Read Online The Mighty Quinns: Malcolm by Kate Hoffmann - Free Book Online
Authors: Kate Hoffmann
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skills very sexy?”
“I’m famished,” she cried.
Grudgingly, Mal got out of bed and followed her into the kitchen, tugging on a pair of boxer shorts along the way. Though Amy had never cooked with a half-naked man, she tried her best to focus on the supper preparations. Mal leaned against the counter, watching her.
She opened up cabinets, pulling out packages that seemed promising. Then she went to the refrigerator. It was nearly empty. She found a shriveled onion in the vegetable bin along with a bag of carrots that still looked edible and a stick of butter. “How old are these eggs?”
“At least a month,” Mal said as he munched on the Vegemite sandwich. “No older than two months.”
The expiry date on the package said they were still fine, so she placed them on the counter. She pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and set it beside the eggs, then picked up a package of freeze-dried vegetables. “How do I make these?”
“Just run some hot water into the bag and let them sit for five minutes.” He studied her as she moved around the kitchen. “You live in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Right in the city?”
Amy nodded. “Not in Manhattan. In Brooklyn. Have you ever been to New York?”
“I’ve seen it from a plane. The Statue of Liberty is pretty cool. But I’m not much for big cities. Too claustrophobic. I like to be able to see the horizon.”
“What made you decide to follow in your father’s footsteps?” Amy asked.
His brow shot up. “Is this on the record?”
“No,” she said, glancing over at him. “I’m just curious. I’ll tell you when it’s on the record.”
Mal shrugged. “I think it was a way to get closer to him,” he said. “My brothers and I used to camp and hike when we were younger and we’d talk about our dad and some of the adventures he had. He was a superhero to us, and I guess we wanted to be like him. To my mum’s dismay. She isn’t happy about what we do, but we’re all much more careful than my father.”
“He wasn’t careful?”
“He enjoyed living on the edge,” Mal said. “Climbing was a religious experience to him. He used to say that adrenaline fed his soul. It’s not the same for me. I like being outdoors, I like helping people see places that not everyone gets to see. But for me, I started climbing to figure out who my father was and why he did it.”
“What about your brothers?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never asked them why they do it. I just assumed it was for the same reasons.” He drew a deep breath. “It feels good to talk about him. He seems more real when I do, not just some vague memory.”
“He was a legend,” she said.
“Yeah. But that may have been more of a curse for him than a blessing. Maybe if he hadn’t had to live up to his own myth, he might have been more careful.”
“And now he’s left you to live up to him.”
“I try not to dwell on that. It only makes me feel as though I haven’t done enough. His business was made on his reputation. I don’t have that advantage.”
“Believe me, I understand. My father is a bit mythical himself. He’s constantly trying to challenge me, throwing rocks in the road and hoping I fail.”
“How?”
“He gave me a job at an adventure magazine when I would have been happy writing about shoes or purses. Or even casseroles and oven mitts. He was sure I’d quit, but then I started to like the job. And I’m really good at what I do.”
“You’re good at other things too,” Mal teased. “I can testify to that.”
They continued to chat about his childhood, about the move from Australia back to his mother’s family in New Zealand, the difficulties of dealing with his father’s death and the financial fallout. Amy was surprised at how easily he opened up, especially about his mother’s battle with Roger Innis.
That part of the story hadn’t been in her research. It was something that both parties had kept private. But from what Mal told her, his father’s
“I’m famished,” she cried.
Grudgingly, Mal got out of bed and followed her into the kitchen, tugging on a pair of boxer shorts along the way. Though Amy had never cooked with a half-naked man, she tried her best to focus on the supper preparations. Mal leaned against the counter, watching her.
She opened up cabinets, pulling out packages that seemed promising. Then she went to the refrigerator. It was nearly empty. She found a shriveled onion in the vegetable bin along with a bag of carrots that still looked edible and a stick of butter. “How old are these eggs?”
“At least a month,” Mal said as he munched on the Vegemite sandwich. “No older than two months.”
The expiry date on the package said they were still fine, so she placed them on the counter. She pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and set it beside the eggs, then picked up a package of freeze-dried vegetables. “How do I make these?”
“Just run some hot water into the bag and let them sit for five minutes.” He studied her as she moved around the kitchen. “You live in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Right in the city?”
Amy nodded. “Not in Manhattan. In Brooklyn. Have you ever been to New York?”
“I’ve seen it from a plane. The Statue of Liberty is pretty cool. But I’m not much for big cities. Too claustrophobic. I like to be able to see the horizon.”
“What made you decide to follow in your father’s footsteps?” Amy asked.
His brow shot up. “Is this on the record?”
“No,” she said, glancing over at him. “I’m just curious. I’ll tell you when it’s on the record.”
Mal shrugged. “I think it was a way to get closer to him,” he said. “My brothers and I used to camp and hike when we were younger and we’d talk about our dad and some of the adventures he had. He was a superhero to us, and I guess we wanted to be like him. To my mum’s dismay. She isn’t happy about what we do, but we’re all much more careful than my father.”
“He wasn’t careful?”
“He enjoyed living on the edge,” Mal said. “Climbing was a religious experience to him. He used to say that adrenaline fed his soul. It’s not the same for me. I like being outdoors, I like helping people see places that not everyone gets to see. But for me, I started climbing to figure out who my father was and why he did it.”
“What about your brothers?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never asked them why they do it. I just assumed it was for the same reasons.” He drew a deep breath. “It feels good to talk about him. He seems more real when I do, not just some vague memory.”
“He was a legend,” she said.
“Yeah. But that may have been more of a curse for him than a blessing. Maybe if he hadn’t had to live up to his own myth, he might have been more careful.”
“And now he’s left you to live up to him.”
“I try not to dwell on that. It only makes me feel as though I haven’t done enough. His business was made on his reputation. I don’t have that advantage.”
“Believe me, I understand. My father is a bit mythical himself. He’s constantly trying to challenge me, throwing rocks in the road and hoping I fail.”
“How?”
“He gave me a job at an adventure magazine when I would have been happy writing about shoes or purses. Or even casseroles and oven mitts. He was sure I’d quit, but then I started to like the job. And I’m really good at what I do.”
“You’re good at other things too,” Mal teased. “I can testify to that.”
They continued to chat about his childhood, about the move from Australia back to his mother’s family in New Zealand, the difficulties of dealing with his father’s death and the financial fallout. Amy was surprised at how easily he opened up, especially about his mother’s battle with Roger Innis.
That part of the story hadn’t been in her research. It was something that both parties had kept private. But from what Mal told her, his father’s
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