Hudson

by Melody Anne

  “Sit down, Damien,” Joseph said after shaking his hand and taking his seat again. “This isn’t a short story.”

  Damien looked as if he wanted to argue, but he let out a breath and took the last open seat at the table. He didn’t say another word, just folded his hands on top of the table and waited.

  Finn pulled a bottle of beer out of the bucket filled with ice and drinks, and slid it in front of Damien. It was a show of friendship Joseph was thrilled to see.

  “You’ll need this,” Finn said. Then all eyes turned to Joseph as they waited to hear what he had to say.

  “This took me a very long time to get worked out. I’ve had four private investigators looking into it since your mother called me,” Joseph began as he looked at each of the men, including Damien.

  Damien’s brow furrowed. “My mother has been dead for a very long time,” he said. “I’ve come to terms with my childhood and the demons she faced. I’ve let that go — or at least I had until hearing of this new situation.”

  Joseph had to give Damien a lot of credit because he had no problem looking each of these men in the eyes. That showed a lot of who Damien was. Joseph truly loved him and hated what he had to tell him now.

  “No, the woman who raised you died a long time ago,” Joseph said. He went quiet as he let those words sink in. Not a sound could be heard at their table. Joseph waited for Damien to ask the next question. He knew what it would be.

  “The woman who raised me?” Damien finally said. “She had pictures of my father and her while she was pregnant. She had pictures of me the day I was born,” he said. He’d told Joseph that he hadn’t kept any of it. When he’d walked away from that house, he’d walked away from that life, but he could still remember the album she’d shown him over and over again. “She’d look at my birth pictures and cry.” He remembered feeling bad about how much pain he’d caused her when he’d been born.

  “She was crying because the baby in those pictures wasn’t you,” Joseph explained. A gasp escaped a few of the men at the table.

  “Joseph, you might want to just spit this out,” Finn said as he leaned forward. Damien polished off his beer, and Finn passed him another right before opening his own bottle.

  “My Uncle Neilson had zero morals,” Joseph said. “He blamed my father and my grandfather for the destruction of his life. He wanted the company, but everyone knew he’d dismantle it and take any money he could. Many jobs would’ve been lost if that would’ve happened. So my grandfather made the very difficult decision to ask that I be put in charge of it. He knew I’d fight to the ends of the earth to keep it together. He didn’t disown Neilson, though. He’d made him offer after offer to run different companies, to help him begin his own, to help him get ahead in life. Neilson didn’t want to work for anything. That was the one unacceptable compromise to my grandfather. He’d worked hard his entire life, and he expected the same from his sons and his grandsons. It’s why I taught my own children the same work ethic, the same responsibility of helping others. It’s good to lend a hand, it’s poor parenting to ask nothing of your children.”

  “So Neilson decided to throw a fit and walk away?” Damien asked. “Did he think his father would chase him down and hand him what he wanted?”

  “I believe that’s exactly what he thought. But my grandfather died. And he left nothing to Neilson. The family still would’ve helped him. But he didn’t want help. He wanted all or nothing. He wasn’t going to take pennies when he thought he was worth billions. Those were his own words. And all of us in this family had worked too hard to give away something to someone not willing to earn it.”

  “So where does my mother come into this?” Damien asked. “And their mother? I’m assuming we have the same father. I can see the similarity. I don’t understand how it all worked. Neilson died when I was about six months old. I don’t know exactly when it happened as my mother . . .” He paused and took a breath. “As the woman I thought was my mother didn’t give me an exact time.”

  “The woman who raised you had a son who died at less than a month old. As much as I’ve searched I can’t find if it was natural, or if something nefarious happened,” Joseph said.

  “What do you mean?” Noah asked.

  Damien was speechless.

  “Sometimes women go through serious postpartum depression and things happen. We don’t know what exactly happened in this situation. They were in a foreign country, and they didn’t file paperwork. It took the investigators a long time to find a couple who lived next to Neilson and Maria, as she was called then. This neighbor said she’d just come home with the baby and about a month later was weeping on the front porch, holding the still infant in a blanket. They left that night and weren’t seen ever again.”

  “So how do I fit into this?” Damien asked. His face had gone white. He wasn’t putting the pieces together. No one could have. It was so underhanded it didn’t seem possible.

  “Your birthmother, Sandra, showed up on my doorstep nearly forty years ago. You were only a few weeks old. She was scared. Her husband was missing, and she didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t home; Katherine invited her inside and pleaded with her to allow us to help. In the morning she was gone. And though we searched, we didn’t hear from her again.”

  Damien tried to speak, and Joseph held up his hand, silently asking him to wait.

  “From what we’ve found, that baby was you. Neilson had come back to Sandra when you were approximately three months old and took you away while she was sleeping. He took you to Maria to replace the infant she’d lost. Your mother, your real mother, Sandra, was already pregnant with Finn at that point, and he figured he’d make both of the women in his life happy. The sad thing was that they were only living about a hundred miles apart for nearly a year, and of course, neither wife knew of the other. Neilson decided he wanted to be with Sandra, your biological mother, and also the mother of Finn, Noah, Brandon, Hudson, and Crew,” Joseph told him as he pointed to each man in turn.

  “We’ve never heard anything of another baby,” Crew said, looking suspicious of this story.

  “When Nielson disappeared with Damien, he didn’t come back for six weeks according to the reports. Sandra was panicked, but she was in a remote village in a foreign land and didn’t speak the language, and though she tried getting help, there was no one to help her. She’d wanted to give up, not knowing what she’d do. She might’ve given up had it not been for the fact that she was carrying another child.”

  “How did you find this out?” Finn asked.

  “They finally tracked down the village where you were all born. There were four people able to collaborate this story. After six weeks, Neilson returned. He told Sandra the baby had been taken, and he’d gone after the kidnappers. He said he hadn’t planned to come back to her until he’d found him, but he discovered the baby had been killed. He said there was nothing they could do and the best thing for the sake of their unborn child was to grieve the loss and get rid of all traces of him ever having been there,” Joseph said.

  He reached into a briefcase and pulled out a picture. He handed it to Damien, who stared down at the image. It was of a woman holding a baby, a bright smile on her lips, her eyes sparkling with joy.

  “A neighbor had this picture. It was taken a few days before you disappeared.” He pulled out another picture. It was of the same woman, her belly round, her lips turned down, and her eyes dull. “This was several months later. She was about seven months along with Finn at that point, and still in pain over her loss of you.”

  “So Neilson faked his death after leaving me with his castoff wife, and then went back to Sandra?” Damien asked.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what he did. He was trying to decide if he was going to stay with Maria or Sandra. He chose Sandra,” Joseph said.

  “Lucky her,” Noah said, bitterness and sarcasm in his voice.

  “No, it’s lucky for our family that we got all of you. But the only lucky day your mother had was when Nei
lson actually disappeared from her life,” Joseph said. “And I’m sorry you didn’t get to know Sandra, Damien; even though she’d been put through hell, she truly was a wonderful woman and mother.”

  “I don’t know how to process this,” Damien said.

  “This isn’t something anyone processes in a minute, or even a week. This is something that will haunt all of us for a very long time to come,” Finn said. “I’d like to see all of the paperwork from the investigators”— he turned to Damien —“if that’s okay with you.”

  Damien seemed shocked that Finn was asking. “Apparently it has to do with you as much as it has to do with me,” Damien told him. “I don’t know what to think about any of it. I can’t make it compute in my brain. I’ve been so angry with so many people for a very long time. My wife helped me heal, helped me forgive. And now I have to go through the entire process all over again.” He seemed defeated in that moment.

  “This time you have brothers to help you figure it out. It won’t be easy, but maybe we can all have some sort of understanding if we do this together,” Brandon said.

  “It’ll take time to get used to the word brother,” Damien said.

  “That part won’t take us any time at all,” Brandon said with a grin. “I mean what’s the dif between four or five brothers?” He always had to crack a joke. It was a welcome relief, though, and got a few slight smiles.

  “It’ll take time to process, and I want all of you to know I’m here to answer any questions along the way,” Joseph said before he leaned back. He waited to see if any of them would say anything. Silence hung heavy over all of them so Joseph sat back up.

  “I’m sure you six have a lot of talking to do without me overhearing,” he told them. They stared at him with confused looks.

  “I don’t know what to think,” Damien finally said, his face a bit blanched. “My father truly was a monster, but this takes his monstrous acts to a whole new level. I wonder if there are other women out there.”

  “Yes, he was scum. I don’t like speaking ill of the dead, but your father didn’t have a single redeemable quality in him. However, I’m grateful for his life, because without him, I wouldn’t have the six of you. So he did at least leave something great behind,” Joseph said.

  “True. I guess good can come from evil,” Brandon said with a crooked smile. “I want to scream, but what else can you do but throw your hands in the air and crack a joke? I mean, this stuff just doesn’t happen in real life.”

  “It sure does in the Anderson universe,” Finn said as he leaned back while sipping his beer.

  “At least we’re never bored,” Damien said. And that’s what it took to break the tension hanging heavy at their table. Everyone seemed to let out a breath of air at once. “It’s not at all okay, but this is just another bump in the road.”

  “That’s true. I can’t consider my life boring,” Finn said, reaching over and patting Damien’s back. Joseph was proud of these kids, proud of them for taking Damien in. He was their brother and Joseph had no doubt he’d feel like he’d always been with them in no time at all.

  Joseph zeroed in on Hudson. “Speaking of boredom. What will you do now that the veterans project is finished?” He wanted to change the subject. They’d been sullen long enough. It was time to look to the future instead of the tragic past.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” Hudson said. “I want to build a golf course community with housing, shops, and dining. I’ve worked on the plans for years with Noah; now I want to see it come to life. But I need to find the perfect property, which seems to be an impossible task. I don’t want to rush and be unhappy in the end.”

  Joseph’s smile grew. “I know of a piece of property that isn’t on the market yet, and you can get it for a great price. I think it would fit your needs perfectly.”

  “What’s the catch?” Hudson asked.

  The brightness that had been dimmed in Hudson’s eyes for about a month was beginning to light back up at Joseph’s words, but an undercurrent of suspicion remained. Joseph would have to tone down his smile. His family had grown suspicious of his actions in recent years. He didn’t understand why because results couldn’t lie, and they were all incredibly happy. They should thank him for his meddling ways, not fight him every step of the way.

  “There’s no catch. I have an old friend who has a lot of acres he’s looking to sell. In the old days it was a working farm, but now it’s neglected land waiting for someone with a vision. He wants to move to the new senior living facility where he can socialize and live a real life.”

  “Is the property online?” Hudson asked.

  “Nope. But I’ll take you there now if you want,” Joseph said.

  Hudson’s eyes lit with excitement. “That would be great.”

  The line had been cast, and his fish had bitten. This year was getting slightly better. It would end with perfection. His wife would be cured, and one more nephew was going to catch the marriage flu.

  Then Crew would have his undivided attention.

  He leaned back and listened as the boys began loosening up with one another. He pulled out one of his favorite cigars and took his time lighting it. He’d take Hudson to the property in a little while. For now, he was making plans, and he couldn’t wait to share them with his circle of matchmakers.

  Chapter Twelve

  Insults were shouted as Daisy Green glared at the construction crew trying their best to intimidate her. They could call her all of the names they wanted — she wasn’t budging. She was neither afraid, nor intimidated. She was on a mission, and no one would stop her.

  She’d been back home with her grandfather for a month, and her mood hadn’t improved one little bit in all of that time. She’d snuck out like a thief in the night from Hudson’s hotel room and thought she’d have forgotten all about him by now.

  She’d been wrong.

  It had taken all of the willpower she’d possessed to keep herself from doing an internet search for him. But what were her chances of finding him anyway? Slim to none. There had to be many Hudson Andersons in the world. And she didn’t really want to find him anyway, she assured herself.

  It had been a fantastic night, the best of her life, but she’d known from the second she said yes to him that it would only be one night. There was no way it could be more. Now if she could convince her body she’d made the right decision, she’d be a very happy woman indeed.

  Instead, she was in a terrible mood. But she was doing what she loved — fighting for a worthy cause. She’d convinced herself she wasn’t going to do it anymore, but this building hit home — her home, and this was about so much more than just a cause.

  Daisy couldn’t stop fighting. In the past months she’d decided she had to be smarter in her approach. She was tired of constantly being told no. She might be small, but she was strong and fierce. She cursed her blonde hair and blue eyes, and had even tried dying her golden locks black to make her appear more serious. She hated being called a Barbie, or thought of as less intelligent because of genetics.

  But she didn’t like taking time to dye her hair every six weeks, so she’d given up and allowed her natural color . . . with some chemical help . . . to come back. She kept her hair in a tight bun and wore oversized eyeglasses she didn’t need when she remembered. That helped a little. She also never wore dresses in public. She wanted to be taken seriously so she dressed for success.

  “I’m not real comfortable with this,” Darla, her best friend since kindergarten, said.

  “Don’t worry, Darla. They won’t smash in the building as long as we’re standing here. They might be willing to murder the building and all of the happy memories it contains, but they won’t go so far as to kill people,” Daisy said with confidence.

  “Listen, you bimbos, we’re paid by the job, not the hour, so can you please get your cute little asses out of the way so we can finish?” a man shouted.

  “If you want to come stand over here, we don’t mind the view,
” another called out, creating laughter from many of the crew.

  “Come on, guys, there’s no need to be crude,” another said, shocking Daisy. At least there was one decent man among the group.

  “Billy, if they want to put themselves on display, they can reap what they’ve sewn,” the first man shouted back.

  The young man who’d tried to defend them shrugged and sat back in the huge tractor he was operating. Daisy looked at him, her hope abandoned that he’d continue to fight for them when he looked down. Weren’t there any real men left in the world who fought for valor, honor, and what was right?

  The building Daisy and Darla were currently chained to was a hundred-year-old schoolhouse. They’d both attended it from kindergarten through fifth grade. It was small, and hadn’t been used since they’d built a brand new school a couple of miles down the road five years ago, but there was no need to take this one down.

  There were a lot of memories in the school and even more history that would be demolished if this crew got their way. They wanted to rip it down and put up an eyesore of an apartment complex. The neighborhood had already grown around the school, trying to squeeze it out, but the five-acre plot of land could be turned into a museum and park. With some love and time, this building could stand for many more years to come.

  “I love this school too,” Darla said. Then she sighed, looking at Daisy as if she was already defeated. “But you know that each time you do this, in the end we lose. The building still gets torn down and then you’re bummed for weeks. Maybe tearing down the old and building new is something we have to accept.”

  Daisy vehemently shook her head. “No. I refuse to believe that. History matters. We can’t just pave over it and pretend we don’t have a past. I won’t let this go. I refuse to. I refuse to live in a world where only new and modern exists. They might win, and they might tear down this building, but at least we can say we tried our hardest. At least we can say we made a difference.”