“It could go both ways, couldn’t it? Maybe it’s part of their life they want to escape.”
He was quiet a minute. “I think if it’s just something that happened to them, then I’d be okay without knowing. But if it was something they did, I’d want to know. Even if it hurt.”
I shifted uncomfortably. He’d want to know the truth. And I wasn’t sure I could ever tell him. Because it would hurt him.
“What about you?”
I gave him a wobbly smile. “That old saying, ignorance is bliss, there’s a lot of value in that.”
“Yeah. There is.”
“I’m not sure what I’d want,” I said truthfully. Sure, if I’d known Kyle was who he was, things could have been different. But what if they weren’t? What if I’d been with him anyway?
Those were the thoughts that had plagued me for three years. Was I a bad person? Or was it circumstance that caused behavior I’m so ashamed of? I still didn’t know the answers, after all this time. I could see why Holt was struggling with this with his mom. Wanting to know the truth, but hesitant. Life wasn’t always so easy. Or black and white. Either way, he needed to know peace, and I hoped he found it one day. Even if I didn't.
“I’m gonna go see my sister,” he said after a long beat of silence.
“Want me to go with you?”
He stroked my hair, a tenderness in his eyes. “Thanks. But I think this is something I’d better handle on my own.”
“Whatever happens, I’m here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Holt
I lifted my fist to knock on the door and hesitated.
She was my sister, for God’s sake. We’d fought and gotten over it more times than I could count. But this was different.
More personal.
Screw it. Somebody had to make the first move. I’d come all the way to Jersey, and I wasn’t leaving without some sort of resolution.
I pounded on the door and peered through the small glass squares that lined the top.
No movement inside.
I stepped back and shoved my hands in my pockets. This was a decent neighborhood. A good one for a kid to grow up in. Blake had a backyard and the widow next door adored my nephew.
But my sister belonged in the city with the rest of us. I got why she’d never leave this place. It was the home she and Jack had made together. He haunted these walls and that was exactly how she wanted it. Who was I to judge her for that?
The door opened a crack, and my sister’s stunned expression greeted me.
“What are you doing here?”
“You know. Now are you going to let me in?”
She contemplated for a moment, and I stared at her incredulously. If she’d showed up at my place, I wouldn’t have thought twice.
Finally, she opened the door.
“Where’s the little monster?” I glanced in the living room to find it empty.
“In the kitchen.”
I faced Marlow. “Look, I crossed a line on Sunday. That wasn’t the time or place.”
“And I torched it.” Was this my sister? Because this definitely sounded like some semblance of an apology. “I was pissed at you for bringing up . . .” She looked down. “That didn’t give me the right to lash out at you.”
“I know what it feels like to suffer in silence,” I admitted. “It’s one thing for me to do it and completely different for my big sister to hurt alone.”
That was the crux of it. I couldn’t stand her pain when I understood it far better than most.
She shrank in on herself. “There’s not a thing you can do to make it better.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders. “I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”
“What I said . . . I didn’t mean it. If I were you, I wouldn’t forgive me for it.”
“Are you asking me to?” She nodded. “Then we’ll forget about it.”
I took her in my arms, and Marlow clung to me. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on top of her head. The distance between us over the years was more my fault than hers. I’d missed my sister. I hoped we could fix that.
“I’ll come to Sunday dinner if you will,” she said, a mischievous smirk on her lips.
“You’re not going to tell Dad, are you?”
“Nope. He’ll like the surprise.”
“HOOOOWW!”
I shoved my finger in my ear and shook my head at my nephew’s shriek. “Is somebody else here?”
I pointed my chin in the direction of the kitchen at the muffled voice.
“Umm . . .”
I grinned. “Patrick hiding in there? I know you like him.” I tugged on her hair and took off.
She grabbed my arm. “Holt. Wait.”
I glanced back at her over my shoulder. “You don’t have to hide it from me.” I winked.
“Holt.”
I ignored her urgency. “Patrick. You dog—” I stopped dead in the doorway to the kitchen.
Patrick wasn’t the one holding my nephew.
I looked back at my sister.
“Holt . . .” Remorse filled her eyes, though I wasn’t sure if it was only because she’d gotten caught.
“How could you?”
I stared in disbelief at our mother sitting in a chair like she was right at home.
“It’s not what you think.”
I spun on Marlow. “No? Then what exactly is this? Because it sure as hell looks like you’ve been hiding something from your family.”
Her face turned red.
I steamed ahead. “What does Dad think?” And then I turned back around. “What are you up to? Nearly forty years of radio silence and now you’re everywhere.” I glared at the woman who gave me life.
She looked at me with the confidence of a person who held all the cards.
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
My mouth gaped open as I stared at my sister. “What does she mean?”
Marlow fumbled as she tried to speak and came up short.
“Answer me.”
“If you want answers, ask me.” My mother was a different woman than the one who had showed up at the shop only a few days ago. This one was less demure, more in command. Like placating me was no longer important. Like . . . she’d won the battle to tear us apart, just in a different way. What was Marlow doing?
I pointed at her. “Stay out of this.”
My sister placed a hand on my shoulder. “Holt. Please.”
My head was literally about to explode. “Please what? I know I’ve been a stranger, but I have no idea who you are. You’ve been lying to all of us.” I sniffed and looked away in disgust. “Except on Sunday. Guess you knew what you were talking about after all.”
I marched over to my nephew and kissed the top of his head, careful to avoid touching my mother. “Love you, little man.”
“HOLT.”
I blinked at him in surprise. “That’s right, buddy.”
“Holt. Holt. Holt.”
I gently pinched his chubby cheek. “Blake. Blake. Blake.”
Reluctantly, I pulled away from him. I ignored my mother and frowned at my sister as I moved toward the door.
Without a word, I brushed past her. She grabbed my shirt as I stormed down her hallway.
“Wait. Holt.”
“I don’t know how you can do this to Dad. He’s been a rock for you. For Blake. But this? I can’t hide this from him. It’s not right,” I said without stopping.
She pulled harder and followed me out the front door. “Don’t. It’ll kill him.”
I spun on the front stoop. “You should have thought about that before you betrayed him.”
“We shouldn’t have to choose between them.”
“We don’t,” I said, my voice rising. “She chose. Or have you forgotten she walked out on us. All of us.”
“Please don’t tell him. I’ll find a way. Just let me do it in my own time.”
I crossed my
arms. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
She clutched the sleeve of my shirt. “I can’t lose him.”
“Do you have that little faith in the man who raised us? All on his own?” I stared at her. “What’s happened to you?”
I stomped down the sidewalk without waiting for an answer. She’d betrayed all of us and put me in the terrible position of having to keep her secret or hurt our father. I didn’t want to do either. And I didn’t want to lose my nephew. But right now, I could hardly stand to think of Marlow, let alone consider being in the same space with her.
How long has this been going on? Why had she kept it from all of us?
My brother would have never condoned the relationship, but he wouldn’t have tried to stop her if this was what she wanted. Dad wouldn’t either.
Dad.
How was I going to tell him Marlow had been seeing our mother? I didn’t know, but there wasn’t a choice. He deserved the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Baker
“Where’s the little lady?”
Trish was empty-handed when she opened her door.
“Andrew is picking her up from his dad on his way home.” She stepped to the side to let me in.
I hugged her tightly.
“Hope leftovers from Delores are okay for dinner. I’m bushed.”
“I’m not picky, especially when it comes from your food truck. And as long as I can take something back for Holt.”
Trish gave me a strange look and a secretive smile. “I think that can be arranged.” She linked her arm through mine and led me to the kitchen. “Speaking of, how’s the roommate situation going?”
I widened my eyes in mock-horror. “Do not use that word in front of him.”
“Why not?”
I filled her in on the whole fiasco.
“So let me get this straight. You’re not seeing other people, but you’re not exclusive?”
“That about sums it up.” I threw my hands up and shrugged.
“Do you want to be?”
Trish transferred food into serving dishes. She looked back at me when I didn’t immediately answer.
“No.” I knotted my fingers together. “Well, I mean, I don’t want him to date anyone else, and I don’t want to either. But I’m not ready for commitment.” I rested my arms on the kitchen table and dropped my forehead on top of them. “I’m not sure I’m ready for what we’re doing.”
“Most of us rarely are.”
“I think I might have agreed to live with him because I didn’t want to look like a chicken.” The confession came out in an annoyed huff. Not with him, but with myself.
“You agreed to live with him because it’s what you wanted to do,” she corrected.
“My brother driving you crazy?”
I popped my head up. Andrew strolled across the kitchen, Ella in his arms. He kissed Trish’s temple.
“Hey.” She touched his cheek, then ran a hand over her daughter’s baby soft hair.
A pang of longing nearly crippled me, even as happiness for my friend spread. She deserved this kind of love, especially after everything she’d been through.
“So, my brother? Is he behaving?”
“Does he know how?”
“Nope.” He pointed toward the fridge. “Tea?”
“I’m good.” I held up my half empty glass.
“You need anything, Bright Side?”
“I’m good too.” She popped a couple of the baking dishes in the oven. “How’s your dad?”
Andrew sighed. “Stressed about the tiff between Marlow and Holt.”
“Tiff?” I asked incredulously. That seemed far too mild to describe what was happening.
“His words, not mine.” He reached for a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some iced tea.
“He’s going to see her.” I held out my arms, and Andrew placed Ella in them.
“He is?”
I nodded. “I offered to go with him, but he wanted to do it on his own. Since I haven’t heard from him, I don’t know how it went.”
“I wonder if that’s why she didn’t need Dad to keep Blake today.”
The doorbell rang, and we all looked at one another.
“Are you expecting company?” Trish tensed.
“No. It’s probably Patrick.” Andrew disappeared from the kitchen.
“I know it’s crazy, but every time someone shows up unannounced, I always think the worst.”
“He’s not coming back. Ever again,” I promised her. “Patrick is going to make sure of it.”
She’d been through hell with her ex-husband. The fear didn’t just disappear, even though she and Ella were safe.
“Slow down.”
Trish and I looked toward the doorway at the sound of Andrew’s voice.
“I don’t know what to do. How am I supposed to tell Dad? How could she do this to us?”
I stiffened at Holt’s panicked tone.
“Take a breath, man.”
“I can’t—” He froze when he saw me. “Easy?”
I bolted from the chair and stopped short of throwing my arms around him. “It didn’t go well.”
He gave his head a slight shake and took me into his arms. I snaked mine around his waist and buried my face against him. The scent of motor oil and Holt settled my racing heart.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled my head back.
“What happened?” I whispered.
His eyes were turbulent. “She was there.” The words were pained as he choked them out.
“Your sister didn’t accept your apology?”
He was quiet a moment before he finally spoke. “She did.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
“My mother was there.”
Holy crap. Why would she have been at Marlow’s?
“I thought . . .”
“That none of us had anything to do with her,” he finished. “Me too.”
He dropped his chin to the top of my head. His pulse throbbed at the base of his neck. I clutched his shirt in my fists and held him close.
“Here.” Andrew handed Holt an open bottle of water.
The oven timer beeped, and we disentangled to help Trish set the table.
Once we were all settled around it, our plates filled, Andrew cleared his throat. “What the hell happened?”
Holt downed some water and picked at the edge of the label. I touched his knee under the table where it bounced in a restless rhythm.
“I thought it was Patrick. But she sat at the kitchen table, holding Blake like she fucking knew him.” Holt glanced at Ella. “Sorry, Trish.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, giving him a reassuring smile.
“She said she’s been here the whole time. What does that even mean? Has she been in Marlow’s life all along?”
Andrew’s face went blank. “I don’t know.”
“I have to tell Dad.”
He gaped at Holt. “Is that a good idea?”
“Your sister didn’t think so.” Bitterness threaded Holt’s words.
“Let me talk to her.”
Trish touched Andrew’s arm. “Holt’s right. Your dad deserves to know.”
He grimaced. “This is going to hurt him.”
Holt shook his bottle at Andrew a few times. “What is she up to? She’s after me. You. Marlow. Dad. Why now?”
“It makes no sense.”
“I swear it’s like she was watching Dad, saw he was happy with Mrs. Quinn. Then she shows up and everything goes to hell.” Holt pushed his plate away.
“You should’ve seen him the day she’d come by to see him.” Andrew’s fork dangled from his fingers. “He was as distraught as I’ve ever known him to be.”
Holt stopped peeling the label. “I wonder how often she calls him.”
He couldn’t even say Mom. Neither of them could. I didn’t blame them one bit.
Andrew pushed back from the table, the chair making an awf
ul noise as it scraped across the floor. He tossed his napkin down.
“She’s been in contact with him again? And you didn’t think to tell me this?”
Andrew’s anger over a phone call took me by surprise, but it was a testament to just how deep that woman had hurt all of them.
“I thought you knew.” Holt stood and grabbed another beer from the fridge. He held up the wine bottle to me. I nodded emphatically. He filled both my glass and Trish’s.
“I didn’t. Is everybody in this family keeping secrets from each other?” Andrew spat as he paced in front of the oven.
Trish went to him and slipped an arm around his waist. He clutched her to his side and absently kissed her head. Like he needed the comfort.
“Why won’t she just leave him alone?” Andrew muttered.
I sat awkwardly, uncertain what to do. This was bad. All of it so, so bad. Holt’s pain was palpable. Both brothers’ were.
“I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you,” Holt said. “I hadn’t said anything because, well, I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Andrew plowed his free hand through his hair. The move reminded me so much of Holt.
“I know. It’s just—”
“A lot to take in.”
“I’ll call him. Let’s get this over with now.” Andrew pulled his phone from his pocket.
“You should think about this,” I said quickly. “Make sure it’s what you want to do.”
Holt’s brow creased. “This about last night?”
“Yeah. Blissfully ignorant.”
“The truth isn’t always pretty, but it’s always the best,” Trish said reasonably.
We exchanged a look. Her experience had been that hiding the truth didn’t end well. She didn’t want the same for me. But our situations weren’t close to the same.
Holt sank back in his chair. “I don’t want to do it.”
“Neither do I.” Andrew sagged against the counter. “Maybe we should sleep on it. Decide in the morning.”
“Maybe Marlow will tell him and you won’t have to,” I offered, knowing full well she wouldn’t.
“Hell would freeze over first,” Holt said. “But you’re right. Let’s think it over.”
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