by Alina Jacobs
“Stop!” she yelled to Memphis Eve. “Stop it right now!”
“You’re trying to keep him for yourself!” the Instagrammer shrieked in accusation as Brea ran up to the podium and started chasing her sister around. “You were always jealous of me!” Memphis Eve grabbed a pitcher of sangria off of the bridal party table and threw it on Brea.
Brea yelped in surprise as the red liquid dripped down her pink dress.
“You’re not going to cut me out. He’s mine!”
“Memphis Eve,” I snarled, “what is wrong with you? We went on one date. It didn’t work out. Why are you trying to ruin my brother’s wedding?”
Memphis Eve curled her lip up, then she smirked and turned to Brea. “So you didn’t tell him.”
“Don’t you dare say anything!” Brea hollered at her sister. Dress dripping, she picked up a container of hummus and threw it on Memphis Eve. Her sister dodged the attack, and the garlic-flavored spread splashed on the floor, spattering my shoes. I looked on, dumbfounded, as the sisters went at each other.
“I just want a seat at the table like everyone else,” Memphis Eve declared.
“Don’t!” Brea wailed, throwing a fistful of celery at her sister.
“I think I’m owed it, considering you and I are half siblings, Mark,” Memphis Eve said defiantly.
Brea covered her face with her hands.
I dropped the microphone, though it wasn’t a triumphant moment. The room started spinning.
“Brea?” I croaked.
“Don’t listen to her,” Brea said in a rush. “She’s deranged. Besides, there’s no proof.”
“You didn’t even try to get any proof!” Memphis Eve snapped. “You were just going to take the inheritance and cut me out.”
“We’re half siblings?” I looked to my horrified parents. They seemed as shell-shocked as I was.
“But we can’t prove any of this, right?” Brea gave me a pleading smile. “There’s no paternity test. It’s just the rantings of a crazy woman.”
“But you knew.” My voice didn’t sound like my own.
“I—what?”
“This isn’t a surprise to you,” I said flatly. “You. Knew. And you didn’t tell me.”
“Of course she didn’t tell you,” Memphis Eve said snidely. “We were planning on blackmailing your father. But Brea was going to cut me out.”
“I wasn’t going to do any of that,” Brea said, reaching for me.
I jerked away.
“Both of you, get out,” my mother said, rising from her seat. “You are ruining this celebration. It is supposed to be about Wes and Liz. Take your trashy drama and lies elsewhere. And do know that we will be suing you for libel and slander.”
“Except it is true,” a woman piped up, coming into the light. There were more gasps from the audience. The woman was an older version of Memphis Eve, though she had Brea’s facial features.
“Jack,” she purred to my father, who looked shocked and confused.
“You were cheating on Mom?” my brother asked my father, clearly heartbroken.
“Never.”
“Liar!” Brea’s mother hollered. “I know you remember me!”
“Everyone, please ignore this lunatic!” my father announced.
My mother was too well-bred to start crying in front of everyone, but I was sure she was plotting how to quietly kill my father and bury him in the garden.
My uncle was squirming in his seat.
“We shared an intense week of passion,” Brea’s mother insisted. “And you got me pregnant.”
“That’s not—we’ve been over this…” Jack said, working his jaw.
My uncle Walter drained his glass then squinted. “Stella Rose?” he said. “Shit, is that you? What happened?”
Brea’s mother squinted at him and looked between him and Jack. “Wait a damn minute.”
“You were sleeping with my brother,” Jack said, tone exasperated. “I told you the last time, Stella Rose, it wasn’t me.”
“Oh!” Stella Rose exclaimed. “Yeah. Actually, now that I see him in person, it was definitely him I slept with. But your ID said Jack, I swear to God!”
“Mea culpa, Jack,” Uncle Walter said. “I may or may not have stolen your credit card.”
Jack looked like he was going to kill his brother. “I know you stole my card. As soon as Stella Rose popped up, I had private investigators look into the whole situation.”
Brea slapped her forehead with her hand.
I’d had enough. “What the fuck?” I yelled. “This is insane! Are all of you lying to me?”
“I didn’t…I was worried about upsetting you,” Brea said.
“Really? Because it sounds like you were using me to get a payout,” I spat, turning on her.
Brea took a step back. “I did this for you! Memphis Eve is crazy. She was always crazy,” Brea babbled, “That’s why I had to intervene at the fundraiser, because she was the one who was going to use you, not me! I was just trying to protect you.”
All the things that hadn’t made sense locked into place in my brain: the kiss out of nowhere, the lying and deception about her relationship to Memphis Eve, how she was hot and cold.
Memphis Eve gave me a nasty look. “See, she was just in it for herself.”
“I wasn’t,” Brea cried, tears running down her face. “I was trying to fix this.”
“I don’t want to hear any more,” I spat. “Of course you were lying and trying to use me. I should have known it was too good to be true. I never should have trusted you. Get out.”
Dejectedly, she grabbed her purse and slowly made her way to the exit. Not knowing what else to do, I sat back down. The room was dead silent.
My grandfather trotted up to the podium and picked up the microphone.
“Man, Wes,” he said, “I bet you wish you had just eloped, huh. Well, everyone, we just had a classic Holbrook evening! Unknown children coming out of the woodwork. Betrayal! Of course, there weren’t any explosions, and no one got kidnapped, so I guess you didn’t get the deluxe edition. Please enjoy your chicken Kiev!”
At that moment, it was all too much.
I jumped up out of my seat and fled to the parking lot. Part of me wanted to find Brea. But the rational part, the part that had never thought this relationship business was a good idea in the first place, demanded to be put in control, because I had a terrible track record and therefore should simply resign myself to a lifetime of loneliness and solitude.
I was sitting on the curb in the parking lot when Wes came looking for me. He sat wordlessly next to me.
“You should be with Liz,” I said.
“I think she’s tired of me. I’ve been home and underfoot the last few weeks. Even my dog is tired of me being around all the time.” Wes nudged me with his shoulder. “I think everyone has already forgotten about what happened if you want to come back in. Granddad told a really distasteful story about how Ida stuffed a magic potato up where the sun don’t shine, and it sprouted. Your mom’s great-aunt fainted, and they were able to revive her, but then he mentioned that he and Ida were making candles that smelled like them having sex in various places, and she fainted again. But she grabbed onto the tablecloth and spilled wine and fish sauce everywhere.”
I looked down at the pavement.
“Not even a little bit of a smile?” Wes coaxed.
“I’m just tired,” I told him. Then I took a deep breath. “I screwed up. I’m sorry I ruined your night. I never should have gotten involved with Brea. I didn’t even do a background check. I should have known she had a crazy twin. I just…” I rubbed my face. “I wanted what you had with Liz, but I wanted it with Brea—or, I don’t know, maybe I just wanted it with someone, and Brea was the first person who popped up. I never should have done it though. I’m not meant to, you know, have a wife and kids. I clearly make terrible decisions. I’m like Uncle Walter—I’ll always pick someone crazy like Danielle or Stella Rose.”
“I don’t thi
nk Brea is crazy,” Wes said. “Liz says she really loves you. Why don’t you try talking things over with her? She’s been texting Liz, apologizing and asking how you were.”
“I’m done,” I said. “I will never, ever get into another relationship. I’d rather be alone than keep hurting my family. I have my work, and I have a dog. I’ll be fine.”
“You deserve to be happy,” Wes said.
“No, I don’t.”
“None of this is your fault.”
“I have a terrible track record, clearly.”
“I set you up with Memphis Eve,” Wes said stubbornly. “All of this is my fault. Rhonda was my business partner. She was involved in a plot I cooked up. I’m the one that’s been meddling in your love life. You can’t take all of this on your own shoulders.” He patted my back gingerly. “Besides, no one died,” he added.
“Yeah, but what if they had?” I asked desperately.
“You can’t live life by what if,” Wes said. “Did you like Brea? Did you trust her?”
“I did, but now I’m not sure.”
“She’s still the same person. Just go talk to her.”
But I knew I wouldn’t. I had made the same terrible mistake not once but twice. I would not be making it a third time.
“Come back in,” Wes said, standing up and offering me a hand.
I hardened my heart and followed him.
50
Brea
I was sobbing as I walked up the stairs to my dads’ apartment.
“Brea!” Beau exclaimed when he saw me. He and Todd wrapped me in a hug.
It was the sum of everything shitty. I couldn’t even enjoy a hug from my dad because he wasn’t my dad. My life had officially hit rock bottom. I had been in an incestuous relationship—ew!—had ruined Mark’s family, had hurt Mark, and had ruined our business. Ivy was going to kill me. Liz wasn’t going to want to be my friend any more. I was going to have to move to a yurt in Newfoundland.
“My life is a disaster!” I sobbed.
“Come tell me about it,” Beau said, leading me to the couch.
Todd poured me hot chocolate and wrapped an afghan around me, holding me as I cried.
“I messed up.” I sniffled as Todd stroked my hair.
“I’m sure we can fix it together. We’re here for you, Brea.”
“I know, and that’s why it’s so terrible,” I sobbed.
Just get it over with. No more lies.
“I have to tell you something.” I sniffed. “You’re not my dad.”
“What?” Beau was confused.
“Mom was sleeping around, and she slept with Walter Holbrook, and he’s probably my real dad, but I slept with Mark, who is my half cousin, I guess. You know I’m terrible at science. And now I’m going to prison. I can’t survive in prison!”
My dads looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny!” I shrieked, my hot chocolate sloshing. “This is the worst day of my life!”
“What in the world gave you that idea?” Todd said.
“Memphis Eve and Mom,” I said, and I sniffled. “We did a DNA test. Beau is supposed to be my biological father, and he’s not.” I pulled out my phone. “See? It’s a negative paternity result.”
My dads exchanged a look. “Where did you find the DNA? You didn’t ask us.”
“I took a hair off of your pillow.”
Beau grimaced. “Brea,” he said. “There’s something Todd and I have been meaning to tell you.”
“I already know,” I sobbed. “My whole life is a lie.”
“Well, clearly, you don’t know,” Beau said and reached up to his head. He tugged on his hair. He had a full head of brown hair peppered with gray, but he was yanking at it.
“Let me,” Todd said, taking a credit card out of his pocket and sliding it under Beau’s scalp then peeling it back.
I screamed again, expecting a spray of blood, but there was only a shiny, bald dome underneath.
“This isn’t my real hair,” Beau said, and then he started sobbing. “I’m a fraud! I wear a toupee. I started losing my hair at age twenty-eight, and I couldn’t go bald. I’m not Stanley Tucci. I don’t look good in a beard. I needed my hair.”
“This is a very expensive toupee,” Todd said. “Made with real human hair.”
“Oh my God,” I half sobbed and half laughed. “Oh my God. So we should do a real DNA test.”
“We already did,” Todd said. He went to an overstuffed antique filing cabinet wedged between a historic armoire and an 1890s letterpress machine. “See?” he said, taking out a sheaf of paperwork. “We felt that, in the event you ever wanted to get pregnant or, you know, had any sort of health issues, you would need to know your medical history. So we had you tested a while ago, when you were still a little girl.”
“Yes,” Beau said, dabbing at his eyes. “You’re definitely my daughter.”
I sobbed as I looked at the paperwork. Then my dads hugged me, sandwiching me in love.
“This is crazy.” I hiccupped.
“We wish you had just come to us first,” Todd said.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt us,” Beau said. “And even if we weren’t biologically related, you’re still our daughter.”
“And you know,” Todd reminded me, “one of us was never going to be related to you anyway, so it wasn’t going to be that big a shock.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t even think of that.”
Todd sighed dramatically. “Of course. You’re a creative type like me. We don’t do science. Only crystals, incense, and tarot cards.”
“Oh, gosh,” I said, wiping my eyes and taking a fortifying sip of my hot chocolate. “I need to tell Mark. He was so freaked out.”
Beau laughed. “I bet!”
“My reputation is still ruined though,” I warned them. “I may have to move.”
“We’ll move together then,” Todd assured me.
Beau nodded in agreement. “We’ve been thinking about buying a barn and renovating it. You could live in the hayloft!”
I made a copy of the paternity test on my all-in-one scanner then put on my jacket to go find Mark. I knew where he would be. He would be doing what I would be doing in his situation—working to distract himself from what had happened.
The lights in his office were on when the Uber dropped me off. I bribed the security guard with a chocolate chip cookie, and he buzzed me in the elevator up to Mark’s office. Mark was visible through the glass partition.
“Mark. Mark!” I yelled, trotting down the row of empty desks toward him.
His nostrils flared when he saw me. His face was dark, his eyes a brewing storm.
I stopped a couple paces outside his door. Beowulf went crazy when he saw me.
But Mark did not share the puppy’s enthusiasm. “Get out,” Mark said in a monotone.
“But we’re not related,” I said. “My dads did a paternity test. My dad is my dad. So Memphis Eve was lying.” I shoved the papers at him.
Mark took them, scanned them, then said, “I don’t believe you.”
“How can you not?”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Brea?” he growled, taking a step toward me. “You humiliated me, you lied to me, and then you showed up to threaten me at Wes’s reception dinner. You and Memphis Eve were clearly in cahoots.”
“I tried to stop it,” I said, wiping at my nose. I always wanted to be the pretty Scarlett O’Hara crier, but I was an ugly crier, and snot leaked down my face. “I did this because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t lie to people and then tell them you’re just doing it to help them,” Mark said flatly. “That’s gaslighting.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” I said, trying to dig in my purse for a tissue.
“You didn’t even try. You knew something was going on. Yet you hid everything from me until it blew up.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” I pleaded.
“It’s not good enough,” Mark said decisively. He looked away, turning his body away from me. “I know you’re in the wedding because of Liz, but after that, I better not see or hear anything from you,” he said. “You’re dead to me.”
I sobbed quietly in front of him.
“Get out of my office.”
51
Mark
I didn’t know how I was going to survive the wedding the next afternoon. I felt terrible that Brea had been upset. But what could I do? I looked at the copy of the paternity test. I didn’t know what to believe.
“Mark!” my father called from across the office.
I resisted the urge to turn off all the lights and pretend I wasn’t in. I was sure the security guard had ratted me out. I really needed to talk to Jack Frost about that. This was supposed to be a state-of-the-art tower. If people could just bribe the security guard with homemade baked goods, there was a problem.
Beowulf barked and wagged his tail as my father approached.
“Mark,” he said, sounding relieved. “There you are. Why weren’t you answering your phone?”
“I had work to do,” I said, turning back to my computer.
“You can’t just turn to work as a coping method,” my father said, leaning against my desk.
“It’s not a coping mechanism.”
“Really? Then what was so pressing that you had to leave your cousin’s rehearsal dinner? Your mom was worried, especially since Carter kept insisting you probably drowned yourself in the river like Virginia Woolf.”
“I stayed a reasonable amount of time.”
“You didn’t even stay until dessert.”
“I don’t eat dessert.”
We were silent for a moment.
“Look, I’m sorry that you had to find out about Walter like that. Family is complicated.”
“I don’t see what’s so complicated. Uncle Walter slept around and possibly impregnated some crazy woman, who then popped back up to ruin what was supposed to be a happy occasion. And she was the mother of the woman I was dating. And none of you thought you should tell me.”