AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s…surprising, to be honest. Although I never would have accused him of being the kind of guy who’d ignore a distress call from his mother, I would have thought he’d send someone else. Give the task to an underling.
My hand rises to my chest, where I’m once again wearing the ring on the chain under my sweater.
“Would you like to have a cup of coffee while he deals with that racket?” Mrs. Royce asks.
“Yes, please,” I tell her, “and while you’re at it, I’d very much like to see any childhood albums you might have lying around. If you have embarrassing stories, all the better.”
She gives me a bright smile. “There’s nothing I’d like better.”
I’ll bet Shane won’t approve. He doesn’t seem like he’d be into the recitation of stories about how he used to eat his own buggers or stripped naked in the middle of a ballgame. Then again, he brought me here. So maybe this is what he wanted.
I follow her through the hall, walking slowly because the walls are lined with dozens of framed photos of the Royce family.
This is the Shane I remember. Lanky Shane. Zitty Shane. Dungeons & Dragons Shane. There’s even a shot of Shane and Danny with Mr. Royce, each of them carting a bicycle. Other photos show all three Royces, smiling for the camera. Mr. Royce had Shane’s hazel eyes, and his hair was the same dark brown. It hadn’t been given enough time to turn white or do more than take on a couple of grey hairs, a thought that puts a lump in my throat. So does the trip down memory lane, which is awakening more emotions I’d thought I’d killed.
Mrs. Royce leads me into the dining room, where there’s an old craft table surrounded by four chairs. A line in the middle suggests a leaf has been removed. It’s not a messy house, but everywhere I look, there is…stuff is probably the best word. A pile of cozy-looking blankets. A stand full of magazines so old I see Prince William with hair on one of them. Novels stacked on top of novels on shelves. Doo-dads lined up on the windowsills.
It hits me that this is the room where it must have happened. This is where Shane’s father collapsed. The thought is like a punch to the chest, because I can imagine it better now that I’m here. This is a warm home, a place where a family lived, and their lives were torn from them. I’m not surprised it still hurts.
The alarm stops assailing our ears, and Mrs. Royce gives a sigh of relief as she waves me toward the table. “Take a seat, honey. I’m glad to finally meet you.” She glances back in the direction of the front door, looking a little befuddled now. “But where’s Danny? I haven’t seen him in a while, but Shane tells me he’s got himself a girl. Your brother has always been such a sweet boy.”
I can’t help but smile at the thought of Shane telling his mother such a thing. “He does have a girlfriend,” I confirm. “But Danny’s not here with us this morning. I…”
Well, shit. What am I supposed to tell her?
I’m your son’s wife. Surprise!
I’m in a fake relationship with Shane. Sort of. We really did get married, and we really are sleeping together, so I’m not sure where that leaves us. All I know is that I’m softening toward him, and that’s always ended badly for me with other men.
I clear my throat. “Your son was helping me with something when he got your message.”
She gives a fond smile, holding the top of one of the chairs, and I see it again in my head—Mr. Royce walking in and dropping the sauce pot. Mr. Royce collapsing while Shane and his mother could do nothing but watch. “My boy is so good to me. I’m lucky to have him.”
Again, I have a sense of left-is-right and up-is-down. Then again, most people’s mothers like them, mine being the obvious exception. Is it really so surprising that Shane’s mom thinks he’s the second coming? He had to pick up that attitude from somewhere.
That’s unfair, though. He has some grandiose ideas, but there’s more to him than that, and he’s been showing it to me. I’ve seen that the boy in those photos is still a part of Shane—a buried part. A part he’s taught himself to be ashamed of.
I think again of how she greeted me. “How’d you know I’m Danny’s sister?”
“Oh,” she says with a smile. “Shane’s always after me to update the photos. He says it’s not healthy to surround myself with them. Last year he brought in one of you and Danny and your sweet little girl and put it up in his room. He stays here sometimes, you know.”
Well, crack my heart open and fry it like an egg. I feel like someone fed me that egg, actually, and I’m choking on it. He put up a photo of me in his bedroom? Months ago? This man is as transparent as concrete. Leave it to me to choose such a complicated man, one I need a lexicon to understand.
“He stays here?” I ask, thinking of that empty, clean-freak house of his.
“It’s hard for me to be alone in this big house,” she says, her tone soft. “He’ll stay for a night or two when he knows I’m struggling.” She pauses, studying me, then says, “I know you were married to Rand Callaghan for a while. His parents live in the neighborhood. They’re…”
She seems at a loss for words, so I help her out. “They’re not very nice, are they?”
“Goodness, no,” she says, shaking her head. “That boy could have murdered someone, and they would have dug a shallow grave and paid off anyone who found it.”
Sounds about right.
Sighing, I say, “Well, I don’t have anything to do with them anymore.”
“Neither do I,” she says. “Not after he and my son got into that scuffle several years back.”
“What?” I ask, immediately on high alert. I’d never heard about any scuffle. I’d known about their mutual dislike, but that hadn’t come as a surprise. Rand hadn’t appreciated any of the men in my life, my brother included. And, from Shane’s point of view, Rand was a silver spoon kid, guilty of being successful without having earned it. At the time, I’d thought it was sour grapes, but go figure, he’d been right. For a while, I’d resented him for that, for warning me about something he’d been right about. Now, though…
