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ChapterTwenty-Six
Chase
“This place looks really different,” I said as my gaze arced around the living room at my friend Archer’s house.
Archer grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I updated it. We got the kitchen, the bedroom, and the main bath done right off, but it's only been in the past month or two that Amelia and Lucy could finish the rest. They do good work. If you get behind on your house, they're the ones to call.”
“Well, I know that,” I said. “But they're booked out forever.”
Archer chuckled. I glanced around again, shifting my shoulders.
“I promise my cousin's a good guy,” he commented.
I'd known Archer since elementary school. He'd moved away and only returned this year, but we'd easily fallen back into our old friendship. He was a solid, honest, loyal guy.
Just then, Phoebe, Archer’s old childhood best friend and now his wife, came down the stairs, calling out, “Rhys is a great guy. You’ll like him.”
I looked over at Phoebe as she entered the room. Beyond growing up with her, we also worked together as hotshot firefighters.
Archer gestured toward the large sectional with one side facing the windows and the other the fireplace. “Let's sit.”
Phoebe plunked down on the couch beside Archer, and he curled his arm around her shoulders. I sat down on the other side at an angle across from them.
“Your dad is your dad in every way that matters,” Phoebe said.
I took a quick breath, letting it out in a sigh. “It’s definitely a strange situation.”
“Like I told you,” Archer began as he leaned forward. “Rhys’s dad was also a great guy.”
“Speaking of strange, we're cousins,” I pointed out.
Archer chuckled. “I know. How's your father handling all of it?”
“You know my dad. He's rolling with it. I think he's suspected all along but was never sure.”
“Why do you say that?” Phoebe prompted.
“When I was younger, I didn't talk about my mom much. I don’t like talking about it now, but my mom wasn’t around too often. I thank God every day for my dad because he was completely stable, the best father I could have asked for.”
“Your dad's awesome,” Archer said with a quick nod. “Maybe this is trite, but I think it's true. Family is what you make it. It really is.”
“I know. It's not that I don't believe that, but this was a shock for me.”
Just then, the doorbell rang, a low chime echoing from the entrance into the living room.
“I'll get it.” Phoebe stood quickly.
I watched as she hurried across the living room. The main entrance was visible from here through a wide archway.
Archer’s eyes met mine again. “You okay?”
I nodded. I had come to a shaky peace with this detail about my life. It was more my mother's deception that remained a stinging splinter in my thoughts and emotions.
A man stepped through the doorway. He shared Archer’s coloring with dark blond hair and silvery-gray eyes. Phoebe hugged him, and they walked together into the living room.
The man met my eyes, the man I knew to be Rhys, my half brother. He dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Hi there.”
I stood from the couch, tension tightening my stomach. We looked at each other. Although I was nervous, I felt okay. My lips tugged into a smile. “So we meet,” I finally said.
