So, this was a team effort. Gus made his way down the familiar hall and gave a small knock before letting himself inside. He spied Sunday sitting in a chair by the window. She glanced up when he entered but quickly looked away. Ford sat behind the desk. Porter was nowhere in sight.
“Can you close the door.” Ford looked about as serious as he’d seen the man. It wasn’t a question.
After he closed the door, Gus faced his brother and sister. “I’m assuming you’ve talked to your father?”
Ford glanced at his sister and then settled onto Gus. “Take a seat.”
Gus bristled at his brother’s tone, and if this were any other time and place — any other situation — he would have told the guy to go fuck himself. Politely, of course. Instead, Gus took the chair opposite Sunday and looked at Ford expectantly.
“Our father had an interesting story for us.”
Gus didn’t reply as Ford sat back, his hands triangled in front of his face.
“I see the resemblance now. Surprised I didn’t see it sooner, to be honest. You look just like Uncle Marshall.”
The dig wasn’t subtle, and Gus felt every word of it.
“You came to Fire Lake nearly three months ago. And not once did you indicate to me or to Sunday your true self. I don’t understand the subterfuge. Why wait? Why now?” His brother was angry and made no effort to hide it. “What’s your end game here?”
“I didn’t have a plan when I came here. Wasn’t sure this conversation would ever happen.”
Sunday muttered something, but he couldn’t quite make it out. She got to her feet and walked to the window, giving him herprofile. Her complexion was off. Too white, and he felt like a shit for being the cause.
“Then why did you?” Ford’s lips thinned, and the look on his face was anything but friendly. Gus sank back into his chair. He considered his words carefully. He knew it was crunch time. Only the truth would work. There was no room for anything else.
“I was in New York on business and read an article in the paper.”
“An article brought you to Fire Lake?” Ford didn’t believe him.
Gus nodded. “It was about the Catskills. It mentioned this estate and it got me to wondering. I guess I was curious to see the place I spent the first seven years of my life.”
“There’s a big gap between the age of seven and thirty-three.”
“Thirty-two. Technically, I’ve got a couple of weeks before the big day.” He kept his tone light, but the look on Ford’s face darkened.
“There’s nothing here for you.” Ford tossed a pen onto the desk. “The family estate and business belong to Sunday and me. You and the others have no claim on any of it.”
“None of us need a fucking dime, got it? We don’t want any of this, and I’m not here to heal a fucking rift that I never made. This is on the old man.” Angry, Gus got to his feet. His hands were fisted, but he kept them at his side. Enough of the bullshit. He faced his brother so that there would be no mistaking his words.
“But there are a few things you need to know. First off, theothershave names and they areyoursiblings. You share blood with them, for fuck’s sake. They have faces. Lives that matter. Oliver is on track to become a surgeon. He’s gifted. Works at County in DC. He’s serious a lot of the time, but when he lets loose, his humor is something else.” He shoved his hands intothe front pockets of his slacks. “Harry is the dreamer in the family. He wants to save the world one country at a time. He could have played pro ball, he was that good. Man, his arm was something else. But one summer spent in Africa changed his life, and he gave up football for a bedroll and a tent and the desire to make a difference. He looks a lot like you.”
Ford was silent, and he felt Sunday’s gaze upon him.
“Now Iris, she’s the one who is going to surprise us all. She’s got a lot of fire and spunk along with a healthy dose of attitude. She constantly gets into trouble and listens to no one. She’s here in town because of that attitude. Because she wants to meet you.”
“Iris is here?” Sunday’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“What abouther?” Ford bit out, ignoring his sister’s question. “What doesshethink about all this?”
“I think our mother would like the chance to speak to you herself. To tell her side of the story. Neither one of our parents is clean in all of this.”
“What is there to tell?” Sunday took a few steps toward him, and Gus saw her pain. “She abandoned us. She split our family in two and now she thinks because she’s sorry that we’re all going to play family and be nice and forgive her for being a shit mother?”
Gus gave her a sharp look. “I think that there are three sides to every story. Porter’s. My mom’s. And the truth is somewhere in the middle. I grew up thinking that Porter Boone was the kind of bastard I could never reconcile with. The kind of man who didn’t fight for his family. The kind of man I could never respect or even have a conversation with. But I was wrong. He’s flawed. Our mother is flawed. Both of those things are true but there are six of us who are linked by blood and that means something.”
“No,” Sunday whispered. She turned to her brother. “I can’t, Ford. I won’t ever forgive her.” She looked at Gus one last time and left them alone.
“I’m sorry for upsetting Sunday, and I know this a fucked-up situation, but our brothers and Iris deserve the right to heal this rift if they want to . . . and you must want closure. Don’t you?”
