Author's note: "gajar halwa" is Indian carrot pudding and sooo good. "a leanbh" is Irish for "my child", but means so much more.

Dear Guest whose reviews sometimes go missing. That's strange, but I've noticed similar oddities on this site..perhaps wormholes to another dimension?;-) Certainly, it's not me. I've never deleted a comment. I think it was also you asked whether my writing reflects my personality? A good question, and difficult to answer. I guess there's a little of me in every chapter; case in point, I'm of Irish/English heritage but love Indian food;-) And, like Teddy, I'm trying to be a good person. But then I can imagine and write characters so horrible that it makes me feel ill to type the words; not sure where they come from...really hope it's not from me! Thank you, for the thought-provoking question, and good luck with the wormholes:-)

Dear Guest who has no interest in reading about Teddy. Skip this chapter. You're welcome.

Thanks again, to any and all who take the time to comment.

Chapter Twenty-one

As the GEH helicopter lands, Patrick can see only Teddy Grey waiting to greet him. He knows that Asha is here at the house, and of course the kid's parents, so this bold move can only be deliberate. And Shanti had bothered to send him a text yesterday—her first direct communication in nearly a year—that had simply said, "Asha calls him janu." It had torn at his heart, for very differing reasons; his little girl is growing up and she's fallen in love. And, for twenty-three years, his wife called him that.

Shrugging off the weight of the past before it overwhelms him, he exits the chopper and strides towards the young man, saying, "How the fuck did your father get permission for a helipad?"

Teddy's face registers surprise at the question, but he quickly recovers and points towards nearby Puget Sound, where signs of the rail line he'd just flown over are visible through the trees. "By proving that, this close to the water, the noise was no greater than a passing freight train. If that hadn't worked, he'd have probably bought out the dissenting neighbors. We're a long way from Sea Tac in even average traffic, and he's not a patient man."

"Evidently a genetic trait. Asha was single when she started her summer job, and now she tells me that you're building the house where you two will live?"

"Uh, yes, sir…finishing the house, anyway." Abruptly extending his hand, he says, "Welcome, sir. Asha's inside, cooking with my mother; Mom's thrilled to learn some new recipes. And Dad would have preferred to greet you in person, but I persuaded him to defer to me on this occasion."

Fuck it; the kid's earned a handshake, if only for being brave enough to meet Shanti on her home turf. He accepts the gesture and says, "You think I have questions." When this is met with only a stilted shrug and a grimace, he remembers the graphic nature of Teddy's injuries. "Let's see it."

Again he's managed to surprise the young man. It feels good. Teddy turns his head slightly and pulls his collar aside to show the ugly raised scars and mottled bruising. "Fuck me! Your father saw it happen?"

"Uh, not quite; not even I saw it coming. But he was onsite. He's probably still having nightmares about it."

"Trust me; he'll have nightmares about this forever." Remembering that Asha loves this young man, Patrick adds, "I'm glad you're okay."

And he's surprised him a third time; the kids eyebrows are going to tire soon. "Thank you, sir. So, do you have any questions for me?"

"No. I trust my daughter's judgment. But you must understand that, if it turns out that she's horribly mistaken about you, not even your father's billions will keep you safe from me."

The cheeky fucker grins—the balls on this kid!—and says, "Yes, sir."

Lunch had gone well, despite Asha's misgivings. Perhaps not very surprisingly, Chris and her father instantly understood each other, which made the whole thing much more pleasant than it might have been. Ana, of course, has been nothing but welcoming since Teddy's accident, and was just as gracious today. The biggest surprise was how much her father's appearance has altered since they last met; he's lost so much weight. They've kept in touch, online and by phone, but they've not actually seen each other since Christmas. Somehow understanding her unspoken need, the Greys have said their goodbyes and kindly orchestrated this alone time for father and daughter before Patrick has to leave.

It's awkward, at first. He never seemed to resent that, when asked, she chose to live with her mother. But she still feels guilty about that; he needs her too. Walking the beautiful grounds of the Grey estate, she finally asks, "How's Henna?" She'd reluctantly left her sorrel quarter horse behind, knowing that her study schedule wouldn't permit her to give him the care he needs. She misses him, though; misses riding.

"Good. I've not been down there for a while, but they tell me he's doing very well, and just as much of a glutton for carrots as he ever was."

She laughs, easily imagining the stable hand berating Henna for nipping fingers in his eagerness for the sweet snack. "Yeah. He would literally jump through hoops for a carrot."

"Well, I'd do the same for your mother's gajar halwa." This innocent statement brings up too many poignant memories—apparently for both of them—to permit speech for a while. Eventually, he says, "I'm sorry."

Asha shrugs and says, "It's okay, Dad. I don't mind you talking about stuff, but…you know, it'll be tough for a while yet."

His voice uncharacteristically gentle, he asks, "How is she?"

"Good, I guess. You know Mom; she doesn't complain. I think it's hard being this far from her Californian friends. But running the store keeps her busy, and helps her meet people. Did I thank you for that?"

Patrick Renard has had little practice at looking humble, but he manages it quite well this time and says, "No need. It's the least I could do. Your mother could have taken me to the cleaners, but she insisted on only enough to establish a home here."

More awkward silence and Asha thinks to say, "You look good, Dad…skinny, but healthy skinny, if you know what I mean."

He smiles and says, "Thanks, sweetheart. Yeah, I'm finally getting my ass to a gym on a regular basis. I was complaining to a friend—oh, you know Steve; the cardiac surgeon—that, at forty-five, I have to accept the fact that I'm middle-aged, and he said, 'Only if you drastically change your lifestyle; you're actually on the slippery slope to an early death.' When I opened my mouth to argue, he added, 'Best case scenario is that I'll have your heart in my hands before you're sixty.' Fucking scared the shit out me…oh, sorry."

Happy that her dad is finally considering his health, Asha laughs and says, "I've heard you cuss, Dad. So, how have you found the time for it? You were always too busy to work out. You only play golf because you can conduct business at the same time."

"I don't want you to worry—your inheritance is quite safe—but I've quit…actually, I believe the term is 'semi-retired'. I'm not in the office every day, and even then rarely for an entire day."

She wasn't exaggerating to Teddy; most memories of her father are of him working, at home, interstate, or most often at the headquarters of Fox Accounting. The idea of him easing back at all, let alone so drastically, is enough that she comes to a halt and can only ask, "What?"

He smiles at her obvious shock and says, "I've sort of quit."

"Well…why? Is it the health thing? You're not actually…" Tears blurring her vision, Asha begs, "Daddy, please don't tell me I have to worry about you having a heart attack?"

He enfolds her in his arms and says, "Easy, a leanbh, I'm fine; at least as fit as Henna. But it was a wakeup call, and…" Holding her at arm's length, he asks, "Do you think she could ever forgive me?"

Her parents have been careful to keep her out of their marital dramas; as much as possible, anyway. So it's the most direct involvement she's had when Asha replies, "I think you're asking the wrong person, Dad."

He's taken aback, at first, then smiles fondly and says, "My little girl, all grown up." Suddenly serious, he asks, "Have I been a good father? You know I've tried to be, right?"

Though he rarely asks her opinion, he's always encouraged honesty, so Asha says, "I know, and you've done fine, Dad. But I would have liked more time with you…maybe that's true of every daughter."

He looks momentarily hurt and says, "No, you're right; I was always working. But I was raised by parents who knew true poverty and instilled in me a drive to secure my family's future. What about you, sweetheart; can you forgive me?"

Somehow she senses that he's talking about the affair. She'd been so angry—furious, really—and utterly bewildered; still unable to comprehend why a man who seemed so in love with his wife could betray her like that. But she'd got over it. Leaning into an embrace, she says, "Already have, Dad."

He clutches at the lifeline of affection she offers and eventually ends it, saying, "And I'd better go, or I'll miss my flight. Do you think, when the house if finished, I could visit?"

They're going to be okay. Only now does Asha understand why she'd been more nervous about this meeting than Teddy; she's been genuinely worried that her father would feel she'd deserted him. Glad that fear has proven unfounded, she grins and asks, "You like him, then?"

Her cheeky grin is mirrored and he says, "No; I was hoping that I could visit when he's out." At her glare, he laughs and amends, "Yes. He seems like a good man, but then you've always known how to find that in people. You even miraculously see it in me. I'm proud of you, sweetheart. Despite my best efforts, you've apparently turned out just fine."

When Shanti hears Asha returning, she closes the book and puts it aside, knowing that her daughter will have questions. Sure enough, she's greeted with, "You know Dad's outside?"

"Yes, dear."

Her brow still puckered in confusion, Asha asks, "He says he came here asking to speak with you?"

"Yes, dear."

"And you told him that you'd think about it, then shut the door in his face?"

"Yes."

"When was this?"

Shanti glances at the time and says, "Oh, about five hours ago."

"So he came here pretty much straight after leaving the Greys'?"

"Actually, he got as far as the airport before realizing that he couldn't return to LA without seeing me…so he says."

Asha glances towards the front door and says, "Mom, do you know it's raining cats and dogs out there?"

"Of course I do, but I didn't invite Patrick here, or tell him to stand on the stoop."

"I guess not." Finally, Asha's confusion gives way to a hint of humor and she asks, "So, how long do you intend to make him wait?"

Her own lips curving in a slight smile, Shanti says, "I haven't decided, but perhaps you could sneak him something to eat and drink? I doubt he's had dinner."

Asha smiles and says, "I can do that. Does this mean you might get back together?"

"It means only that he's remembered humility. Don't get your hopes up, okay?"

"All right. You are going to speak with him, though?"

Shanti finally unleashes her smile and picks up her book as she serenely pronounces, "Eventually."