by Scott, Eliot
“Bananas are on sale,” she finally says.
“I love those!” Emily shouts from the seat across the table from me. She leaps from her chair and crawls onto the sofa with Aunt Shelly, snuggling in to look at pictures in the paper with her. It’s actually been nice having my aunt here. With Walt gone for his annual hunting trip, she hasn’t felt safe staying at the antique shop alone.
“Don’t show her the bad stories,” I say. I’d rather give my daughter innocence when I can, and I know how my aunt likes to direct the news.
“We’re looking at the food ads.” Aunt Shelly waves her hand in my direction.
I step up and glance at the pages in her hand to make sure she’s not lying, and I’m relieved when I see the poultry and bread photos on the page as she turns it.
“Daddy’s home!” Emily announces, pushing hard from her aunt’s belly, using enough force to make Shelly grunt.
“How do you know?” I stand and work my hands into my pockets so no one can see how I’ve been nervously picking at my fingers for hours.
“The lights reflect on the ceiling when he pulls in the driveway! I wait for them.” She starts to bounce on her toes about a dozen feet away from the front door, and I hear the car door slam outside. I smirk and think of how observant my girl is. Those skills will serve her well.
The door cracks open at first, and I stand behind Emily and meet Alex’s gaze.
“Hey.” His smile is crooked. Guilty?
“Hey.” I frown, pulling my brow in, noticing he’s clearly hiding something behind the door.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long. My phone died, and I didn’t have my charging cable. My hands were a little full, too.” The smile on his face grows tighter, so tight that I start to mimic it.
Something is up. What’s wrong?
“Alex?” My pulse is kicking at my insides with hesitant anticipation.
“Don’t be mad,” he says quickly, his arm finally giving way as a golden, curly-haired puppy gently falls to the ground and cautiously ambles across the marble and onto the wood-planked floor into the arms of our squealing daughter.
“You got a puppy!” Emily shrieks, falling on her butt and then lying down as the pup crawls over her belly and begins licking her chin. Her giggle shakes her chest and she works to roll with the puppy and cling to him with the grip of an Olympic wrestler.
“Alex, oh my!” My mouth hangs open in awe at the sight of Emily and this new little furball.
“I know, I know,” Alex says, reaching his arm to sweep me in front of him. He wraps me up in his hold and we both watch while Shelly joins Emily on the floor to get to know our new family member.
“I should have discussed this with you first, but I always wanted a puppy, and Father never allowed it. A lady was selling them out of the back of her truck. She had three left, and he started giving kisses right away. Seemed like he just fit, ya know? We’ll get him checked at the vet, but she swore they’d all had their first shots—and—” He steps closer, and I feel his lips nuzzle against the side of my head. I smile at every bit of it. “And…I thought a father-daughter gift was in order for today.”
“He’s—it’s—so perfect.” I turn in his arms, snuggling in for a fast kiss.
“What is he?” Shelly stands and lifts the squirming dog into her arms, cradling him against her chest.
“He’s a—mutt—doodle—poodle.”
Shelly and I both laugh.
“Sounds manly,” Shelly adds.
“Yeah, I know. Let’s hope he doesn’t grow up to be too big,” Alex says, stepping away from me and bending forward to nuzzle his own nose against the pup’s. “So what do you think, Em? What are we going to name him?”
Emily puts her finger to her mouth and rolls her eyes up, exaggerating her thinking as she rocks from side to side. It takes her exactly ten seconds to blurt out the name I knew was coming.
“Ajax! Like all the others!” She rushes to Shelly and insists on taking Ajax into her own arms.
“Alright then,” Alex says, quirking a brow toward me. “Ajax it is. What do you say we go get his bed and crate and food out of the car?”
“Okay,” Emily says, barely giving Alex attention. She’s so in love with her new puppy, I’m not sure any of the rest of us will ever exist again.
“Just like all the others?” Alex whispers in my ear as he reaches to help Emily give the puppy back to Shelly.
I shrug.
“We’ve had a lot of random pets called Ajax. A caterpillar, a cricket, two fish and four rocks. She always calls them Ajax, because she couldn’t say Alex when she was smaller. There hasn’t been a single other name introduced by her for any pet in years.”
Alex swallows at my explanation and spends a few extra seconds with both Emily and the puppy in his embrace. He’s finally able to convince Emily and Shelly to help him with the puppy’s things while I “babysit” the dog. Knowing Alex, he’s probably bought out the entire pet store for this little guy.
“Mommy, we need to ask you a very important question,” Emily announces as she traipses back into the house. She looks up and back over her shoulder, and I hear her whisper to Alex, “Did I do it right?”
“Just right,” he says with a wink. “But remember, we need to get your mom outside onto the deck.” Alex points his chin at the puppy. “Would you mind taking yourself and that little dog outside while we set something up?”
“Okay? Sure…?” That anxious patter is back in my chest, and I wonder how many puppies I can potty train at once. “Did you buy all three puppies? Is that what this is?”
I scoop up little Ajax hoping to God that’s not what Alex is about to reveal. I won’t be able to say no, but three puppies? That’s a lot.
“No.” Alex chuckles taking my hand in his and passes the puppy to Shelly as he walks me out to the rock. Emily catches up and holds my other hand, and before Alex can surprise me, our daughter gives it away, getting on her knee and holding an open jewelry box in her palm.
I gasp, and the tears hit my eyes hard and fast. “Mommy. Look.”
“Alex!” I burst out his name, and he falls to one knee, taking the ring from Emily as she climbs to sit on his bent leg.
“Will you marry me,” Alex says, adding, “will you marry us?”
Four words. Nothing more. Four utterly perfect words.
Us. He said us.
Throat closing, heart rushing into my head, all I can do is nod. Emily leaps up to clap and jump, tugging my hand closer to her daddy and pushing us together awkwardly.
We all start to laugh, and Shelly shouts “kiss, kiss, kiss” until Alex stretches his arm around my back and tilts me until my face is to the sky.
“More than the sun,” he says against my mouth before taking my lips with his in a kiss that is as raw and desperate as it is sure and steady.
I continue nodding, and glance at my aunt Shelly, who’s got tears streaming down her smiling face as Alex brings me back up to stand tall.
“Oh…wow… Alex…I…”
My answer is drowned with happy tears as he pushes the ring that was in the box onto my finger. It’s a perfect, obviously antique ring. Perfect for me. It’s platinum. One that has this nice patina to it. And there’s these tiny accent diamonds that wrap around what must be at least two carrots in the center.
“I just need the one yes from you,” Alex says through the softest, happiest and most hopeful smile I’ve ever seen. “What do you say?”
All I have ever wanted has just exploded into the real, and I can’t believe this is happening, that everything is working out—that he, and I, and the family I’ve waited so long to claim, might just be okay.
All of us. Together.
“Yes, Alex. Yes, Emily,” I choke out, unable to push back the wave of my own shaking, trembling surge of pure happiness that has become me and my voice. I scoop up Emily, who’s locked onto the squirming puppy. Alex’s arms wrap around all of us. Everyone’s smiling as I start bawling and laughing a
t the same time while the new puppy starts licking everyone’s faces. “I will marry you. Yes!”
11.
Alex, Present Day.
“Grady. Please. We’re brothers.” I stress the word how Father used to, grappling for shit that moves Grady, so I add, “We also have Father’s legacy to go through, and again, I’m sorry. I’ve said it over and over. I’m sorry. Please call me back. I want to bury the hatchet. Dude…I’m willing to pay. To make it right by you. I want to make it up to you. Please let me; I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I sigh out loud and long so he can hear my frustration on the message, and so I can make it sound like he’s won—because that’s what my brother needs to feel.
I’ve left message after message for Grady. Groveled and groveled, begged and begged. He must be loving this shit. And I’m sure he thinks he’s owed this kind of ass-kissing from me, but damn, his lack of response is concerning. It also makes me worry I’ve pushed him too far. Worse, when we’re finally face-to-face, his lack of response combined with what he did to Jojo has pushed me too far. I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up the charade or hold myself back.
It will nearly kill me to not pound him into the dirt all over again. The guy beat up and tried to rape the girl I’ve loved for my entire life.
But—fine. I’ll keep it together. I’ll do anything it takes. I’ll fake it and lie and lick his damn feet. Kiss his ass if needed. Because I’m going to marry Jojo tomorrow, and nothing else matters. My future is set in stone with love, with joy, and with more beauty and happiness than I could have ever imagined. All of that makes me more determined than ever to crack into my brother’s black soul and find his heart and fill it up however he needs, to make Jojo and Emily safe.
My plan is to make peace, and if not peace—because let’s be real, Grady and I have never once had that feeling between us—then I will nail his ass to the wall how my father taught me to do. I’ll lock him in with signed contracts and hand over enough of the inheritance and the control of the company to satisfy him, but keep enough hooks and stipulations inside my deals that state he’ll lose it all if he comes near my family ever again. One misstep, and he’ll lose it all—to me.
As I exit the private, key-entry-only elevator that takes me from the parking garage all the way to my penthouse, I head for my walk-in closet and grab my newest, hand-tailored tuxedo. I pull out a pressed tux shirt, grab some gold cufflinks, as well as every tux tie, vest and cummerbund set I own, and shove them in a duffel bag.
I grimace as I realize that I own a lot of them; the bag is stuffed full. But silently, for once, I thank my mother’s insistence. She set appointments with tailors for me regularly so that each year I could have a new set of tuxes, as well as a whole bunch of these ridiculous peacock accessories. I needed to be ready for all Sinclair events, including holiday parties and torturous dinners. I’ve worn this junk to a lot of them, but now Jojo will get to pick which ones she wants me to wear to our wedding.
A wedding that she’s planning. Tomorrow at the lake.
Jojo and I.
Jojo, and I, and our Emily.
My heart swells with anticipation and pride as well as utter disbelief that I could be this lucky, and then it starts thumping again with worry and fears. As my mother’s face and then Grady’s face flashes in my mind, I swallow the boulder that’s suddenly lodged in there. I wonder if maybe I’ll never get to tell Jojo how the lake is both hers and mine and has been for years.
Maybe it doesn’t even matter at this point?
If Grady resists, I’ll have to sign the lake and my lake house over to him. He won’t be able to resist it. It’s a trump card he’ll have to have.
Jojo and I worried over this point long into the early morning hours last night. She thinks letting go of the lake would be selling out my own heart. Hell, she’s right! Grady and my Father always planned to drain it and sell the water, then extract the oil out from underneath. She and I both know giving all of those rights away to Grady would be selling out Tacoma, too. It would be selling out my entire planet and everything I stand for.
But…fuck! Do I have any other choice? Not if we want to be a family, for Emily to be safe. She and I went over scenario after scenario, and we both decided that I will play my cards—the lake house and the aquifer—very close to my chest. For now, I’ll wait. Showing Grady that I care about anything other than Jojo would be like showing my brother a second Achilles heel when I already have a huge one exposed.
Jojo.
Grady knows she’s my weak point. I also need to save my strength and my protective focus for when my mother and Grady find out about Emily, because if we’re talking about weak points here, Emily’s appearance has ripped off my chest plate. I’ll burn down the world and all that comes with it to keep her safe.
I know Emily’s sudden presence could send my mother and Grady over the edge. Maybe not my mother, but Grady could take Emily personally. He could see her as some sort of inheritance threat, or worse, he could carry Father’s torch on the hatred, and the feud, and the years of wanting to crush any and all Wallaces, and he will lose his mind.
Packing up my tux into a traveling bag, I silently thank God yet again that my father’s dead and buried in the ground. I wish he were buried deeper. Under cement.
Emily’s appearance would have changed Father’s game. He would have considered her a monster. He told me over and over again while I was in high school that he would never permit a bastard born of me and a Wallace. It’s why I never slept with Jojo, not until that last night. It was one of Father’s many rules and commands: Do what you want with her but never, ever, risk knocking her up. His words, not mine.
It was one of the commands I’d meant to keep, too, simply because Jojo’s first time should have been with anyone other than her lying, Sinclair, fucked-up, fake boyfriend. Who murdered her father. Add that detail in and just…hell no! I swore to myself I’d never touch her like that. But when she asked me—begged me—took off her clothes and asked me again, I was weak. I let it happen because I wanted to be that guy with her just once, the kind she deserved, before I told her the truth.
We have Emily to show for it, a creature of perfection, of her mother’s heart and soul, and nothing terrible from me. I can’t imagine Emily not being on this earth. She is the best rule of my father’s that I ever broke.
Shaking off my thoughts, I drag everything I need for the wedding into the living room so I can spread it out and check off the list Shelly gave to me. After I get the tux, my next job is to land some flowers to bring back with me, and then I’ll be done.
My feet echo loudly on the marble, and as I drop the stuff on the leather couch, I look around, thinking that I won’t miss this place when I sign it over to Grady. It’s cold and stark and filled with everything that has made me sad. He can have it.
Realizing I need the fancy black socks that go with my outfit and the dumb, shiny shoes to complete it as well, I turn back, but as I head down the window-walled hallway, my eyes shift to the Tacoma city street below. I’m drawn to the sight like a magnet to metal. My mother’s Mercedes is below. No question, that is her car and that is my mother!
She’s staring up at my penthouse, stiff and unmoving, like a ghost or a zombie. Her face is drawn and pale, and she’s incredibly tense. I can tell by the rise in her shoulders and the stillness she stands with. Stiffer than normal. Maybe it’s the light, or the distance, but she looks positively unwell.
I grab my phone and command, “Call Mother.”
My mother picks up before the first ring is completed.
She was waiting for me to spot her. What the fuck?
“What are you doing?” I ask my mother. “I see you out there, and you don’t look good. Are you…sick? Are you just trying to come up?” I soften my tone. “Please, can you? Come up? I’ll buzz you in and fix you something.”
As much as I distrust her, I have also never seen her look like this.
“I can’t,” she say
s, voice tight. Still keeping my call connected, she quickly leaps back into her car as though she doesn’t want anyone to see her. She’s hiding from something. Grady?
Ever since the funeral, she’s been acting odd—looking odd—and behaving kind of crazy. I’ve left it alone, figuring it’s probably grief. I thought maybe my mother didn’t know how to function without my father beating her and telling her what to do. Now that Shelly and Jojo have told me that she’s been following Jojo around town and stalking the antique shop, I feel like I need to get to the bottom of her motives.
“Mother,” I say gently. “What are you doing? Why won’t you come up?”
“I…I’m not supposed to be here. It’s off schedule.”
“What do you mean? It’s your life. You can be anywhere you want.” I glance at the time; it’s around two, which is when my mom usually works out at her club. Maybe that’s what she means.
Changing the subject, I ask, “Have you heard from Grady?”
“Yes. What you did to him, Alex…he was hurt, and now he’s very upset. He thinks you tried to kill him.”
I did. I keep that blunt honesty to myself, though.
“He and I were just…overwrought. The funeral, you know.” I flush, feeling guilty, but more angry imagining how Grady probably cried like a little baby to Mother about how I’m a terrible person. I’m sure he never once mentioned to her that he tried to rape Jojo.
I take the higher ground and don’t bring it up. “I’m trying to apologize to him. I’m aware it got out of hand, and I want to make amends.”
Her breathing is heavy, like she’s stressed, or like she’s been running. I wonder again if she’s ill. “Mother—hey, are you okay?” I show my concern, something we rarely did while Father was alive, but by how she’s acting, my gut says I need to genuinely worry.