I had somehow managed to get lumbered with my grandfather and my Uncle Javier after the memorial service, and both were now beginning to drink. A combination of whiskey and rum, I believe, like they so often did at events, be it parties, celebrations or memorials… any excuse to drink together. They were quite amusing when they were drinking, but it meant I would likely have to referee as their insults to one another got worse.
“So, no mate then?” Grandpa said to me with narrowed eyes.
“No Grandpapi, not yet.” I shook my head, I hated this, every time they saw us, they asked, like they expected something to change. Dad said his grandparents had been the same, and it was just something I would have to get used to until I found a chosen mate unless I was blessed with a second chance mate.
