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Holt stopped peeling the label. “I wonder how often she calls him.”
He couldn’t even say Mom. Neither of them could. I didn’t blame them one bit.
Andrew pushed back from the table, the chair making an awful noise as it scraped across the floor. He tossed his napkin down.
“She’s been in contact with him again? And you didn’t think to tell me this?”
Andrew’s anger over a phone call took me by surprise, but it was a testament to just how deep that woman had hurt all of them.
“I thought you knew.” Holt stood and grabbed another beer from the fridge. He held up the wine bottle to me. I nodded emphatically. He filled both my glass and Trish’s.
“Ididn’t.Is everybody in this family keeping secrets from each other?” Andrew spat as he paced in front of the oven.
Trish went to him and slipped an arm around his waist. He clutched her to his side and absently kissed her head. Like he needed the comfort.
“Why won’t she just leave him alone?” Andrew muttered.
I sat awkwardly, uncertain what to do. This was bad. All of it so, so bad. Holt’s pain was palpable. Both brothers’ were.
“I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you,” Holt said. “I hadn’t said anything because, well, I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Andrew plowed his free hand through his hair. The move reminded me so much of Holt.
“I know. It’s just—”
“A lot to take in.”
“I’ll call him. Let’s get this over with now.” Andrew pulled his phone from his pocket.
“You should think about this,” I said quickly. “Make sure it’s what you want to do.”
Holt’s brow creased. “This about last night?”
“Yeah. Blissfully ignorant.”
“The truth isn’t always pretty, but it’s always the best,” Trish said reasonably.
We exchanged a look. Her experience had been that hiding the truth didn’t end well. She didn’t want the same for me. But our situations weren’t close to the same.
Holt sank back in his chair. “I don’t want to do it.”
“Neither do I.” Andrew sagged against the counter. “Maybe we should sleep on it. Decide in the morning.”
“Maybe Marlow will tell him and you won’t have to,” I offered, knowing full well she wouldn’t.
“Hell would freeze over first,” Holt said. “But you’re right. Let’s think it over.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Holt
Baker twinedher fingers through mine as we left Trish and Andrew’s.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared down the street. “I can’t make sense of it. When she said what she did at dinner, I thought she was just lashing out. Now, knowing she’s had our mother’s voice in her ear, I’m pretty sure she meant it.”
“I wish I had the answers, but I’m not going to lie. The whole thing stinks.” She sounded pissed on my behalf. It felt like the first time in a long time someone was automatically in my corner.
