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“I guess there’s no way to let this sit here until morning.”
“We could. But I know you. You’ll hate yourself for putting it off. What did you think of Janet?”
“She reminds me a lot of Kate. Before you yell at me for making that comparison, she’s deep into her animal rights causes and social events, mostly horse shows and galas stemming from horse shows. She ticked off no less than twelve charitable benefits she heads.”
“Yeah, I noticed it. Dad must have a type.”
While Lucien mopped the floors, he let the dogs out in the backyard. “We should probably get some type of fencing so they don’t wander off too far from the patio.”
“That’s a good idea,” Brogan said as she went from one side of the room to the other, tossing soda cans into a trash bag for the recycling bin. Then she dug out a tray and used it to load up the dirty glasses from the bar. She had to make three trips for all the plates and glassware. Before loading the dishwasher, she wiped down the counters with a disinfectant.
Bone-tired, she started the dishwasher and pulled out her phone to check her emails. “Look at this. Jack and Maeve say they’re coming up for Thanksgiving. And earlier, Austin sent me a text message that said he’s decided to spend his holiday break with us. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Lucien let the dogs back inside. “You don’t suppose he got kicked out of school, do you?”
“Don’t even think that. Everybody under one roof,” Brogan cooed as she plopped down at the table and put her feet up in another chair. “We could make it the best Thanksgiving ever.”
Lucien sat down across from her and reached out his hand, squeezing her fingers. “Every Thanksgiving I spend with you is the best.”
“Aww. I feel the same way.”
“I don’t know what to make about the Evan thing. You were right. I opened up a can of worms. I should never have asked this genealogy company to go the extra mile and locate direct relatives, like siblings or cousins.”
“We’ll figure it out. It’s probably as simple as finding Evan’s birth certificate. DNA doesn’t lie, though. And Graeme didn’t deny that he could be the father.”
“But why didn’t Daniella go after Dad for child support?”
“That part doesn’t make sense. Unless Dani believes Evan’s father is someone else other than Graeme. In that case, you’d be opening up a whole new set of problems for Evan.”
“The report doesn’t explain how Evan’s DNA ended up in a comparative database. If he uploaded a sample, then maybe he already knows about me.”
“He wouldn’t have known about you until you put your DNA out there at the first of the month.”
“That’s true.”
“Something must’ve made Evan curious. Nineteen-year-olds don’t usually feel the urge to look up their heritage. What was the breakdown of your ethnicity? You never mentioned that part.”
“Probably because the sibling thing blew me away. I’m fifty-four percent English, twenty-six percent Irish, and the rest is European. What about you? Did you ever open your DNA results?”
“Nope. I never found the time, what with getting everything ready for the party.”
“Brogan, aren’t you the least bit curious about your ancestry?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Not really. If you’re so curious, though, why don’t you open mine?” She reached behind her and pulled the unopened envelope from a drawer. She slid it across the table. “Go ahead.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Why would I?”
He tore open the seal and pulled out the report. After skimming it, he stuck it back in the envelope. “On second thought, let’s not do this tonight.”
“Why? What’s in there?”
“Nothing.”
“Your face says different. What does the report say?”
“Fine. It says you have no blood ties with the Brinell family, including Rachel Wingate Brinell.”
