Marc’s eyes flew to his uncle...father. It was them, they never ended. There was something between them...love?
“He’s also Isabelle’s father,” she added in a quick breath.
“Mother!” the girls cried in unison.
“Oh my gosh! What about us?” Emma asked.
“You two are Roberts,” she quickly clarified.
Marc stood up.
His mother caught his hand. “Marcus, say something,” she pleaded.
“It doesn’t seem that Robert was the only deceitful member of this family.”
Chapter Twenty
Marc stared down at the cello wrapped brightly coloured gerbera flower bouquet in his hands as he waited in the lineup to pay. It was the only thing he had purchased.
It had been a week since the big Caliendo breakdown confession show and Izzy had just arrived home late the afternoon before. She was exhausted and skipped supper to rejuvenate herself, her words, before disappearing into her suite.
It seemed like now that his mother’s conscience was freed with three quarters of her children she could hardly wait to tell the last child. He almost understood her desire to keep such secrets to herself as he played out the inevitable scene causing his stomach to knot with anticipation. It was so different not knowing and being told, than knowing and watching someone else have to endure the reality. And being Izzy, who was one hundred percent more irrational than him, he figured she was going to go on an all-so-famous Izzy rant leaving everything upturned like a rabbit digging carrots out of a garden and putting everyone in a chaotic state like the farmer whose day of planting was spoiled. And that was only if it didn’t go over too badly.
His mother was preparing them a meal in her...and Carl’s suite. Apparently, although Carl’s suite was just next door. Carl had become a regular fixture in his mother’s suite since Robert’s death, continuing their blooming romance which was concealed until now. Marc still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
The blue, purple, yellow and pink petals stared up at him bright and bold as if loudly stating that bringing flowers to smooth over your sister’s paternity reality was absolutely ridiculous. And it would look odd. He was one person away from paying, when he decided he would present them to his mother instead of Izzy and prevent further suspicion before supper even began.
“I would speculate those are for my sister but considering the way you two parted I’m going to assume I’m not accurate.” Peyton’s voice sliced through his thoughts. “Unless, you’re planning an apology. Not that I am assuming it was your fault because of course she didn’t tell us anything.”
With all the extra family drama and all the women in his life smothering him with concern, he hadn’t had any spare time to think about Kate. Until the lights were turned off and he lay alone in his bed, but even then he was usually so exhausted he passed out in minutes and Kate was only a drifting thought. He couldn’t very well tell Peyton that.
“Didn’t go straight home after your trip?”
She smiled and winked those matching hazel eyes to a woman he’d thought he caught again and was never letting go. “I got it, none of my business. And I’m staying in town at my dad’s. I have a few appointments lined up at the banks in town.” She wrinkled her nose. “I had one this morning that didn’t go over as good as I had hoped.”
The empty building Gran had left them. “Your spa/soap shop?”
She beamed. “Kate told you?”
He nodded.
“Hmm, she must have really liked the idea then.”
He nodded again.
Her smile fell to a frown. “I called in a contractor and got a quote to fix the building up and took it to the bank. Along with the start-up cost of supplies to make the soap and body products on a bigger scale then what Gran and Abby were producing out of their kitchen. It didn’t go over so well.”
The lady in front of him finished her sale and Marc set the flowers, that would reassure his mother he had forgiven her on the counter. Carl was his father and his mother had lied so sure he was angry. This was unacceptable. However, how would that look to people? He already knew his father wouldn’t have allowed it. Marc was left either being totally furious with all of them or moving on. Forgiving them...that would take some time, but he understood.
He dug one of his business cards out of his pocket and flipped it over quickly jotting his cell number on the back. “Here take this. If it doesn’t work out with any of your other appointments give me a call and we will work something out.” He stressed the word will to let her know it wasn’t negotiable. He would help them.
Peyton took his card a bit reluctantly and stared up at him a bit surprised. She waited for him to pay and followed him out onto the cold November sidewalk. “Marc, are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t have handed you my card otherwise.?
She smiled shyly. “That’s amazing.”
“I will want to see the business plan, the profit turnover, the expenses...the whole deal before I hand over a cheque.”
“I have all of it.”
He nodded. “So give me a call.”
“Thank you.”
“Talk to you soon.”
***
Three hours later his family had all gathered for supper, sharing secret worrying glances between them. Marc had also been pulled aside by every member of the family to have a secret conversation...again.
His mother had wanted to apologize and confirm he was alright and that he had actually forgiven her for all the lies that had unfolded. Even if she didn’t come right out and say it. Carl wanted to verify they were alright and asked for his consent to continue a relationship with his mother, which was completely unnecessary and awkward. Violet wanted to make sure he was able to discuss the events again with Izzy so soon and make sure he was alright. Emma ventured over to remind him that Melissa was only a phone call away if he needed someone who wasn’t family to talk to. And Izzy wanted to whack his shoulder a few times and tell him what a dumbass he was for abandoning Kate after they’d been tapping all night. Tapping? What was with the term?
He smiled remembering Kate specifically telling them there would be no tapping hardly an hour before he made her a liar. Kate. What was he going to do about her? They’d exchanged numbers before his accusations, so he was planning on calling her to apologize. He had been way out of line. He wanted to wait until after her trip and even then he knew his words would probably be unacknowledged. He had truly messed up big time and realized it may not be fixable.
They sat down to a delicious roasted chicken, potatoes and vegetable meal that his mother had been busy preparing all week. Not literally, but the menu had changed a minimum of once a day.
“How was your week?” she asked Izzy.
“Awesome. Those McAdams sisters are crazy. They are all willing to do almost anything, except Sydney, she seems a little more mommy-like and Kate was a little bit...” She looked at Marc. “Distracted. But she busted a mean move on that dance floor. I mean I personally didn’t get any action while I was there.”
His sisters both sighed in disapproval and said in unison, “Izzy seriously?” and a “Really Izzy, come on, we are eating.”
“What? I was just trying to break in that Marc banged Kate in a cabin in the woods where they spent the night together.”
Everyone stopped eating and five sets of eyes fell on him. His only went to Izzy’s. “What?” she said innocently then ate a forkful of potatoes before mouthing, You’re welcome.
“Marc?” his mother asked.
“Long story.”
“Where is Kate when you need a good story,” Violet teased.
“Well, he dropped her off at the hotel in quite a mood. She looked like she wanted to drill a fist through the wall,” Izzy continued.
They turned to him again. “You do all realize however many times you glance at me, what happened in that cabin was between me and Kate.”
“Have you talked to her since?” Izzy pushed.
“When I saw you two, she was fine,” Carl observed. “Did something happen after that?” That was a big “Yes”.
“Again, not open for discussion.”
“Maybe we should invite Melissa over so you’re willing to dish out details to make her uncomfortable,” Emma suggested. “Like the whole sauna story,” she added.
“I can’t help if parts of my life make Melissa uncomfortable. If the two of you would get it through your heads that I’m not interested we wouldn’t all have to walk on egg shells.” Emma glared at him. Sometimes the truth hurt...obviously from recent events...and those two needed to move past some teenage dream they were becoming sister-in-laws through him.
“Alright,” his mother interjected. “That’s enough. If Marc doesn’t want to talk about it, let’s drop it.”
“Until after supper and Mom’s all over that,” Izzy said. “I call first dibs on the replay.”
She shook her head briskly at her daughter with a scowl to try quieting her. Izzy retaliated by continuing tales of her fun-filled weekend, throwing in quips about Kate every opportunity she had. They got to hear about Kate’s revealing bathing suit, and how she could out drink all of them and still wake up earlier than all of them in the morning with a mouthful of jokes and laughter. Marc didn’t comment.
When his sisters started to clear the dishes, his mother ushered everyone into the sitting area. It was time to sit down and tell Izzy who her biological father was. But before that subject came up, Eliza decided she better start with her other bombshell since at the end of the last discussion Marc had been walking away before she finished. He still didn’t know how he felt about her confession but he’d wanted all the truth.
She started with her same story, but before the part where Marc and Izzy were Carl’s children she dipped into what would change all their lives forever. Sure, Carl being their dad was a surprise but the only thing it changed was the formalities of titles. Carl had always been a part of their entire lives growing up and at times he’d been more of a father than Robert. He could sit around and debate what it would be like if they’d known the truth when they were young and how different their lives would be, but there was no changing it, so he didn’t purposely venture down that road.
“Robert,” his mother was saying and he noted her referring to their names instead of using their titles because after the exposure the titles were going to be reissued for the two of them. “Was a bad influence on Corbin. He was always trying to manipulate Corbin to his own benefit, usually in regards to us, his family. They spent a lot of time together even against my better judgment and one night, when he was only seventeen, he was acting strange.” Her eyes looked so sad as she retold the story. “I managed to discover he had been instructed to cut the brakes on Carl’s car the night of March eighteenth.”
Izzy gasped. “That’s the night Corbin died,” she said. “He had come to you? He had told you?”
“Yes, he did tell me and we went to Carl and arranged for the car to crash.”
“What?” Izzy looked horrified.
His mother looked exasperated. “Isabelle, let me finish. He never cut the brakes. His car was in the parking garage which is under video surveillance,so we had Corbin fake cutting the brakes, then get in the car and drive away.”
“Mother!”
“Corbin didn’t die in that crash Isabelle!” His mother’s unusually frantic voice echoed through the house and finally quieted her daughter who sat back in her chair and stared wide eyed at her mother...was she speechless? Marc had to resist pulling his phone out and snapping a picture. When his mother regained her composure, she ran her hands over her lap and folded her hands on them. “We whisked him away from the resort and away from Robert. We faked his death to keep him safe.”
Izzy’s horrified face dropped instantly like a child’s and confusion etched its way across her features. “Corbin’s not dead?” Izzy looked around. “Why don’t any of you look shocked? Do you already know?” Their guilty eyes answered her. Her hands flew in the air. “Are you kidding me? You all knew and are just telling me now?”
“No, no,” Violet assured her. “We didn’t know until this week, but you weren’t here.”
Izzy laughed suddenly. “Oh my gosh, you all were breaking me into this. I wondered why Momma was cooking. Actually I didn’t even know that she could cook so that’s two things I learned today. Oh my goodness Momma do you know him? What’s he like? Does he look like any of us?” Her reaction was like no other Was she even taking this seriously?
Marc would have like to have stopped there. Izzy seemed quite content learning about her oldest brother. His mom continued and plainly told her who her biological father was. Quick and fast like ripping off a band-aid, nothing like the way she had told him.
“I know,” Izzy said. Now the puzzled looks were across everyone else’s faces.
“You know?” Eliza asked.
She nodded. “Ya, Dad told me years ago.”
Everyone looked at Carl, but he shrugged, just as puzzled as the rest.
“No, Robert told me,” Izzy clarified. “He was mad because I didn’t want to go to a private school and he was ranting away and it came out.”
“And you believed him?” Eliza asked. “Just like that you thought I would have an affair?” Marc didn’t know why she was so shocked...she did have an affair...more than once.
“Of course not, although I wouldn’t have blamed you. I thought Dad was just being Robert, but then I saw it. The way you and Carl shared glances or would stare at each other when you thought no one was looking. You two laugh together whenever you sneak away in a corner or are alone at a table and I just knew. It was love.” His mother flushed. Carl turned away.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Eliza asked. “That’s a pretty big burden.”
She shrugged. “Because it wasn’t my place to say.” Marc found that hard to believe. Did she already blank out the entire conversation she initiated at supper about him and Kate? That hadn’t been her place to say either. “More importantly, what are we going to do about Corbin? Do you know where he is Momma? Can we invite him home?”
It was much too fast and Marc watched the hurt in his mother’s eyes, the concern in his sister’s and almost a longing in Carl’s as he watched his daughter who didn’t seem to care that he was her father. She was so determined to bring everyone back together she didn’t even notice the hurt that would need to be healed before they dragged Corbin into this mess. That was if he even wanted to come.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Checkmate.”
His uncle/father Carl, looked up at him and grinned in defeat. “Again. It’s ludicrous how good you are at this game.”
Marc grinned then. “I learned from the best.” He was insinuating his father and Carl stretched his arms out and leaned back in the chair with a grin across his face enjoying the compliment.
Marc recalled all the games they had played together when Marc was beginning to master the game.
“I suppose you did,” Carl agreed.
Marc leaned back in his chair. They had been playing this awkward uncle/nephew to father/son transition game for weeks now and it was exhausting. They were both struggling exceedingly to fill a shoe that neither of them understood how to put on. Both of them were left drained.
“You taught me a lot as I was growing up. Chess, tennis, how not to build a stool,” Marc teased.
A loud, deep rumble came from Carl. The stool Marc had attempted to build would have been fitting in the “Crooked Mans” house, from the old nursery rhyme.
“No, I taught you how to build a stool. You taught me how not to build a stool.” They laughed. “You were not a handy youngster. But you were a good youngster.”
“I don’t really know how to do what we are trying to do here,” Marc said.
“Me either,” Carl quickly agreed, looking almost relieved to get it out there.
“But, I do know that you were the best uncle any of us co
uld have growing up. At times, you were better than him at being a father. We have a good relationship here and I don’t want it to get muddled because we are trying so hard to adjust to titles.”
Carl nodded. “It’s remarkable how wise you are. I am very proud of you.”
Marc grinned. “I got it from my mom,” he teased. Carl laughed again.
“Speaking of which, we are all meeting at Mrs. Calvert’s for a late lunch I was told. And, it is getting to be that time.”
Marc grinned inwardly. That was exactly what he had arranged. He had even called ahead and asked Mrs. Calvert to reserve seats for them in the far window facing the McAdams currently inherited building. “Yes, I’m going to meet you down there. I have a couple errands to run first.”
When his uncle...father...closed his office door, Marc pulled his cell out and typed a quick text to Peyton. They are going to be at the edge of Mrs. Calvert’s bakery so meet me out front. I will text when closer. He snapped his phone shut. This was going to fix all his family problems for a good year.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I thought the girls were meeting us here,” Kate said, waiting for Peyton to unlock the front door of the shop.
Peyton shrugged. “I told them after lunch. They will show. Come on, let’s look around.”
Once inside, Peyton tossed the keys on a nearby desk and started vocally illuminating her vision. “Everything should be done naturally. The walls a neutral color that will highlight the wood displays Dad is making for us.” She stood to the left. “We will have the counter here so we can greet customers as they come in and offer them assistance.” She walked to the middle of the floor. “And here we will have a long old harvest table with gift baskets full of our products.” She moved to the back wall. “With a wooden huge shelf here as the main focal point with each of our soaps and a card describing their benefits.” She glanced over her shoulder at her sister. “Which is where your creativity comes in. We also need you to make us a sign, and logos, and we will need to do advertising.”
Lakeshore Secrets: The McAdams Sisters - Kate McAdams (By The Lake Series Book 1) Page 15
