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Taking a deep breath, I push away everything and prepare myself to face my parents as I enter the house. My chest constricts when their heated voices reach me from the front garden. They’re fighting again. Things have been going so well, lately.
“You have to tell her,” Mom says. “For crying out loud, Ben. Can’t you own up to your actions for once?”
I cross the lounge and stop in the open sliding door. My parents are standing on the veranda, facing the sea. They each have a drink in the hand. Dad’s prized bottle of Scotch stands on the table. Considering that it’s not even lunchtime, whatever they’re discussing is bad enough to warrant a strong drink.
Mom’s words have an edge to them. “Is it so hard to admit you made a stupid mistake because you were driven by your greed?”
“Enough,” Dad says, his voice hard. “Telling her won’t serve her any good.”
I drop my bag on the floor. “Tell me what?”
My mom spins around, regarding me through slitted eyes. “Are you eavesdropping? In my house? Don’t you know how—”
“Margaret,” Dad says, his tone shutting her up. “This house belongs to everyone in this family, not only to you.”
“I see nothing ever changes around here.” Mom slams her glass down on the table. “My opinion clearly doesn’t matter.”
My dad tilts his face to the sky. “For heaven’s sake. Can we not do this now?”
“Sure.” Mom smiles sweetly. “Whatever you want. You’re the breadwinner. That earns you all the say.”
I look between them. “Tell me what?”
“It’s not about you,” Dad says. “It’s business-related.”
Mom pulls her lips into a thin smile and looks away.
“More importantly, we want to talk to you about what happened this morning,” Dad says.
I don’t want to discuss it anymore. “Ryan said he already told you.”
Mom crosses her arms. “Where’s the car?”
“I donated it to charity.”
“What?” She laughs like she does when she’s upset. “Which charity?”
“The homeless shelter.”
“You did the right thing,” Dad says, shooting my mom a look. “Is that all?”
“I told them to call me when I have to sign the transfer of ownership papers.”
“I meant with regard to Angelo Russo.” He clenches his jaw when he says the name.
“Yes,” I say, crossing my fingers behind my back. I still hate lying to my dad even though I can do it now without blushing. “Why don’t you stop doing business with his family?”
My dad frowns. He gives a soft, uncomfortable chuckle. “What?”
“Why are you still in business with them?”
Mom lifts her chin and glares at him in a way that says, I told you so.
“It’s complicated,” Dad says. “Unfortunately, it’s one of those necessary evils.”
Mom snorts. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Margaret,” he says again, harsher this time. “Shouldn’t you check on the lunch?”
“Of course.” She untangles her arms and squares her shoulders. “Whatever you say.”
Dad groans as she walks with a stiff back to the lounge. “Margaret, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Ignoring him, she makes her way to the kitchen.
My heart beats a little faster when I face my dad. “What’s really going on, Dad? You’re scaring me when you and Mom fight like this.”
“Nothing.” He crosses the veranda and rubs my arm like he used to do when I was little and he wanted to soothe me. “Would you like a glass of wine before lunch? You’re eighteen now after all.”
“No, thanks.”
He chuckles. “Ryan said you had a little too much champagne last night. I’m glad you had fun.”
I don’t correct him about the fun part.
He clears his throat. “You know how much you and your siblings mean to me, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“You’ve always been the apple of my eye.” He smiles as if to himself. “I’d always get into trouble with your mother for that.”
“For having a favorite?” I ask, my throat tightening. Mattie is Mom’s favorite, and I know how much that used to hurt before I was old enough to understand. I’d hate for Mattie to have felt the same about Dad and me.
“For spoiling you.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Yet you’re not a spoiled child.” He chuckles. “Sorry. You’re not a spoiled adult. Where does time go? My little girl is a grown woman now. You’re a good person.”
“Um, thanks,” I say, not quite meeting his gaze, because I’m not a good person.
“Your happiness is important to me. Very.”
“Dad?” I search his eyes. “What are you saying?”
“If you and Colin ever decide to get married, it’ll make me very happy.”
I blow out a sigh. “Mom put you up to this, didn’t she?”
He shrugs. “Colin is a good young man. I know you like him.”
“Like a brother,” I exclaim. “Please don’t start with the matchmaking too. It’s bad enough that Mom has been on my back about it since high school.”
“I’m only saying if you should ever develop romantic feelings for him, I’ll go to my grave peacefully, knowing you’re in good hands and taken care of.”
