I Always Will

Ghost

Riley

Watching two del Marco's spar is a thing of great entertainment. I carry another half empty bottle of wine to the show as I shuffle out onto the patio with my walker and ease down into a plush chair.

Row stops her yelling to watch me. "Are you okay, baby? Do you need some ice?"

We've taken to icing my back after long guitar sessions. It helps as well as anything. Well, except booze.

I drink from the wine bottle. "No, no, I'm good. Carry on..."

She looks like a savage as she nods fiercely at me and rounds on her father. Apparently she starts from the top. "You know what, Dad. You've really got some kind of god complex or something. I know your cougar fangirls think the way you act—like you own the world—is all hot and amazing, but news flash—you don't actually own the world! What the hell is wrong in your brain that you think it's okay to walk into our house, then walk into our bedroom like that? Explain yourself."

He rolls his eyes at her. Matt is not used to be harangued by a female. By any female. Marianne doesn't nag Matt or bicker with him. She doesn't have to. She's the kind of woman does what she pleases, hires done what she doesn't want to do, and only thinks its fair to ask the same of her man. Apparently she "fights" by putting him out of the house until he what he wants is her, more than whatever it is they may be disagreeing about.

She pulls her robe tighter around her and crosses her arms. "I'm serious. Explain yourself."

He rubs his face with flat hands. "What was I thinking? I was thinking you were going to burn the house down with those damn candles. I was thinking the bedrooms were on the other side of the house and you had a studio down there. I was thinking you were practicing with a voice track, because who the hell knew he could sing?" Then he turns his attention to me. "And I was thinking you were an invalid that needed my daughter's care to move around."

"Oh, I've got plenty of moves back now, thanks to Row's tender loving care," I tip the bottle of wine at him.

Matt looks disgusted and Row looks a little scandalized, but her disapproving looks turns to a smile as I wink at her. "You do, but...behave. I'm trying to punish him," she points a finger at her father.

"Darling, you don't have to scold him as punishment. I think natural consequences have taught him a lesson," I grin at him, drinking more wine.

Row is on board with my teasing now. She looks at him speculatively. "You might be right. I'm surprised he's not blind at this moment. How many fingers am I holding up?" She gives him the middle finger.

Matt is flashing between naughty dog and wolf in full attack as he stares between us.

"I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" Row yells. "That was completely embarrassing and mortifying and—"

"Don't forget incredibly frustrating—" I add helpfully.

She puts a hand to her face and flaps a hand to me, giving me a mildly scolding side eye. "Shut up, Riley."

"Yes, Mistress—"

"Okay, I'm glad you two are having so much fun with this—" Matt says grimly. He pulls something from his jacket and I hear foil tearing. He paces and chews. I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard. Nicotine in the form of gum is the only substance coping mechanism left to him.

"What do you want, Dad?" Row sighs.

"I want to know what the hell, Row. Why you don't return our texts, our calls. I came to make sure you're okay. Is that what you've been doing these past few weeks? Drinking and messing around with music?"