6:19

Gareth pulled out the chair and dropped a big bundle of worn manila envelopes on the table. They were all different sizes and tied together in a neat package with butcher’s string.

He smiled at Rowan and said, “Can I get a beer or something here?”

“Sure, bottles, or they’ve got a pale ale on tap.” Rowan gestured at the passing waitress. “So, everything good?”

Gareth smiled halfheartedly. “I guess. My old man showed, eventually, and it all went the way it was supposed to. Creepy place though.” He nodded towards the bundle. ”And I got what I wanted anyway.”

He paused while the waitress dropped off the beer and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“Not sure how I feel about my old man, though. I thought I’d let it all go,once I got my way, but I still can’t figure why he did it and that just keeps pissing me off again.”

“Hey,” Rowan said slowly, “y’all remember I don’t know nothin’ ’bout this, right? Always did seem a bit too much ’citement about a minor thang. Not enough to rile ya up so much anyway. Not prying, mind ya, just sayin’ is all.”

“Minor? I suppose, but there are a few things you probably don’t know. Like that guy we call my dad … well, not so much. And this stuff here on the table: these belong to my real father. so you can see why it might ’rile me up’ some that he wasn’t letting me have them.”

Rowan stifled the urge to let her jaw drop. She’d known Gareth’s father all her life, or at least she’d thought she had. This certainly changed her viewpoint, more than a tad.