“You’ve met Frederick Goldhirsh already is my guess. A wise man that one, and insightful. He’s a friend, and got me running. I repaid him by going along to a few of his readings, and found I liked them.”

“Mom go with you?”

“No. Your mother is not a comfortable woman to those she doesn’t know.”

She’s not comfortable to her own children. Dylan left that thought in his head.

His father sighed. “The truth is she’s disliked by many for her opinions, and I’ve tried to talk to her about that, but she won’t listen.”

“But the locals are still good with you?” Dylan wasn’t having anyone treating his father with anything other than respect.

“Strangely, yes. But we never touch on council business or Mary. She’s someone I love dearly, but only I get to see the softer side of her nature.”

Dylan had so many things he wanted to say to his father at that moment, but while he was lying there hurting in a hospital bed wasn’t the time. When he was better, they would sit down and talk, and Ava’s wish to be a hairdresser would be top of the list of things he brought up.

Dylan filled him in about his life. As he was talking he realized that it may sound busy and important, but in fact what it was, was empty. He’d convinced himself this was what he’d always wanted, but lately... well, lately he was struggling to believe it. Struggling to deal with the fact that he wasn’t tethered to anyone. There was no one who cared enough about him to share a homecooked meal, or go to a movie. It was a sobering thought.

He left his father when he fell asleep, and headed down the stairs. Nodding to people as he went, Dylan tried to make sense of what he was feeling. Was it simply that he was back here in Ryker? Would he return to normal when he went back to New York? Would his work once again be enough to ground him?

Opening the door on the lower level, he wandered toward the exit. Loud music had him moving to the right to look through the glass in the top half of a door. The room was full of seniors. Buzz sat leaning against a wall watching, and on a small raised platform stood Mr. Goldhirsh and Piper Trainer.

Opening the door, he let himself in—for no other reason than he needed a distraction, Dylan told himself. It was definitely not to see the brunette. Undetected, he lowered himself into a seat. Buzz saw him, however, and the dog trotted over for a scratch. Dylan obliged. Obviously they were now friends; after all, the canine had ridden in his car.

“Come and join in, Dylan!”