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I drop it, not having the capacity to deal with more crap tonight. Truth is, my relationship with Caius has suffered since Dad died, since he changed the will the way he did. Caius has told me repeatedly that I’m imagining it, that nothing is different, but it is.
I tripled the stipend Dad left for him and have made him my equal as far as making decisions and running shit for the family, but ultimately, it’s my name on the bottom line and we both know it. Dad also added a single damning clause that I’ve talked to the lawyer about undoing but so far, no luck. The Augustine fortune can only be handed down to my offspring. A male heir, ideally, but, if in a bind, a female will do. Dad was old-fashioned. But only my children can inherit. I’ve added my own clause to make sure my brother and his eventual family are taken care of. It doesn’t make it any less shitty that Dad did it, though.
On top of that, I still have what happened between Madelena and me on my mind, how this night went. Not to mention Madelena asking what we have on her father. That’s not going to go away. I’m going to have to figure out how to answer her eventually, because she can’t ever discover the truth.
Once we get to the top, we stand at the large window that spans the circumference of the lighthouse and look out. Caius whistles.
“Holy hell. You can see the end of the world up here.”
“Yeah.” It’s an inadequate response to the magnitude of what we’re seeing. Given the storm, I can imagine it on a clear day. But it is exactly the storm that makes it so fucking incredible. The power of nature, the smallness of man, our impermanence. It’s all right here, right in our fucking faces.
But that’s not why I came.
Caius moves to the heavy metal door that leads out to the catwalk that circles the lighthouse. It’s under construction that’s been halted for weather. He tests the lock. It’s secure though. Kids may have broken the lock below but down there is different than up here. Here, the past lingers.
He moves back to the windows and peers down onto the cliffs. “Fuck, I hate heights.”
“You’re indoors,” I remind him, although I know he doesn’t do well with heights.
“Still hate them. You think she felt herself falling? Crashing?”
It’s a strange question, especially coming from him. Has he thought about what happened here?
“I hope not.”
He glances at me, but I keep my gaze out over the water.
Madelena’s mother committed suicide when Madelena was five years old. The story is that she’d brought Madelena with her, planning on taking her over the edge right along with herself, but for some reason, she hadn’t. The note she’d left behind had been written before she’d changed her mind, which was how they’d known she’d meant to end her daughter’s life along with her own.
It had taken them hours to find Madelena wandering around up here, freezing without a proper coat or shoes. I think she’d have been too small to see out of the windows, to see her mother’s broken body below. But would she have seen her fall? The thought chills me through.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Caius says as if feeling the same thing I am. “And it’s fucking freezing. You’ve seen it. And I will agree that the view is something else, but can we go? Besides, I’ve got a sweet piece waiting for me,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“The woman I saw you with. What’s her name?” I ask, wanting to lighten the mood.
“Ana something. Don’t much care,” he says, and he starts to descend the stairs.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Yep. And I’m okay with it.” He stops when we get to the bottom and turns to me. “Don’t worry about Mom. I’ll keep her off your back. She’s just anxious to get things finalized.”
“Finalized. You make it sound like a business transaction. We’re talking about a baby.”
“And you have to keep thinking of it that way too, brother.”
“Not to mention the woman who will have to carry the child of a man she hates.”
“An heir,” he says, making a point of using the word. “An heir cements our place no matter what happens. Besides, she could have done worse. It could be me in your shoes, and I can tell you I wouldn’t be half as considerate.”
We stand like that in the aftermath of his words, each of us studying the other. I think how sometimes, it’s as though I don’t know Caius. There’s a side of him he keeps from me. From everyone.
“Let’s go back, brother,” he says, turning from me to walk toward the stairs. I watch him go and think how little I like the idea of him in my shoes where Madelena is concerned.
