“Maybe. O’Shay’s Shirts exploded in the mid-90s and suddenly, thanks to the internet, I became small-town royalty. Which comes with its own set of issues. You actually know the people who say mean things. I was a teenager when Dad and Shug and Fritz built their dream homes. Mini mansions with gourmet kitchens, pools, tennis courts, and for Dad, a putting green. People actually accused them of fraud and laundering money. Never occurred to them how hard Dad, Fritz, and Shug worked. The music industry hadn’t started moving into HB yet so anything more than a three- or four-bedroom ranch was a mansion. Then Dad bought his dream sports car. Suddenly people who paid me no mind wanted to be my friend. But I still had a really good group of friends and high school was a blast. When the business was featured inForbes, some folks started the gossip mill again. Then actor Jesse Gates was seen in an O’Shay shirt and boom, everyone wanted an O’Shay. I’d just graduated but man, it was hard. Not the success, but how everyone treated us. It was like we didn’t belong anymore. Like we’d somehow betrayed the small town code. I think that’s why Shug is so involved. She wants to give back, prove money and some acclaim didn’t change us.”
“So then you know some of what life as a Blue is like. Maybe life, or even God, has prepared you to join our family.”
“Don’t like where you’re heading, little brother.” There was little affection in her term of endearment. But some. A dollop.
“Sorry, but my mission is to woo you into our fold.” John sipped his tea before it got cold. “Now that you know, aren’t you curious about Mum?”
“Maybe. Some. Yes. But I’m not sure I’m ready. I like my life. I like my travels. I like doing mission work I believe in. I like representing O’Shay’s Shirts and our foundations. You love your heritage, I love mine.”
“Yes, but you’re ignoring half of your heritage.”
“Am I? Seems my heritage ignored me.”
Well, she had him there. “So, you’re firm on not joining our family?”
“John, I have a family. I’m firm on one thing—my future with O’Shay’s. I will say now that I know more of my heritage, I understand myself a bit more.” She grinned as she raised her teacup. “It’s a wonder I’ve not imploded. All that Blue blood mixing with Irish green.”
John laughed, spewing a bit of his tea, and reached for a napkin. She was a hundred percent spot on.
“What about you?” Scottie said, her tone becoming more intimate. “How is your life after losing someone you love? Isn’t there some rule that you have to be married to be king?”
“Yes, but I made a deal with the queen. I’d come here and meet you, if she’d change the writ.”
“An ulterior motive. Should’ve known.”
“I’m glad I came, if you must know.”
“For the puppies and their beautiful rescuer?”
Yes. But no.“To meet you. I like you, if it matters.”
She regarded him for a moment. “It matters. I like you too.”
Good. They’d reached another level of common ground. “I’m not sure she’d want this known,” John said. “But the queen hasn’t been well. She spent a few days in the hospital. She’s home now, recovering I believe, but if you have wanted an ulterior motive to meet your mother, realize life is short, Scottie.”
Scottie stood and looked out the window where a pack of midday blustery clouds promised rain.
“Is her condition serious?”
“I don’t think so. Probably just complications from some bug or virus.”
She looked back at John. “It’s easy for you to come here because nothing really changes for you. So you have a thirty-five-year-old big sister. But I have a mother I never knew existed. I have brothers and a stepfather. It changes everything for me. I’m not sure… I don’t know… I should jump at this chance, right? What kid doesn’t want to meet her once-dead mama? But I’m not a girl. Or a teen. Or some unloved, abandoned woman. I had a great childhood. I have a great family. I know this life. I don’t know yours. And if I open up the door to meet her, what dominoes will fall? What will change? I’m a planner, John.”
“I understand. All I ask is you don’t close all the doors and windows to Mum. Keep one cracked open for a chance to meet one day.”
An employee knocked and entered. Scottie answered the man’s questions about a marketing proposal as John finished his tea and set the mug on the table.
“I should go. You have work to do.”
“I promise to think about it.” Scottie retrieved his box of shirts. “These come with a money-back guarantee.”
He laughed softly. “Can I say one more thing? And I’m not trying to push or manipulate but I think Mum would want you to know she did what she thought best. Saving you from being the queen’s illegitimate daughter. From being ridiculed. From being divided between families and nations. If you knew my mother, she would’ve gladly braved all of those things and guided you through them, but she was a crown princess and some decisions were simply not in her command.”
“Do you think I was ever really taken into consideration?”
“Yes, I do. But the question you have to ask yourself is, ‘What now?’ Can’t change the past, Scottie. What’s done is done. But you can change the future with the information you have, and if you don’t, that’s on you.”
“And if I engaged in a relationship with the Family now, do you think I’ll avoid any firestorm or gossip?”
