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That’s when I crack, and I’m on my feet, angrily snatching the tumbler away from Robert. I only mean to take it, but the momentum of the movement and the slick crystal make it slip through my fingers, and I accidentally throw it across the room to shatter against the stone fireplace. “Oops!” But however unintentional, the dramatics work, getting all eyes on me. I decide to act like I totally meant to do that and hiss at Robert, “He’s telling the truth, and you’re too much of an asshole to believe him. Just because you decided a long time ago to write him off doesn’t mean everyone else should.”
“Poppy!” Caylee protests, but I keep going.
I point at Connor. “I loved him when I thought he was a petty thief. I loved him when I thought he was an art thief, and I love him now that I know the truth . . . that he works undercover for the feds. What a pity that his own flesh and blood can’t love him the same as someone he met only a few weeks ago.” My voice has gotten louder with each ugly accusation until I’m yelling at them all and standing in front of Connor protectively, ready to fight for his honor.
Debra’s eyes are wide, likely not used to anyone talking to her like this. Or maybe it’s that she’s not accustomed to having a screaming banshee in her living room? She stands up, not moving toward us but not able to stay in her seat either.
“Wait, what? I’m lost . . . petty theft, art, FBI? What do you mean you only met a few weeks ago?”
Connor sighs behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His voice is flat and hard as he tells his mom, “That’s what you got out of what Poppy told you?”
Debra blinks rapidly, still stunned. “Well, give me a minute. This is a lot to take in.”
Robert huffs. “You’re not actually believing this, are you?”
But when Debra looks from her husband to her son, something happens. She sees the truth, that Robert is a shell of his former self, the good man Connor has told me he once was, and that her son is standing in front of her with all his walls down, simply asking his mother for love.
“I do, Robert,” she says quietly, turning away from her husband one last time to focus on her son. “Please tell me, Connor. I think I need to know. And Poppy’s right, I think you need to tell us.”
She gestures to the couch with an open hand and pleading eyes.
I can feel Connor trying to decide, his heart pounding against my back. I won’t make this decision for him or even encourage him one way or the other. It’s his call.
He can keep throwing grenades, precisely aimed to do the most damage, or he can begin to truly explain, with softer words and truth.
But when he moves toward the couch, taking my hand to bring me with him, I’m relieved. I think he’s got a chance at repairing things with his mom. His dad is an entirely different issue, but if he can get his mom to listen, I think it’ll help them both.
Sitting down, Connor takes a steadying breath.
“It started in high school. I was doing stupid shit, shoplifting and pickpocketing. The reasons . . . don’t matter now. Some of the stuff you know, and some you don’t. That’s when I got busted and you bailed me out. After that, I was hurt, really hurt, so I moved on to bigger and better jobs—stealing art.”
“Art?” Evan asks, and Connor nods. “Like The Thomas Crown Affair?”
“Something like that, I guess, but a lot less sexy,” Connor answers, which I disagree with, but I’ll keep that to myself for now. Connor looks back at his mother. “I got good. Really good.”
Debra is listening intently, and though he’s not looking at Connor, Robert is paying close attention too.
“I worked my way up, starting with pieces worth thousands of dollars, then hundreds of thousands of dollars, and worked for some really shady people.”
Caylee pales, her chin trembling. “That sounds dangerous, Connor.”
He nods. “It was. A few times, I figured I’d had it.”
Debra lets out a soft cry at that and takes Robert’s hand.
“About ten years ago or so, I was on a job, and an agent found me. He could’ve arrested me right then and there, but he saw an opportunity for both of us. I’m not bragging, but I’m good at stealing. I feel like Granddad’s watching over me every time.”
That gets Robert’s eyes to focus on Connor. “Dad?”
Connor nods, addressing his father for the first time. “You remember, he taught me all those magic tricks as a kid? Those skills, they’re like the foundation. This is a way I can honor that, feel close to him.”
