“I know you didn’t say who you were. You know how I’m aware of that? He thought Luke had called him.”
Ginger felt the heat rush from his face. Jay had specified that Luke wasn’t to know anything and extensive effort had been expended to keep the secret from him. What had Tom said? What had he done?
“Oh, my God.”
“‘Oh, my God’ is right. Fortunately, there’s no harm done, aside from rousing his curiosity, which isn’t hard to divert.” She unfolded her arms.
“He didn’t give it away?”
“Apparently not. He told Luke he had a plane to catch.”
“That’s good. We’re all good, right?” Ginger relaxed when she moved closer and allowed herself to be wrapped in his arms.
“I don’t know how you could be that foolish,” Beau said. “I hope the baby has my brains, not yours.”
“Not giving my name was foolish. Calling was keeping my word.”
He was nothing if not an honest man. Without question, he was sorry for causing mischief and almost demolishing the carefully constructed house of cards. But he didn’t regret following Jay’s wishes in the slightest.
“Ginger, I know Dad meant a lot to you.” She pulled back and straightened his tie, tracing her slender fingers along its edges. “But he’s gone, baby. And your first loyalty is to me and your child.” She looked at him. “If he made you promise anything else in reference to Tom DuBelle, I release you from it. I never want to lay eyes on that man or hear his name again. It’s an insult to Dad that he was here and that he even spoke to Luke. If there’s anything else he asked you to do regarding Tom DuBelle, forget it. Right now.”
Ginger was glad his task had only been the phone call. As much as he loved and wanted to please her, if Jay had requested more, he would’ve carried it out. But his burden was over, and he could commit to having no involvement with Tom DuBelle, his integrity intact.
“I understand.” He took her hand from his tie and brought it to his lips. “Don’t worry.”
“Good, since I don’t know where I’d hide your body. I’m sure I’d find someplace, but I have other things to think about at present.” She smiled and brought back her hand. “You can go back to your work. If I need you again, I’ll find you.”
“Hopefully it’d be under better circumstances.”
“It depends if you’ve done anything else naughty, though you’d be hard-pressed to top this one. Let it be the first and last time you upset me this much, Ging.” Beau walked to the door. “And I won’t tell Mom, since I don’t want to be a single mother.”
Ginger watched her leave and sank into one of his office chairs. He was a lucky man. Even if he had the immense pressure of operating the business alone, he’d been trying to convince himself that it’d be okay. Luke was back, and the boy did help some. Jay had always wanted more for him, but Ginger didn’t feel the need to push him to further achievements.
If he wants to hang around doing his shows and help on removals, I don’t care. He’s just a boy. An amusing concept occurred to him—Luke and Beau were the same age. Twenty-six. But everyone still thinks of him as a little boy. I can’t remember ever thinking of Beau as a little girl.
✩
She’d been twelve when they first met. She wore her long, dark hair in a braid down her back and sported scratches and scrapes on her sun-baked legs and arms from climbing trees. But Beau had an air about her; her eyes didn’t contain the impetuosity of youth. She was measured and in control of herself.
“This is my daughter, Beau. Beau, this is Ginger. He’ll be working with me,” Jay said.
She extended her hand. “Is that your middle name? Ginger?”
“No, it’s the hair.” Her hand was delicate on the outside, but he felt the coarseness of her fingertips. He shook it, glancing at Jay to ensure he’d done well.
“What’s your real name? Is it stupid? My first name is stupid, so I’m lucky my middle name is better.”
“Jacob.”
“And you’re lucky you have red hair.”
He and Jay laughed, and the left side of Beau’s mouth tilted in amusement.
And then Luke skirted around the corner.
Ginger remembered how rumpled his appearance had been. He had the same battle scars as his sister, but Luke seemed more wild. More agitated. More something. He hadn’t immediately noticed there was a guest in the room. When he did, his hand rested on Beau’s shoulder, and he looked stunned, like a wide-eyed rabbit with a rifle trained on him.
“This is my brother, Luke. He has a ridiculous middle name and no other notable features.”
“Beau.” Jay shook his head before turning to his son. Ginger noticed how a different gentleness entered his eyes and voice. “Luke, this is Ginger. He’ll be working with us. You’re not going anywhere, but we could use extra help.”
The boy said nothing, but Ginger offered his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Luke.”
Luke shifted, positioning himself behind his sister.
“Don’t mind him, Ging. He’s weird when meeting new people. I’ll shake your hand again so you don’t feel like an idiot.” Beau gave his hand two strong pumps.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jay cover his mouth and cough, possibly to hide another laugh. Ginger only smiled. He felt initially about Beau as he had about Jay—she had the blend of eagerness to please and self-confidence that yielded sincerity. Jay possessed an additional layer of warmth, but they both were easily likeable.
Luke, however, didn’t share these characteristics. His similarity to Jay seemed to end at appearance. But perhaps it just took him a while to get used to a person. Ginger was sure the boy would come around once he became a familiar face. And maybe Luke could be like his brother. He’d always wanted a brother.
✩
Unfortunately, their relationship hadn’t moved much past that first encounter. He’d developed a fierce loyalty and love for Jay and Jackie, who’d treated him as another son. And, of course, he’d gone from liking Beau to absolutely adoring her. But time hadn’t brought him closer to Luke.
Ginger felt he’d gone out of his way to be Luke’s friend. Maybe it was because he’d married Beau; Luke’s hostility had escalated around the wedding. He’d never been violent, but he didn’t try to hide his dislike anymore. And Luke had stopped calling him Ginger after the engagement had been announced.
Did you think she’d stay with you forever? She was going to get married. Whether to me or someone else. And it’s been three years. Get over it. Ginger shook his head. He’s just a selfish little boy. That’s his biggest problem.
He left his office and returned to the viewing room, grateful that Beau had been spared this immature quality. Even if she wanted to kill him sometimes.
Chapter Five
Once everyone left, Luke stood in front of the open casket flanked by his mother and sister.
Of course, Jake was there too. He was always there, like a fly buzzing in a person’s ear and then landing on their food and shitting all over it. Jake had his arm around Beau, and her head leaned against his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Beau said. Luke knew she was referring to Jake’s restoration of Jay’s body. She hadn’t witnessed the state it had been in, but she too had seen things and must’ve intuited how bad the condition was.
“It was the least I could do.”
The verbalized appreciation for Jake’s skills was as irritating as his brother-in-law’s response. There was nothing Luke could’ve done, nothing he might’ve contributed that required thanks.
While he’d latched onto the Tom DuBelle intrigue, the excitement blasting away the refuse that’d been collecting in his brain, his attention strayed as the guilt returned.
If I’d just come home earlier. If there’d been more time. If New York had been better, he started to think. But if you’d landed every role you wanted, your dad would still be dead. Or would he? Maybe if I’d had success in New York, I would’ve come home soo
ner. As a triumph! And that fucking car could’ve mowed up someone else’s dad.
“He looks like he’s sleeping.” Beau exhaled, her voice breaking. “I’m almost afraid to talk too loud, or we’ll wake him.”
Luke deliberated telling Beau what Jay had said about how the bodies weren’t supposed to look asleep, but anxiety enveloped the four of them, and he stayed quiet.
After several seconds of anticipation with the only noise being Beau’s attempts to breathe easily, his mother removed a handkerchief from her purse.
“Take them, please.” Jackie folded the fabric and held it pinched near her chin.
Jake unwrapped his arm from Beau and kissed her hair, shushing her away with the tips of his fingers. She fled to Luke and hugged his neck, pressing her face into his shirt collar. But Jake had to ruin that feeling too. Nothing could be pure and good with his pollution. Luke looked between his mother and brother-in-law.
Another hidden plan, another members-only agreement. Who knew there were so many secrets in this family?
Jake leaned over the casket, positioning his body to obstruct Jackie’s view. He raised each of Jay’s hands and slid two rings from his fingers.
Luke remembered how his father had removed his rings by twisting them slowly to the right. Now there was no longer any friction to dissuade them from leaving. Jay had dead hands now, and when Jake moved them, there was no pliability in the wrist; it was like picking up a severed tree branch. Luke shivered and pulled Beau closer.
When Jake placed the rings in Jackie’s hand, she seized a fist around them and pulled the handkerchief to her mouth. Her frame trembled, and her tight shoulders strained against the fabric of her black jacket. He thought about letting his sister go or shuffling together over—
Jake touched Jackie’s arm first.
Aren’t we lucky to have you? Someone has to comfort my mother. Someone had to be the son Dad always wanted. To complete his perfect family.
He often wondered if Jay had planned it. If he’d had a gut feeling from the beginning that Luke would be a disappointment. So he’d located Jake, a nice enough young man with no definitive career plans or place to go. And Jay pushed him to pursue Beau, offered her as a bribe, as bait.
You’d sell your daughter to have him as your son. Luke thought, even though he knew it wasn’t true. As unfortunate as it was, no one had forced Jake and Beau together—it just happened. Jake hadn’t taken Beau on a date until she was eighteen. Luke even remembered Jake asking his opinion.
✩
“Will your dad be upset, do you think?” Jake had been driving the van, Luke in the passenger seat, and a partially decomposed body in the back.
“Why are you going to ask him? It’s not the eighteenth century, Ging. It’s fucked-up that you’re more worried about Dad saying yes than her.”
With the vapor rub under his nose, Luke still felt queasy. He was glad it was summer and he could lean his head out the window, but also sorry that the hot air made the smell worse. As weak as it was, he didn’t know how Jake and his father did without a menthol shield.
“But I know she’ll say yes.”
“She might not want a man who smells like putrefaction and embalming fluid. She might choose to leave this place. She might be like ‘Fuck. No.’”
“It’s only a date. She’ll say yes to that.”
Luke knew she would, though he hoped otherwise. He’d seen the way Beau had been looking at Jake. But though he was a moderately okay guy and kept the heat off Luke by helping his father, Luke hated the way his sister looked at Jake. Like she wanted to go away with him. Away without Luke.
It wasn’t that he had any unnatural desires for Beau. But she was more than a sister. She was his first friend. His best friend. Sometimes he’d felt she was his only friend. There was no one he’d ever been closer to. He was terrified of her favoring someone above him and then being taken away.
“Leave Dad out. He doesn’t own her. He doesn’t own me. He doesn’t own you, even if you like being his bitch.”
“I’m not his bitch. I have respect for him. For both your parents. You could try that.”
“I’ll respect them when they respect me. Especially Dad. When he accepts that I’m an individual, and I’m striking out on my own path.”
“Maybe when you actually do it, you’ll get the respect you want.” Jake kept one hand on the wheel, but he reached over and ruffled Luke’s hair. “You little pioneer.”
“Shut up, asshole.” Luke scowled and concentrated on not breathing through his nose. “Furthermore, when were you planning to ask my permission to date my twin? I’m the closest to her. She’s more mine than anyone else’s. And I didn’t give you permission to even like her at all.”
And though Jake laughed, Luke hadn’t joined him.
“I’m not kidding, you fucker. You should really ask me.”
“All right, all right. Luke, may I please invite your sister out for dinner? May I have your authorization, your expressed permission, your endorsement, your seal of approval to like your sister?”
“No.”
Jake had laughed, but again it was unaccompanied.
“And how will you stop me? Sing a ballad? Do a dance? Convince me in catchy verse that I don’t love everything about her? That I don’t hang on her every word? That I don’t get butterflies when I think of her? Go on. Burst into song. I’ll stop the van, and you can tap dance on the roof.”
“You’re a douche bag. A fucking douche bag.”
“Come on.” Jake punched his arm playfully. “It’s dinner. No drinking and driving. No drugs. No PG-13 movies. I’ll bring her back by ten. I promise.”
“One dinner. One. I’ll grant you that since I’m a generous person. Even to dickheads.”
“Relax. She’s not going anywhere. I’m not asking her to marry me, Luke.”
“You should promise me you’ll never do that either.”
“That I cannot do, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend. And why not?”
Luke stared at Jake and forgot to breathe through his mouth. The stench of decomposing flesh crept over the menthol and, combined with the horrific notion, made him sick to his stomach. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. If Beau went with him, she might keep liking him. The bastard was likeable—only Luke had been immune to his conniving tricks. Jake could take her away. Not temporarily. Forever. And he’d be all alone. Luke felt alone now except for Beau. If Jake asked her to be his wife, she’d say “yes” and would belong to him instead.
“I keep my promises.” Jake turned and winked at him—a wink of pure evil.
✩
As they stood beside the casket, Luke patted his sister’s hair.
I’m not a sicko. I just don’t want anyone to have her. I want her to be mine again. We’re a team.
He liked pretending Jake was still only Jay’s apprentice, not his brother-in-law. One of the good things about his father’s death had been that Beau had come home. Down the hall, in her old room. He could walk only five steps if he wanted to talk to her in the middle of the night. It was a nice daydream.
To be sixteen again.
That’d been perfect. When there was Jake, but he had yet to metastasize through the family. He’d been useful in deflecting his father’s attention, and Luke hadn’t had to go on many removals. Beau hadn’t been interested in him and had been Luke’s only companion. Jake had liked Beau, but he’d been too shy, too gentlemanly, too much of a fucking pussy to do anything. And that was the age when he’d had that first role in the high school production. He’d felt on the threshold of a great and promising future. The realization of his gift. Sixteen.
Luke tried to block out the viewing room and imagined being drawn back into that flawless past with Beau.
How long will you stay with me? I can get over Dad’s death and failing in New York. As long as I can keep you one room away. You may be hiding something about Tom DuBelle, but you’d never lie about anything important. We can ignore
everyone else. You’ll stay with me if I ask. You’ll do anything I need you to do. You love me, and you’re the only one who understands me.
As if she heard his thoughts, Beau hugged his neck. It was wonderful, and he felt reassured. But when he looked at his mother being comforted by Jake, the reality returned.
Beau couldn’t stay. She was pregnant. And his father was dead. And he was a failure. And his mother didn’t need him. She had Jake, the good son. No one needed him. He might as well not exist.
Why do you like him? Why do you have to have his baby and tie yourself to him forever? You’ll have even less time for me with his baby fastened to you. Why can’t you lose it like the last one? Just fucking lose it!
Luke felt a cold sweat break across his shoulder blades. He hardly heard Jackie clear her throat, shocked that such a despicable wish could come into his head.
You’re one sick motherfucker. How could you have a thought that evil? You’d hate me if you knew me as well as you think you do, Beau.
His mother coughed loudly again, and Luke finally turned. She gave him a stern look, gesturing him forward with a slight motion of her closed hand.
He released Beau, who didn’t waste any time returning to Jake’s waiting arms.
That’s all I am. A placeholder for that dickwad.
But Luke went to his mother and tried to forget it.
“This is yours.” Jackie held out her fist. She dropped Jay’s gold high school class ring into his palm.
His fingers curled around it, and his hand shook. Jay had worn this ring every day, but now it was cold. As Luke worked it onto the first knuckle of his middle finger he felt the engraved lettering of the date his father had bought the ring etched into its undersurface.
“And you—” Jackie interrupted herself with a choke and offered Jay’s wedding band to Beau. Her voice was coarse and craggy. “This is for you.”
“I don’t want it, Mom.” She wiped a sleeve across her face and looped her arms tight around Jake.
“He wanted both of you to have them.”
“They’re his. Let them go with him. What are we going to do but cry over them?”
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