“Too late. I signed a contract.”
“Contract? He made you? So much for trust.”
“It was to protect me as much as him. I’m relocating for the sake of his restaurant. I want certain assurances.”
“Like salary if it folds.”
“It won’t fold, Maggie. Why did you have to say that? See, there’s another Mom thing, pessimism when it comes to her kids. Someone else can make the same move, and it’d be great, abrilliantmove, but if it’s one of us, she finds fault. The restaurant won’t fold. Edward studied every angle of the town before he agreed to the deal, including the feasibility of a restaurant.”
“But the Inn already has two restaurants,” I said, “and it’s not pessimism. It’s pragmatism.”
“Okay. Fine. Pragmatic, then. Of the two restaurants at the Inn, one is a family tavern serving comfort food, and the other serves high-end American cuisine. What else is there? Rasher and Yolk, which is an upscale diner and closes at 2P.M.? A steak place that serves great steak and soggy salad? A pizza place that, frankly, sucks? I’m telling you, there’s a market here for something else. Edward and I talked about it for months before deciding on a French bistro with a Mediterranean feel. It’ll betrendy and healthy and affordable. I wouldn’t have come up here if I hadn’t thought it would succeed.”
I had never heard my brother sound as passionate or articulate orknowledgeableabout anything before.
“The contract,” he went on when I had no comeback, “is in case of flood, fire, or Armageddon, and if it’s the last, I probably won’t care, but what the hell.” Opening the refrigerator door, he leaned in. “Seriously. I’m hungry. What do you have?”
“Leftover beef stew.”
“That’s it?”
“I’m not the chef.”
“I’ll shop tomorrow.” His phone dinged again. “After someone tows my car.” He checked the phone, put it away. “Actually, I can use your car.”
“Actually,” I said, “it’s a truck, and I need it myself. I’ll give you the name of a tow guy. So.” I took a tentative breath. “Where are you staying?”
He spread his hands,here,and skimmed my home with his eyes.
I laughed. “Uh, I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is my home, and it’s small.”
“You’d turn me out in the rain? With no car?”
“You can sleep here tonight, but if you’re staying in Devon, you’ll need your own space. There are some great places on the other side of town. This one’s mine.”
“Don’t you want me here?” he asked.
“No, Liam. I don’t. I’m not Mom.”
“But I’m family,” he reasoned.
I held his gaze hard. “So am I.”
It was a minute before he got it. “Ah. You’re holding a grudge.”
“I’m remembering when I told Mom that Edward and I were getting divorced, and she said I couldn’t live with her. You said nothing, Liam.”
“She couldn’t deal. Dad had just died. She was in mourning.”
My eyes went wide. “So. Was. I.”
We stared at each other for a long, awkward time, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook. He had been an adult back then, no child, and he had been wrong. I could appreciate his loyalty to Mom, but when it was misplaced? With Dad gone and him her prince, he should have stepped up and tried to reason with her. If anyone had a chance of succeeding, it was Liam. And if he failed, he should have risen above and kept in touch with me whether she liked it or not.
He hadn’t risen above. And yet, here he was, bringing a visceral familiarity into my home.
