Blue Eyed Dreamboat | R. Grayson

[32]

Ashton did not bother knocking upon his sister's bedroom door as he let himself in out of habit. He had been in the shop area earlier but thought of checking up on her. Norah was out and as they hadn't been getting any customers, he was getting bored by himself.

But as soon as he stepped into her room, he saw Irene had hidden something quickly under her pillow.

"What was that?" He asked, pointing to her pillow.

She shrugged, shaking her head as if to say that it was nothing important.

"Did Richard leave you a letter or something?" He teased, sitting on the bed across from her.

Her cheeks shaded red immediately and she hit him with a pillow as if to rebuke him. But that only earned a light laugh from Ashton as he took the pillow and placed it underneath his head, turning over so that he could still see her.

"No, I had gone to the attic," she told him, deciding that it wouldn't cause any trouble if she showed the script to him, "and I found Dad's last manuscript."

"You went to the attic? By yourself?" Ashton looked concerned because he knew the last time she had been there ended up in a panic attack.

"No, I... I took Richard with me."

He paused, assessing her expression before signing, "so now Richard is your top pick for a partner in crime? I must say, I feel left out."

She hit his shoulder lightly as she shook her head, "very funny."

"So what did you find?" His eyes trailed to the script so she took it out, showing him the worn-out pages.

"It's probably the last book Dad was writing," she explained, carefully turning over the worn-out pages, "I found it in a cabinet under the typewriter desk."

"But that cabinet was locked."

She grimaced, "yeah, well... I got Richard to unlock it. But I've put everything back just the way it was. Except this script."

Ashton shook his head as if disappointed but didn't give her a lecture for that. Instead, he touched the script carefully, not wanting to damage it as he took in his father's handwriting.

He had only seen Harris Cooper in some rare photographs that their mother kept with her. He had no remembrance of the man because he was too young when he died.

All he knew about Harris was through Norah and Irene's memories. Sometimes, he found himself wondering what had his father been like.

Seeing the handwriting and the words written by the man he wished to have known in person stirred his heart. 

"Do you think Dad would have wanted to publish this?" He asked softly, looking up at his sister who seemed to be thinking the same.

"Maybe. Mom said he used to write a lot in his last days and stayed in the attic for hours... Perhaps he wanted to finish this story but never could."

True enough, the manuscript was incomplete. On the last used page was a paragraph half cut and the rest of the pages were blank.

"I was thinking... What if I finish Dad's story?" Irene whispered, her green eyes sparkling with the idea she had just had.

Ashton knew Irene had a talent for storytelling and she had written several stories herself that she kept hidden in a box under her bed. But she had never before published anything because she was very protective of her work and didn't feel ready to face harsh criticism.

But at that moment, he could see that she was quite eager about it, "are you sure? Dad was a crime fiction writer. You only ever read romance."

"Hey!" She nudged him, watching a smile break out on his face.

"And you never publish anything. It will just end up in that box under your bed."

"I will try my best," she sighed softly, carefully closing the pile of papers and putting it in her drawer, "I will read the story first and see if I get any ideas."

"I wish you all the best," he smiled reassuringly, "and if you ever need someone to give you ideas, I'm always here."

"I know," she pinched his cheek affectionately, "none of my stories could have been completed without my very loyal listener."

Ashton's smile widened as he remarked, "true. I love listening to your stories and I really think you should publish them."

She shook her head, "no, not now. But I will work hard on Dad's script and maybe this will end up being my first published work."

"Maybe."

As Ashton didn't have anything else to do, he stayed with her while she told him about all that she had read in that story so far. She had read the first five chapters and a murder had occurred already with a very detailed description.

Irene also told him that she already had three suspects aligned in her head according to how the story was progressing.

The two siblings discussed the story until it was time for Norah to come back home. So Irene left her room to go to the kitchen and prepare something for dinner. 

Their mother had gotten late from her part-time job and she would be tired so Irene wanted to help her out by having the dinner ready before she reached.

As she had left, Ashton opened the drawer again, his eyes lingering on the handwriting.

For some reason, that script seemed to be written in extreme haste, judging by the slanting words and the frequent cuttings. He had not seen any of his father's manuscripts before that one so he wasn't sure whether Harris used to write in that way usually.

But then something clicked in his head.

His father used the typewriter to write all his stories. Then why was that manuscript handwritten?

Something just didn't feel right about that script but Ashton couldn't quite understand what it could be.

"Ash, come here."

Irene's voice reached him so he closed the drawer and went to the kitchen. She was searching easy-to-make dinner recipes and wanted his opinion. 

So he put aside the uneasy feeling about that script and browsed the collection of videos with her to select what they would make for dinner.

***