“Did I hear my name?” he asked pleasantly. When he saw me, he tilted his head to the side and got a faraway look in his eyes. “Do we know each other? Have we met?”
Clay turned to him. “Hey, Stuart. This is Brandy. She’s, uh…”
I realized there was no good way for him to finish that sentence, and it wasn’t that I wanted to leave him twisting in the wind, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. I was frozen—brain, body, and soul.
Stuart turned back to me, then, a pleasant smile lighting up his plain face. When he smiled, I thought I might understand what my wild mother had seen in him. He had kind eyes, and he exuded capability. He made you feel that you could trust him, and he’d take care of you.
Was that a quality I might’ve inherited from him?
“Oh, hello, Brandy. Yes, yes. Clay told us all about you. It’s nice to meet you,” he said.
Without warning, everything unfroze almost at once. Unfortunately, my mouth came unstuck just a millisecond before my brain did, and I blurted out, “I think you might be my father.”
Crap. I probably could’ve done that slightly more gracefully.
One of Sandy’s dry quips played in my head. Gee, Bran. Ya think?
Stunned silence followed my outburst. Stuart and Clay would probably have been surprised to learn that I was no less shocked than they were by the words which had just flown out of my mouth.
Oh, the content, sure. I’d had a while to get used to that, but the delivery? That had been a complete surprise.
Clay was the one that finally broke the incredibly awkward silence. Even through all of the intensity of the situation and all the complicated feelings flying around inside me, I still had a little corner of my brain free to notice that he was starting to make a habit of saving my ass, and I kind of liked it.
Throwing the door wide he stepped out and placed his hand on my lower back. “Brandy, come inside. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise,” he said, his firm voice and hand letting me know that it was true.
I managed to nod as I let him lead me into the house.
A thought kept repeating in my mind, and even though I told myself over and over that it wasn’t the detail I should really be focusing on given all the rest of the circumstances, it was the one thing I couldn’t stop my brain from coming back to.
Clay told them about me. He told them about me. He freaking told them about me!
Chapter 19
Clay
This whole thing was a real mindfuck. I couldn’t believe the story that Brandy was sitting at my mom’s kitchen table telling us.
Of course, the thing that should’ve been the weirdest to me was that we were apparently stepsiblings, in a weird way, even though we’d never met before yesterday. But that wasn’t the part that my brain was most focused on.
What I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around was the idea that Brandy had grown up with an alcoholic mother, one who lied to her, and was violent and abusive.
Of course, Brandy being the ultimate sweet, caring, kind person she was, she hadn’t used those words. What she’d said was, “My mom…well, she wasn’t always the nicest person.” But the dark look in her eyes as she’d said it, and the way her shoulders hunched as she’d waved her hand to try to minimize its importance, as if her body was trying to make itself as small as possible to hide from the blow, both physical and verbal…fuck! It made me want to punch a wall.
What I did instead was reach across the table and take her hand. Apparently, that was the right move, because her face melted into a grateful smile at the supportive touch and she squeezed my hand back with her fingers.
I caught my mom’s face out of the corner of my eye and she nodded approvingly. It almost made me want to laugh, although that would’ve been inappropriate as hell. She had always tried to drill into me the importance of being a gentleman, and being supportive and kind to women. I felt like I’d always taken her advice, but put it in the “with a grain of salt” category. After all, you can’t do that shit with a Stage 5 Clinger. They’ll take it the wrong way. One supportive hand squeeze suddenly turns into a marriage proposal in their minds.
Now, with Brandy, I had someone that brought out all of those protective instincts. I wanted nothing more than to support her, and shield her from anything bad that life might bring. Even things that had happened in the past.
I was kind of glad, in a weird way, that my mom was getting to see that play out in front of her eyes. It was like there was finally a payout for all of her hard value-instilling work.
Stuart sat at the head of the table, folding and unfolding his hands, not saying anything. I knew, from many years of him being in my life, that this was just the way he processed shocking news. His brain didn’t move quickly in that regard. He had to dissect it in his own mind, look at each piece and examine it from all angles, then file it away in a category that made sense to him.
Still, to Brandy, his silence must’ve been a little disconcerting. Wanting to edge him along faster, I said, “Stuart, what do you think about all of this?”
He looked up, his eyes a little startled, as if my voice had just reminded him that he was in the room with other people. “Oh,” he said, his tone mildly surprised, as if he hadn’t expected to be asked to weigh in. “My word, yes. It’s…”
He trailed off as he searched for the right word, and then got distracted by his own thoughts again. Classic Stuart. This is what I meant when I’d told Brandy he was kind of boring. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the guy. I did. He was a good, solid man and he made my mother happy. He was just kind of hard to hang out with.
Mom chimed in. “Stuart, do you have any questions for Brandy?”
Before Stuart could respond, Brandy jumped in, her voice nervous. “I mean, I’m sure…with my mom being, well, like she is…you probably want DNA tests. Some kind of proof…”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Stuart said, his face coming alive with animation. I smiled. He’d found a concrete detail to hang the whole situation on within his mind. He’d be fine from here on in.
“Really?” Brandy asked.
“No,” Stuart assured her. “Let me show you something.”
He pushed back from the table and stepped out of the room. As we waited for him to come back, my mom put her hand on Brandy’s shoulder. “Honey, we sure are glad you’re here,” she said, her voice filled with warmth.
Brandy looked at her, face wide open with surprise and seemingly at a loss for words. That didn’t stop Mom. She just got up out of her seat and gave Brandy a squeeze around the shoulders before returning to her own chair.
I felt warmth spread all through me. I was so proud of my mom in that moment. Maybe even prouder than I’d ever been. She wasn’t doing anything remarkable, not by her standards. She was just a warm, loving, accepting person. But I didn’t think I’d ever looked at her with fresh eyes before, seen from an outside perspective how special just her normal, everyday qualities were.
I was damn lucky to be her son. I made a mental note to tell her that the next time we had a moment alone. I didn’t tell her nearly often enough.
Then I turned my eyes to Brandy. She looked a little shell-shocked and my throat closed a little. I got choked up, not to mention pissed as hell, thinking about her being raised in such hostility that the slightest bit of affection took her aback.
I squeezed her hand, which I still had ahold of. Her gaze turned to me and she smiled. We looked at each other, energy passing back and forth between us. It was real and palpable. I could feel it, and with more than just my emotions. It was like, if I’d wanted to, I could’ve just reached out and touched it, and it would’ve been there between my fingers. Tangible.
Stuart strode back in, then, pushing back his thinning hair in excitement. He held a small photo in his hand, which he held out proudly to Brandy as he sat back in his seat.
“You see?” He said, his voice tinged with wonder. “You see why I know? And it’s why I thought I recogniz
ed you, before. At the door.”
Brandy looked at the photo, then did a double take. “What…who…what…” she trailed off in confusion.
“What is it, babe?” I asked, and she slid the photo to me. I looked at it, and may have done a double take myself.
It was a photo of Brandy. Or…at least I thought it was. But it was old, a Polaroid, discolored with age. And she was dressed in faded bell-bottom jeans and flowing embroidered blouse, her blonde hair hanging in a long, straight sheet down past her waist.
I looked at Stuart, my brows drawn together in question.
“That’s her when she was a teenager. I don’t have many photos of her. Just the one, actually. She died, you see. When I was four,” Stuart said, as if that explained anything.
“Stuart, honey,” my mom interjected gently, “I think the kids mean, who is that? In the photo?”
“Oh!” Stuart said in surprise. “Oh, didn’t I say? That’s my mother.”
Chapter 20
Brandy
“Wow,” Stuart marveled, and it was about the fifteenth time he’d said it over the course of our conversation.
I couldn’t argue. “I know. The whole thing is just…wow.”
Everything still seemed surreal to me, starting with my mother’s drunken pronouncement in The Redwood Roadhouse and covering every single event that had happened since.
None so much, though, as looking at the picture of Stuart’s mother, who could’ve honestly been a triplet if she’d been born with Sandy and me.
I’d never seen a picture of any family that looked like me. Oh, Sandy, sure. But we were twins, and we’d been together since birth. Since before that, even. It wasn’t the same thing as finding out you had a grandmother that you were the spitting image of.
Or a father who was analytical and methodical, just like you were.
Still, as thrown for a loop as I was to find out after all of these years that Sandy and I did, in fact, have a living father, I imagined it must be just as strange for Stuart to have the bomb dropped in his lap that he had adult twin daughters he’d never known about.
As for the revelation that Clay and I were stepsiblings? Well, we hadn’t had a minute alone to talk about it, but based on the shell-shocked look on his face, I figured he felt just as weird about it as I did.
The four of us—me, Clay, Stuart, and Janine, Clay’s mom—were sitting around the kitchen table, sipping mugs of hot cocoa that Janine had made. Every time I took a sip, I noticed how delicious it was, and then it would weird me out that I would notice something so mundane when I was smack in the middle of such a strange situation, and the cycle would start all over again the next time I took a sip.
I felt awkward, like I didn’t belong in my own skin. I couldn’t figure out where to rest my eyes or what to do with my hands. I found myself fidgeting, and I was not a fidgety person, normally.
What happened to Badass Brandy, the girl who can solve any problem? I guess she’s on vacation.
“Do you have any pictures of your sister?” Janine asked.
“Oh, yes! Yes, of course,” Stuart interjected, his face lighting up. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. The shock, I suppose.”
I pulled out my phone. “Here’s one she just sent me yesterday. She’s in Myrtle Beach with her best friend for spring break. This is them, sunbathing.”
Janine took the phone first. She looked at the photo for a moment, smiling. “My word! I know you said you were twins, so I don’t know what I expected, but you really look exactly alike!”
“Yeah. Identical,” I confirmed. “It has its advantages. And, I guess, disadvantages, too.”
Janine handed the phone off to Clay, who looked at it and then winked at me. “Nowhere near as pretty as you,” he said.
Janine rolled her eyes. “Oh, this kid! Such a charmer.”
Stuart took the phone from Clay and studied the photo for a long moment, much longer than anyone else. Finally, he pushed his glasses up a little with one hand and wiped at his eyes. “I can’t believe it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I just can’t believe I missed so much time with you both.”
My eyes welled a little, too. Everything had been such a whirlwind since I’d first found out about Stuart’s existence that I hadn’t really stopped to think about the more melancholy side of things, but, yeah—this introduction was kind of bittersweet. We were both gaining a lot, true. But we were also coming face to face with how much we’d missed.
Stuart handed the phone back to me. “What does Sandy think about all of this?” he asked.
I gulped. The million-dollar question. “I…I haven’t told her.”
“Really?”
“No. I just needed to make sure that it was real first. I don’t know what my mom was like when you knew her, but now, she’s…um…not necessarily the most reliable source. And I didn’t want to get Sandy’s hopes up or throw her into a tailspin…”
I trailed off. I wasn’t even sure what I’d wanted, not now that I was trying to put it into words.
Janine patted my hand. “You wanted to protect her. You were taking care of your sister. That’s very admirable.”
I smiled at her, grateful. I couldn’t believe she was taking the news that her husband had two mystery children with such grace. Honestly, she was handling it better than I was.
Stuart looked at me hopefully. “Do you…I mean, you know her best…do you think she’ll want to meet me? Do you think she’ll be open to getting to know each other?”
I laughed, then realized that they were all looking at me strangely. “Sorry. If you knew Sandy, you’d get why that was funny. But, yeah, she’s definitely going to want to get to know you, and you’ll be lucky if she’s not trying to move in by the end of your first meeting. I’m the reticent one in the family. The one that always uses my head. Sandy’s all heart. And she’s gonna love you guys.”
“Well, that settles it,” Janine said with finality. “Stuart, call the firm and tell them you need some vacation time, and then let’s get our bags packed. I think we have to take a trip to Arcata.”
My eyebrows shot up as the statement sunk in. My mother wouldn’t take a trip across the street for Sandy and me, let alone across three states. Was this for real?
“Are you serious?” I asked, praying that the answer was yes.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Stuart enthused. “I can meet Sandy, and all of us can spend time together. Besides, I want to see where you live. I want to know what your life is like.”
I leaned back in my chair. I looked at Clay. “Are you okay with this?”
“Stuart, why don’t you help me in the kitchen?” Janine patted her husband, my father’s hand, and the two of them quietly exited giving Clay and I a moment alone.
He grinned at me. “I was already planning to come visit you. I was serious when I said the road trip was just the beginning.”
“I know you said that, but…I didn’t know if this would change things for you?”
“Brandy, it would take a lot more than this to make me let you go.”
I smiled, starting to let myself believe this was all real. That good things could actually happen. That maybe things were really changing for the better.
“Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s do it!”
Chapter 21
Brandy
“Thanks for giving me a ride. I don’t think I could’ve faced a cab.”
I slid the keycard into my hotel room door, and the beep as the light flashed green turned me on a little. Like a naughty version of Pavlov’s dogs, the sound of the hotel door unlocking was now linked in my brain with the picture of Clay in that hotel room touching, kissing, and licking every curve of my naked body.
I gave my head a sharp shake to clear that image. I needed to keep things on an even keel right now. Everything was changing, and I had way too much information to process to allow arousal to cloud my thinking.
Clay followed me into the room and wrapped hi
s arms around me immediately. I collapsed into them, like a deflating balloon. There was just something about Clay that made me let my guard down. For whatever reason, I felt safe enough in his arms to let all my defenses drop and just be vulnerable.
“So, how are you feeling?” he asked.
“Numb,” I mumbled against his shirt.
We stood there for a long time, not saying anything. He held me and rubbed my back. Everything about the moment felt perfect and right—which was weird, considering the bizarre circumstances.
He pulled back and brushed my hair from my face. I smiled, and I didn’t even know why. It was just looking at him. He made me happy.
“So, our pact was pretty short-lived, huh?” he said.
“Pact?”
“You know. The one about us not having pasts when it came to each other?” he joked.
I burst out laughing. “Yeah. Things got complicated quick.”
“They did. But I don’t think they have to be.”
I sighed, the possibility of an uncomplicated life filling me with happiness. “That would be amazing.”
“I have a question for you, though,” he said, running his thumb along my jawline.
“What’s that?”
“We have two options in going to Arcata.”
“Okay.”
“First, we can go in the car with Stuart and my mom. Pros are that it would probably be a more comfortable ride for you, and you could take that time to get to know Stuart a little better. Cons are that us riding in the backseat with them up front really kinda gives off that brother-sister vibe that I’m doing everything in my power to squash.”
I threw my head back in a full-throated laugh, and the warmth and pride that welled in his eyes was awesome to see. When my last giggle died down, I said, “But, I mean, since you’re bringing it up…that is weird, right? The whole pseudo stepsiblings thing?”
He grinned. “It’s weird. I admit. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”
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