Finally, his brother relented. They hugged and banged each other on the back. He vowed to himself to never again shut his family out.
“Thank fuck that’s done. You’re such an asshole, Bran. Maybe now we can get this problem figured out. I miss River... all the sisters, of course.”
“I don’t know how anything can be figured out. Don’t you think I’ve tried to find ways to forgive Raven? I can’t breathe, sleep, eat... fucking think... without her.”
“Since you’ve been hiding, did you know that none of the girls have spoken to any of us? Including Jo? Did you know that they quit— refused payment for the work they already did?
“They even sent files to the O’Connors, enough designs and drawings, and whatever else to finish the damn bar? But we’ve heard from none of them. No one. Dad told me last night that he was going to Eufaula today after we met with James.”
Bran was stunned. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t wanted to know. “But... it’s been well over a month... almost two! Surely Dad had to speak with Rowan about the wall for Grandpa.”
“She emailed detailed instructions to Jo before they went radio silent. They were extremely detailed. In fact, they included design renderings. Raven and River’s notes, files, and contacts for goods they’d already sourced were sent to Jo as well. The whole project has continued running smoothly. They did all the work.”
“But they... there was no remuneration at all?”
Bran could understand wanting to leave the job because of how things had ended with him and Raven. The time they had to have spent after the breakup, the meticulous detail Patrick said they offered... His thoughts were spinning.
They quit but didn’t quit. It sounded like they completed the damn job and refused a fucking penny for the work. Why do that?
Patrick placed stacks of pancakes on three plates. Dad must be on his way.
“I want you to know that whether you can fix things with Raven or not, I will talk to River again.”
Dad walked in then and grabbed his plate, not bothering to go into the dining room but sat down at one of the kitchen island barstools.
“Dad said that even if Rowan keeps hiding from him, he plans on forcing her to speak to him. We’ve texted all three sisters intermittently for weeks with no response. After James leaves, I’m calling River. If she doesn’t pick up, I’ll make her listen to voicemails every hour.”
Jesus, this morning was full of revelation. “Why have you been trying to get ahold of Rowan, Dad? Patrick said she sent detailed notes to Jo about how she wanted Grandpa’s memorial.”
Frowning, he looked up from his pancakes. “I don’t like the font for the placards.”
Okay... Dad giving a shit about fonts. What in the ever-loving hell was happening this morning? Dad ate his breakfast like it was his last meal. He wouldn’t answer any more of Bran’s questions, guaranteed.
“So,” Patrick continued to hammer, “just so we’re clear, Dad and I are going to talk to the girls. Today.”
“Perfectly clear.” If clear looked like a fucking mud-bottom pond.
James arrived thirty minutes later. It was a sunny morning, so they sat on the patio overlooking Dad’s pond and the river beyond it.
“I’ve already apologized to Dad and Pat for my behavior, James. Before we talk about whatever you need to talk to me about, I would also apologize to you. I’m sorry for the past few weeks. I haven’t been myself since... that night.”
James took a sip of his unsweetened iced tea, carefully setting down the Solo cup like he was handling fine china.Everyone was off these days— probably not as off as Bran— but off. He felt like his life was some alternate universe.
“Forgiven.”
It didn’t appear James was lying, but his focus wasn’t on the apology. However, James’ preoccupation with his phone was getting awkward. Bran glanced at his family. They both raised their eyebrows and shrugged their shoulders.
Finally, James seemed to come to a decision. He clenched his hands into fists on either side of his phone a few times before picking the device up— a deep breath, then a simple swipe to open things up. After clearing his throat, phone gripped in one hand, James finally looked at Bran.
“I can forgive you easily, Bran, because I’ve been going through the exact same thing you have, only far longer.”
“Jane?” Bran could hardly believe it. He always assumed James might have cheated and was too ashamed to admit it or that she had wanted more of a commitment than James was willing to give. He’d always hoped they would get back together.
“I was going to ask her to marry me.”
“Jesus,” Patrick said.
“Fuck, James. I’m sorry you didn’t tell us. We would have been there for you.”
