“Sure, and then I can have a chat with Ford about his whereabouts…”
I waved my hand back at her as I headed toward my room and the shower.
“Steven will be here to see the suits,” Scotty called after me. I didn’t respond.
Later, suited and microphoned up, I endured an interview with a national news station while sitting on the apartment’s love seat. The interviewer spoke about the contributions my dad made to the country while raising his family. Of course, I couldn’t help but think of James.
“Your dad always spoke so highly of his family time. Do you have a memory that sticks out in your mind?” the broadcaster asked me, and I thought about how Dad didn’t know any of my friends or what classes I’d taken in college.
Scotty had wanted to go into politics since he dressed up as the president for Halloween in the fifth grade, and my dad concentrated all his energy on him. I loved my dad because he was a good person and served his country in a way that would never be forgotten. But no, I didn’t have memories like that. The only person who knew I felt this way was James.
In the moment, I looked at Scott to answer, and of course he waxed on about my dad teaching him everything he knew about the judicial system and being fair.
My thoughts wandered back to the night before and Jamie. I hadn’t texted because I’d been under a microscope all day. The memorial service would be held a week from today, and then I couldn’t wait to get back to my life in California, where I lived freely.
Jamie’s life was here, and while I’d thought I could handle being around my family, I couldn’t. I hadn’t made any promises to her, but I wasn’t sure I could.
Thankfully, my brother commandeered the remainder of the interview, hitting all the points my mom requested—no, demanded.
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” I whispered to Billy as we left the living room of the apartment and went to the back bedroom after the interview. “Because Mom is bound and determined to rewrite history,” I added as I looked out the window, wondering if I could make things right with James.
Billy laughed at my joke, and then asked the million-dollar question only she had the balls to ask me to my face. “Are you going to tell me what nice things you were having last night, big bro?” She turned to face me after closing the door. “You know, Mom mentioned you met with an old friend. She was less than happy. ‘Some poor social climber.’ Mom’s words, not mine.”
“Mom has no clue.”
“Oh, I think she does. Said the poor girl was always trying to get her hooks into you, and now she has the nerve to work in the hospital our family built. Mentioned how she should have her fired. Again, her words, not mine.”
A chill ran through me. This was how my mom operated, bulldozing any roadblocks she perceived to be in her way.
“Are you going to answer me? Because I looked at the hospital website, and it turns out little Jamie Silver works there. Remember your playmate? You two did everything together… I liked her. She was so sweet, but way too timid for you.”
“Enough,” I told her. “You’re the baby sister, and don’t forget it. You don’t get to come after me.”
Of course, Billy got right in my face and eyed me down. “I seem to remember you mentioning you never got to say goodbye to Jamie when you rushed to rescue me in Europe. I hate to think I was the reason for you losing touch.”
“You weren’t,” I said too emphatically for my liking. Moving to the sofa, I sat down, elbows on my knees, gaze on the floor. “That was all me.”
“Hmm,” Billy said, arms crossed in front of her, her long blond hair tied up in some up-do thing. No one could deny we were siblings. We looked exactly alike. Dusty blond hair, blue eyes, medium complexion thanks to our Pap’s wife who was Italian. Although I got Dad’s height, and Billy was smaller-framed like Mom.
“Did you know she worked at the hospital?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t kept up with James for a reason. We ended poorly. I ended whatever we were poorly.”
“So, what? She sought you out? Mom is going to figure everything out, you know?”
“Bill…” I stood and paced. “Mom doesn’t know jack shit about my life, and she’s not going to. I’m so sick of her bullshit.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Did she come looking for you? I mean, Jamie?”
“No, she didn’t. I gave her every reason not to. We bumped into one another. Literally smacked into one another in the hallway. I went apeshit, seeking her out, and now I’ll probably cost her the job she worked so hard to earn on her own.” The thought made me sick to my stomach, so much so that I ran a palm over my shirt-covered abdomen and told myself to forget James.
“You would never let Mom do that to her. Come on, you’re Ford, the most overprotective man I know.”
“Billy, cut it out. Let’s get this week over with. I don’t know why Mom had to wait so long to have the memorial.”
“She wanted a full week of media coverage.”
“Of course. Scott’s going to make a play for the White House.”
