Iris tugged on her ball cap and tucked a piece of hair behind her ears. “What are you going to tell her?”
“The truth.”
“I take it you haven’t had a heart to heart with our father?”
He didn’t answer, which pretty much told the story.
“I saw Sunday the other day.” Iris’s voice dropped. “I know it was her because she looks so much like Mom.” She picked at the label on the bottle. “She’s really pretty.”
“Where?”
“Downtown at the café near the park. She was there with a woman and a kid.” Iris looked over the lake and shrugged. “She walked by me when she left. Looked right at me and there was nothing.” Iris’s voice shook. “I didn’t expect to feel anything, you know? But it was weird, and I guess, I was kinda sad. I have this beautiful sister who doesn’t know me.” She looked at Gus. “Like, does she even know I exist?”
Gus wasn’t sure he had the words to make Iris feel better, so he stayed quiet.
“Our family is so fucked up. Like, royally fucked up. They could make a reality show about the Boones, and I bet we’d be number one.” She played with that strand of hair. “She seemed so nice and normal and happy, but she also seemed sad orsomething.” She was quiet for a few seconds, then glanced up. “I want to meet them.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “You will. Give me the weekend to let Mom know what’s going on. No sense in jumping the gun now.”
“She’s not going to like it.”
“She’s going to hate it.”
Gus was done with his coffee. With one last look at the lake, he turned to head back to his truck. He might as well grab his tools and get started on things. He took exactly two steps when he spied Ford watching him from the upper deck off the kitchen. There was no avoiding it, so he held up his hand in acknowledgment.
Ford waved him over and Gus walked up the stairs until he reached the main deck. His brother wore a T-shirt and sweatpants, and his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Morning,” Ford said. “Coffee?”
He should decline and go about his day but found himself agreeing. “I could use another.”
“I’m headed back for number two. Come in and fix yours. We’ve got cream, milk, sugar. Whatever you need.”
In the entire time he’d been at the estate, Gus hadn’t stepped foot inside the house. He paused at the threshold, unprepared because it felt like walking back in time. Nothing had changed. Not even the color of the paint on the walls. The appliances might have been newer, but that was about it, as far as he could tell.
Gus caught sight of him and Ford in the mirror on the opposite wall. It was startling to see them together. Both built the same, and yet there were differences. Ford’s features were more refined, and his light hair and blue eyes lent an air of polish Gus would never achieve.
Ford poured Gus a cup and then leaned against the counter with his. “The cottages are well ahead of schedule.”
Gus nodded. “The guys have put in the time, and we’ve been lucky with the weather.”
“So, you’ll be wrapping up when exactly?”
“A few weeks, I think. We’ve got a fair bit of painting on the outside of the cottages so if the weather holds there should be no delays.”
“I see.” Ford stared down into his cup. “Are you sticking around Fire Lake after this job is done?”
“Unsure at this point.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job, and I know a lot of folks in the area if you’re looking to continue contracting. I’m more than happy to provide a reference.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Gus tried his best to stay on an even keel, but something inside was shifting. Expanding. It made the guilt and subterfuge harder to deal with.
“Since our estate manager did the hiring, I don’t know that much about you other than the obvious. You’ve served our country and you’re good with a hammer.” Ford was relaxed, his smile easy. “Where are you from? I detect a bit of an accent.”
This was hitting close.
“Boston area,” Gus replied.
