bloody hell!” I snatch his beanie from his head and throw it on the ground, stomping on it with each word. “What. Are. You. Doing?”
He picks it up and dusts it off. “Was that really necessary?”
“She’s my boss. She’s my boss’s mum. She’s married and …”
“And?”
“She’s had something traumatic happen to her and that’s why she’s …”
“Completely delightful? Not to mention absolutely stunning. Have you looked at her eyes?”
“Have you looked at the ten carat diamond on her left ring finger?”
“You want me to steal her diamond?” He smirks.
“Breakfast?”
We both turn toward Sofia’s voice.
“Now that smells wonderful.” Oscar takes a seat at the head of the table like the king he thinks he is and tucks the napkin into his shirt as he smiles and nods at Sofia.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything, Miss. Stone?”
“No. Thank you.”
“See what you’re missing out on all in the name of—”
“Living?” I quirk an eyebrow and plop down in the chair next to him as he moans around a bite of greasy bacon.
“Don’t you miss it?” He closes his eyes and moans some more as he chews slowly, savoring every bit of flavor.
“Bacon? Crisps? Cheese board? Yes, I miss it. But herbal tea, large green salads, and carrot juice are fair trade-offs for this little thing called life.”
“You’re probably right. Now … tell me about Theo.”
“I thought we were going to wait to talk about this.”
“We did. I said another day and you agreed. That was yesterday. Today is ‘another day.’”
I rest my elbow on the table, propping my chin up on one hand while drumming my fingers with the other hand. “I think he’s killed someone or someones, or I think he’s going to.”
Oscar stops mid-chew and lifts the napkin from his chest to wipe his mouth as he swallows. “And this is the bloke you left Daniel for?”
“He’s a brilliant carpenter. He’s a talented guitarist with a voice that’s so addictive. And he swims with the sharks.”
Oscar smirks. “Daniel is a brilliant photographer who has been within feet of lions in the African safari, and he’s captured video in the middle of war zones. He has impeccable taste in clothing and wine and—”
“And every moment we spent together was recorded in photos or videos. All of our holidays were spent getting the best shot. He experiences life through a lens, and I know sometimes he sees things through that lens that most of us will never get the opportunity to see, but if I’m honest, it always felt like there were three in our relationship: me, Daniel, and his camera.
I desperately wanted to share a sunset or ocean view with him and not think about capturing the moment. I just wanted to live in that moment.”
“And this Theo lives in the moment?”
“Well, I’ve never seen him take a picture of anything.
I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not just Theo, it’s who I am with him.
He’s so unpredictable, and grumpy, and he has this angry passion that consumes me.
I’m fascinated by everything he does no matter how mundane it is, but never have I wanted to snap a photo of him.
I just like immersing myself in every moment with him. ”
Oscar sips his coffee then shakes his head.
“It’s new love. Exciting and passionate.
It’s where everything about the other person is perfection, even their flaws.
” He sighs and stares off into the distance.
“It’s all-consuming, where you live on sex because your bodies can’t get enough of each other, where you need each other so much you feel like you want to crawl inside of the other person. It’s the most insatiable craving.”
This conversation has veered off its intended path. I can’t have a sex conversation with my dad, even if everything he says is spot-on.
I clear my throat and squirm a bit in my chair. “Is that what you had with Mum?”
Pain pulls at his brow as he nods slowly.
“And no matter what, the newness wears off even if the love remains. However, you know you’re with the right person when what brings you out of your dark days is that spark of passion you once had.
It doesn’t have to be a grand display of fireworks, just a spark. That tiny bit of life.”
On a long sigh, I drum my fingers on the table some more. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think he’s coming back. My spark—that tiny bit of life—will be nothing more than an illusion, a ghost for me to chase after for the rest of my life.”
His roar of laughter fills the room. “Oh, Ruby … I don’t even recognize the woman before me. You could track down an ant buried in a crack of the earth in the middle of a third-world country. If this bloke is your spark, then stop tripping over your bottom lip and go find the bastard.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have a computer.”
He tosses a wad of money on the table.
I shake my head. “I don’t want that life anymore.”
“For fuck’s sake, Ruby! You can’t do this.”
Staring at the money, I blink over and over. It’s not so simple.
“It’s the cancer,” he says in a more somber tone.
“Yes.”
I expect an argument. Instead, he gathers the money and slips it back into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You’re smart—always have been. No man is worth your life. You have to choose yourself this time. It’s not selfish, it’s imperative. Maybe you can find yourself a suitable southern gent, buy a mansion, and give me a load of grandkids to corrupt.”
I want to laugh. There’s nothing more endearing than the playful side of Oscar. “I can’t have children.”
He studies me. “Oh? The cancer?”
I shake my head. “I had or have endometriosis. I think they referenced ‘winning the lottery’ when referring to my chances of ever getting pregnant.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Now, I laugh. “Daniel didn’t want kids anyway, and I don’t enjoy discussing my feminine issues with my dad.”
“Oscar.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not ‘my Oscar,’ you’re my dad. I don’t call you ‘Dad,’ but when making a reference to you, you are, in fact, my dad!”
“Calm down, Ruby.” He grins, sinking his teeth into another piece of bacon.
“I’m Scarlet, not Ruby.” I cross my arms over my chest. It’s pathetic. How does he reduce me to a twelve-year-old girl every time?
He continues to smirk at me.
“My real name is not Scarlet, is it?”
My dad has had many aliases. I’ve always wondered if Scarlet Stone was what my mum and Oscar named me when I was born. It’s the name on my birth certificate, but it might not be my original birth certificate.
“I don’t even care.” It’s the truth. “I’m going to check on Nellie.” I stand. “Don’t steal anything.”