by HELEN HARDT
“All right. I’ll give you that much. Though my dad paid for your rehab.”
“He did, and I appreciate it. I told him he didn’t have to. Turns out I spent all of a day there.”
“My father is a great man. The kind of man you’ll never be. He takes care of people who matter to him.”
“And I matter to him?”
“Apparently.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Yes. I know that. I believe I just said it. None of this is why I’m here. Let’s get on with it.”
“I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Which is a good reason for getting on with it.” My voice is tight, full of tension. Yes, I should be sympathetic to the fact that Floyd is dying, but I can’t bring myself to be.
“I had an uncle,” he says.
“Yeah? I have three uncles. Great.”
“It’s difficult for me to talk. Just let me get it out. Please.”
I huff. “Fine.”
“I had an uncle. My father’s brother. Your great-uncle. His name was Frederick Jolly.”
He pauses then. Am I supposed to say something? He told me to let him get it out. I stay silent.
“He was an attorney in Denver. He was my father’s older brother.”
“What was your father’s name?” I ask, not sure why. For some reason, I want to know my birth grandfather’s name. I could have researched it before now, but I didn’t, and I want to know.
“Robert. And your grandmother’s name was Michaela Johnson Jolly.”
“Why didn’t you marry my mother?” I ask.
Again, I’m not sure where the question is coming from, except that this man is dying, and I may never be able to find out this information again.
“She didn’t want to get married,” he says.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You couldn’t even remember her name. You couldn’t remember my name.”
“We were together for four years. You and your brother are three years apart. I’m not lying.”
“How could you forget our names?”
“The booze and pills,” he says. “It fucked up my brain.”
“No shit.” I shake my head. “Go on, then. Tell me what I came here for.”
“So I needed money.”
“For booze and pills?”
He sputters out a cough again, and again I think about calling someone, but he gets it under control.
He makes a gurgling noise and then continues. “I was homeless. On my last dime, and I had this rich uncle. Fred Jolly. My own parents were gone.”
“Dead?”
“Yeah. They died when I was twenty-five. A year or so before this.”
“So you had no one to bail you out.”
“I did. I had Uncle Fred.”
“The rich attorney. Tell me. What does all of this have to do with me?”
He coughs again, and this time, one of his machines starts beeping.
I can’t help an eye roll. This is getting tedious. I don’t really care what he has to say. I already gave him his last wish. I called him Dad, even though he doesn’t deserve it.
Hell is obviously summoning him. So take him, why don’t you? I literally look to the ceiling and then realize my folly. Hell, if it exists, is down, not up. I hold back a laugh as a nurse hurries in.
“Mr. Jolly? Doing okay?” She fidgets with the machines. “You bent your arm again. Try to hold it still, okay? I’m going to reset everything.”
A few minutes later, she leaves. He coughs again.
Finally, I rise. “I don’t have any more time for this.”
“Sit down,” he commands.
And his voice, when he takes that tone, is familiar to me.
It’s…
It’s so like my own.
Scary as hell.
What’s scarier? I sit. I fucking obey the man.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Ashley
After Dale leaves, I walk to the main house. It’s Saturday, and though I’ll go work the harvest, I want some orange juice, and Dale’s out of it. Maybe I’ll run into town later today and pick up groceries.
Or is that too pushy?
I’ve spent the last several nights at Dale’s, but I haven’t technically moved in with him. My belongings, with the exception of a toothbrush, my skincare routine, and some pajamas—which of course I never wear at Dale’s—are still at the main house. I have to go there every morning to change clothes. So far, I haven’t run into Talon or Jade since that first morning, which is good. I know I have no reason to be embarrassed, but still…
Jade is sitting at the kitchen table reading something on her tablet when I enter through the back. She looks up.
“Good morning, Ashley. When are you and Dale leaving this morning to go to the hospital?”
“He already left. He wanted to go alone.”
Jade sips her coffee and sighs. “That’s so like him. He never wants any help with anything.”
I nod. She’s not wrong.
“Have a seat,” she says. “There’s juice in the fridge.”
“Thank you.” I help myself to a glass and pour a serving of OJ. I sit down next to Jade.
“How are you?” she asks. “We haven’t had the chance for any girl talk for a while.”
“I’m good.” I take a sip and swallow. “Dale and I…”
“Yes, I know. Talon and I are thrilled for both of you.”
“But it’s… He and I, we…” I huff out a sigh. “He only committed to me for the time I’m here. That’s all he’s giving me.”
“Is that enough for you?”
“Of course not! I’m in love with him. But it’s all he’s giving me, so I’m taking it. And before you say anything, I know I’m worth more, that I deserve more.”
“Actually”—she smiles—“I know exactly how you’re feeling.”
“You do?”
She chuckles. “When I was living here that summer, I took every single second I could get with Talon. He treated me terribly sometimes, but I still savored every moment with him.”
“I can’t imagine him treating anyone terribly.”
“He was different then. A lot like Dale, as I’ve told you.”
“Dale doesn’t—” I stop.
“Dale doesn’t what?” she asks.
“I was going to say Dale doesn’t treat me badly. He doesn’t. But there have been a few times when his words weren’t the nicest.”
She nods. “I understand.”
“Jade…”
“Hmm?”
“I know you don’t talk about these things, but maybe if you can tell me how you were able to finally reach Talon…”
She inhales deeply, her expression resigned. “I want to tell you everything, Ashley. I do. But the truth is that it’s not my story to tell. I will say this much. Don’t give up. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to my son. I can see how much you cherish him just by your expression when you say his name. He may not know it yet, but he needs you. Maybe even more than you need him.”
I run my finger over a drip of condensation on my juice glass. “It always seems what Dale needs most is his solitude.”
“Solitude is important to him. It’s true. But you’ve touched something in him. Something I never could, and Lord knows I tried. Something even Talon never could. He’s a little less walled-off since you came along, and that’s a very good thing.”
“How is it a good thing, if solitude is what he craves?”
“Because in the end, we all—including Dale—yearn to belong to something bigger. Being alone can be wonderful. We all need it sometimes, but at the end of the day, we all want to belong to someone else.”
“Not Dale,” I say.
“He does, and you’ve begun to prove it. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“I don’t know whether to feel good or bad about that,” I say. “I don’t want to change him. I fell in love wi
th him the way he is.”
“Oh, there’s so much to love in him,” Jade says. “So much that he doesn’t even know he has to offer. He’s brilliant, of course. And genuine. He’d take a bullet for his father or me in a heartbeat. Or any of his siblings. But mostly, somewhere inside him is a soul that needs to heal. I could tell from the first time we talked, Ashley, that you’re attracted to that part of him. The same thing that attracted me to Talon.”
“How did you get through to Talon?”
“It took time. Though looking back, we met at the beginning of summer and were married during the fall. Crazy, but it seemed longer.”
“Dale and I haven’t known each other very long either.”
“No, you haven’t.” She sighs, shaking her head and smiling. “I’ve said this before, but I see so much of myself in you, except that you’re more together than I ever was.”
“I don’t feel very together sometimes,” I say.
“No one feels together all the time.”
I nod, though I have a hard time believing Jade doesn’t feel together constantly. She’s a wonderful mother, a brilliant lawyer, and gorgeous as all get-out. Plus she’s just nice. Such a nice woman, and I’m privileged to know her.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For letting me stay here. For the opportunity you’ve given me.”
“That was Ryan,” she says.
“I know. But I feel like you guys all function as sort of a unit, you know?”
She chuckles. “I suppose we do. Talon and his brothers and sister are all very close.”
I gather my nerves. “Is that because of their father?”
“In some ways.”
“I asked Dale about him,” I say.
“I doubt Dale could tell you much.”
“No, he couldn’t. Just that he was in prison for tampering with federal evidence, and that he died within a year of his incarceration.”
“There’s a huge story there,” Jade says, “and to be honest, I never agreed with Talon and the others to keep it from the kids. Ruby and Melanie agreed with me, but the rest, including Marj’s husband, Bryce, wanted it kept quiet. I was outvoted.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Brad Steel was a very good man. He was also a very bad man.”
“What about his wife? Talon’s mother?”
“She was mentally ill for most of her life.”
I touch my lips, remembering what Ryan told me about the Steel Foundation. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“She lived out her life in full-time care, in a dreamworld where her children were still small. It’s very sad.”
But Brendan said she committed suicide. Maybe he meant later. “I had no idea.”
“I know. We don’t talk about it, and as I said, there’s a lot the kids don’t know.”
“I get it.” And I do. My own mother didn’t tell me the truth about who my father was until recently. “But they’re adults now,” I continue. “Don’t they deserve to know the truth of their history?”
“I wrestle with that. But look at it this way. Do you think Dale is better off now? Knowing his birth father?”
I stare down at my now-empty glass.
I don’t know whether the answer to Jade’s question is yes or no.
Chapter Fifty
Dale
“Get on with it,” I say. “Rich Uncle Fred.”
“Uncle Fred was really rich,” he says.
“Well, lawyers tend to do well in big cities.”
“Oh, he was way richer than most lawyers. He had outside investments.”
“Great, great. He was a damned millionaire. Who cares?”
“He wasn’t as rich as your father, but close.”
I stop my jaw from dropping. Does he have any clue how much the Steels are worth? Because if this guy was close, he was a billionaire. Or close to being one.
“What kind of outside investments?” I ask hesitantly.
“I didn’t know at the time, but I found out. They were mostly illegal.”
“So your uncle was a crook. So what?”
“I didn’t know that at the time,” he says, his voice cracking. He begins to pant and then he wipes at his face, knocking the nasal cannula out of his nose.
Beeping again. I stand and look at the machines. His pulse ox is down to eighty. The same nurse scurries in once more.
“Mr. Jolly, you’ve got to keep this on.” She adjusts the cannula. “Are you going to behave yourself now?”
Right, I say to myself.
She looks to me. “Have you finished your business yet? He’s very tired.”
I move to open my mouth, but Floyd speaks first.
“No, he’s not done here.”
The nurse sighs. “Very well, but try to stay still, okay?” She whisks back out the door.
“Get on with it,” I say, not kindly.
“If I could relive the next few moments I’m going to tell you about, I’d never go to my uncle. I’d live on the streets, die on the streets.”
“Maybe it would have helped you,” I say. “I know a young woman who grew up homeless, and she’s bright and hardworking and the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
Floyd turns, finally, meeting my gaze. His green eyes are bloodshot and watery, but still I can see myself in them. I see the man who fathered me. The man who once looked a lot like me. Tall, broad, blond.
And now he’s a shadow of his former self. Booze and pills will do that.
“You’re in love,” he finally says.
I say nothing.
“Don’t try to deny it. I see that look in your eyes when you speak of your young lady. Don’t let her get away, son.”
I widen my eyes at his use of the endearment. I’m no more his son than the guy across the hall. Only genetically.
“My personal life isn’t any of your business,” I say.
“I won’t argue with you on that.” He turns away and resumes staring straight ahead. “I should get on with it, I guess.”
“I really wish you would.”
“My biggest regret is that I went to see Uncle Fred that day.”
“Biggest? Really? Bigger than abandoning your kids and their mother?”
“Yes.”
I shake my head and stand. “Unbelievable. I’m out of here.”
“For God’s sake, Dale, sit down!”
That voice again. So like my own when I’m angry. When I’m trying so hard to be understood.
So again, I sit. I’ll hear him out. He’ll be dead soon anyway.
“You have two more minutes,” I say, “and then I’m going.”
“Good enough.” He coughs and sputters once more but gains control. “I went to Uncle Fred for money. I needed a fresh start. I already found a rehab place that would take me, but of course I couldn’t afford it. I needed five thousand dollars to get in the door. Once there, I could apply for state funding as an indigent.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, that’s what I was told at the time. I was strung out, ready to go through withdrawal, and I believed what anyone told me. So I went to Uncle Fred.”
“And your rich uncle told you to take a hike?”
He shakes his head. “How I wish he had. No, he said he’d give me the money, but that I needed to do something for him in return.”
“Bartering. Sure. The man wasn’t stupid. What the hell could a strung-out alcoholic and junkie have that your rich uncle wanted?”
He closes his mouth and then his eyes. The beeps on one of his machines increase in speed. His heart is pounding rapidly. Why? I have no idea.
Finally, he opens his eyes and turns to gaze at me. Then, apparently thinking better of it, he cocks his head back and stares straight ahead.
“What did he want from me?” he says.
“Yeah. What the hell could you possibly have that he wanted?”
Another pause that seems to go on for year
s. Then—
“You. He wanted your brother and you.”
Somewhere in the air, words hang and voices echo.
You. He wanted your brother and you.
“So… You’re telling me…” No. Can’t let the thought form in my mind. Can’t. Just can’t.
“I told you a lot of his investments were illegal,” Floyd finally goes on.
Illegal. Yeah. Immoral. All that shit. But get to the goddamned point!
None of this makes it past my lips. I’m numb. My lips won’t open, and if they don’t open soon, I may explode on the spot and all the vileness will spew out of me.
Still numb.
Fucking numb.
Somewhere outside of the bubble I’m sitting in, Floyd is still speaking.
Illegal. Trafficking. Kids. Boys especially. Young, good-looking boys. I did it. I told him where he could find you. I sold your brother and you to Uncle Fred for five thousand dollars.
Still numb. Still immobile.
But somewhere inside, smoke is rising. Guts are churning. Rage is tornadoing. It all starts low, and then moves slowly, andante, and then begins to crescendo.
Finally, I break free and rise, pulling my arms from the invisible chains binding me.
I’m Frankenstein’s monster. Alive for the first time.
Finally knowing the truth of my life.
Random. Nothing is fucking random.
No. Just a biological father who needed money.
“Why us?” I cry. “Why not sell your soul to the devil himself?”
“Don’t you understand?” he says softly. “I did.”
“Fuck you. Then only you would suffer for your deed. Donny and I suffered. Do you have any idea what those psychopaths did to us?”
He doesn’t speak.
He knows.
He knew then, and he knows now.
“How was fucking rehab, Dad? Was it worth it?”
Still no words from him.
And I know.
I know the truth.
He never went to rehab. He took the money he got for his children and bought more booze and pills.
And he ended up the sorry sight he is now.
“This?” I say. “This is why you dragged me in here on your deathbed?”
“I had to let it go,” he says. “Had to erase my sins before it was too late.”
