by Jane Charles
“While completing the FBI training requirements. Some guy that had never held a gun before.”
“And shot you in the ass.”
“I believe we already established that fact.”
“So, why the tattoo?”
“Too much tequila and persuasive friends.” I pull the shirt over my head. “They thought it would be really cool if I had the image of the bullet entering my cheek, just where I was hit.”
“Then plied you with tequila.”
My stomach rolls just at the memory. Not getting the tattoo, but how I felt the next day. “I’m never drinking that stuff again.”
“When was this?”
“The weekend we graduated. I spent the first day drinking tequila with so-called new friends.”
“And getting a tattoo.”
I give her a non-appreciative grin. “And spent the second day puking my guts out. I haven’t been drunk since.”
Chapter Sixteen
It is a nice tattoo. Very detailed. Almost looks real. At least he didn’t pick a shitty tattoo artist in his drunken state. “Shouldn’t there be rules that drunk people can’t get tattoos?”
“They guy we picked was good but he won’t do tattoos on anyone under the influence of anything.”
“They why’d he tattoo a bullet on your ass?”
“We went in earlier. I told him what I wanted, paid for it, and said when I came back I would be drunk.”
“And that worked for him.”
“Apparently.”
“So, it wasn’t the tequila.”
“It was all tequila. I only went in to get my buddies off of my back. I had no intention of going back.”
“Thus the tequila.”
“I’ll never trust those bastards again.”
“No longer friends?” Geez to lose friends over a drunk night and a tattoo is kind of extreme.
“Two of them are my best friends. I just don’t trust them.” He grins at me.
“We should probably head back. The family should be gathering in the commune.”
He pulls me close and then runs his fingers through my hair. “That’s better. I don’t want your family to know what we’ve been up to when I’m meeting them for the first time.”
“Does everything look in place?”
“Yes.” He snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me close. “That was nice. Really nice.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Even if it was frenzied and out of control, it was probably the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
“Will I pass?”
I study him from head to toe. “You’ll do. Nobody will suspect a thing.”
We step outside and I close the door behind us. It’s never locked because nobody knows it’s here except family.
Brett grabs my hand and my stomach tightens. I really should warn him and now is a good of a time as any. “Um, there is something I need to tell you about today.”
“Okay,” he says slowly.
“First, I need to explain about the family and the foundation.”
“If you want me to not be there, just say so.”
Why the hell would he think I didn’t want him there? I would have cancelled before today. “No,” I insist. “Besides, even if I didn’t, which I do, my uncle expects you there and now my grandmother too.”
He relaxes beside me. “Then tell me about the family and foundation.”
I take a deep breath and pray he doesn’t run off. “There is a foundation, the Baxter Foundation that was set up by my grandparents fifteen or twenty years ago.” I turn onto the main trail and slow my steps. I don’t want us to arrive before I’m finished. “That’s when Grandpa also changed his will, as did his children, or at least I suspect they did because my parents did around the same time.”
I look into his light blue eyes. “The Baxters have a lot of money. I mean a lot.” He probably already knows, but it’s necessary that he does to explain the dynamics of the situation. “They always have, ever since the plantation was built. They didn’t suffer through wars, the worst of the economy, not even the Depression.”
“That’s rather impressive.”
“The family has always believed it is because of something like karma.”
“Not sound financial planning?”
“That too,” I roll my eyes. “But they’ve always felt they had much more than anybody could ever want or need, so they give. My grandfather supported the town during the Depression. He gave jobs to everyone who lost one, loans to help them keep houses, that kind of thing.”
“I’m surprised the town isn’t named after him.”
“They wanted to.” I smile. “He said he didn’t need or want his name on any damn town.”
“And for your grandfather, it was the camp.”
“At first it was the living history. He hired actors and tradesmen and they’d do these weekends and stuff. It was all free and he’d have special events just for schoolkids and things like that. When people were no longer interested he started the art camp, but it wasn’t what he had hoped for.”
“Until the foster kids came.”
“It changed everything. He knew what he wanted to do. Needed to do and he was so passionate about the camp and looked forward to every summer.” Grandfather used to glow when talking about the purpose of the camp and how these kids were being helped, as if he had a real purpose again.
“So this foundation supports the camp?”
“Yes, and other philanthropic interests.”
“And your aunts and uncles make up the foundation?”
“My Uncle Mark is the CEO and also runs the camp. The rest of my aunts and uncles sit on the board. As soon as a grandchild is eighteen, they become a voting member.”
He nods and is probably wondering why the hell I’m telling him all of this.
“It’s a requirement and part of his will.” Maybe I should leave that part out, but it’s too late now. “There is a trust set up for every member of the family and for the foundation. To continue to receive funds you must have complete high school and pursuing a career. Nobody is allowed to just sit back and live off money that is being handed to them.”
“Why?”
Brett seems confused and if he had any idea the amount of wealth we had, he’d really be confused. But, a lot of that goes to the camp, or tied up in trusts. “You can’t appreciate what you have without working for it.”
He nods as if he approves.
“Two! You must be active in the foundation, which means active at the camp.”
“How can they do both if they have to have careers too?”
“Everyone does what they can based on availability. And, wives don’t have to work once they start having children as long as the husband is pursuing a career.”
“That’s kind of old fashioned.”
“Grandfather was born in 1934. He wasn’t really happy with the feminist movement.” I laugh. “Or some of the changes in society, like when his youngest daughter became pregnant and she refused to marry the father.”
“So, what happens if they don’t do what is expected, like the jobs and the camp?”
“They no longer receive any of their trust fund. It’s set up to be paid out every five years. Each of us gets a deposit. The first is strictly for college. After that, we are required to give a third to helping others. It can be the camp or any other charity that is important to us.”
“Are they okay with you not taking the teaching job?”
“I did have to get permission from the Foundation, but they know as much about Theo’s struggles as I do and fully supported me.” I glance up at him. “There are exceptions to every rule. And, because I’m also going to graduate school, I’m not required to give to the charity until I graduate. I can’t help anyone if I can’t finish school.”
“Your other brother, Tyler. He’s not in school or here.”
“Ah, that’s different. He’s serving the country. That trumps everything as far as my grandparents and every
one else is concerned.”
“And, your parents have the same will?” Brett winces. “Never mind. That’s none of my business.”
“It’s no big deal. I pretty much think all my aunts and uncles changed their wills to read like Grandfather’s.” Well, not everyone. “Except perhaps Aunt Julie and Aunt Lisa.”
“Who are they?”
“The youngest daughters, and also most rebellious. They do only as much as they need to stay within the limits but nothing else. I can’t imagine they’d do the same thing to their kids.”
“Which one had the kid?”
“Aunt Lisa. Love her, but she’s a bit flighty.” Just thinking about her makes me laugh. “Aunt Julie, however, did marry the father of her children, about three months before Brooke was born, but she’s had four husbands since. I’m not sure if she’s even married right now.”
“So, why are you telling me all of this now?”
Good question and the very reason I started telling him all this. “Because, a meeting has been called for this afternoon and I wanted to warn you.”
“Meeting?”
“Theo told Grandmother about the school he’d like to see. She thinks it’s a fantastic idea and since every voting family member will be here for the picnic, minus Tyler, it’s the perfect time to introduce the topic.”
“I’ll make sure and leave before that then.”
“No. Grandmother expect you there.”
“Why?”
I sure as hell am not going to tell Brett that my grandmother expects us to marry one day. He’ll run for the hills and never look back. “She just gets strange ideas and likes you.” That’s all he needs to know right now. “And, she thinks it’s good for those not associated with the foundation to be present sometimes. To bring a different perspective.”
His blue eyes widen in alarm. “I’m not going to say anything.”
“You probably won’t get a chance.” If the meeting goes like they all do, everyone will be talking over each other until a decision is made.
Well, at least he’s still here and hasn’t run off. Then again, he hasn’t met the rest of the family. I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes his excuses as soon as we are done eating. I kind of wish I could.
Brett squeezes my hands in his, but his brows are drawn together like he’s worried. “This all kind of intimidates me.”
“Don’t let it. My family can be a bit much, but they aren’t a bad group.”
“Not the family, but where you come from.”
I should have anticipated this. “The money?”
“Yeah. Both of my parents worked full time. Dad in a factory, often taking on double shifts just to make ends meet, and Mom was a secretary at a car dealership. I’m not sure I’ll ever pay my school loans off and your family friends are probably listed in Forbes.”
Shit! I should have seen this coming. “They are down to earth, and none of them, well other than Aunt Lisa and Aunt Julie, have anything to do with that part of society.
He gives me a skeptical look.
“My mom was a dancer turned choreographer. My Aunt Cheryl married a rookie cop, Uncle Gary. She met him while working as a nurse.”
He smiles. “My Uncle Quinn met his wife in the ER, where she also worked as a nurse. I think it’s a common matchup.”
“Well, when you work crazy hours, how else are you going to meet people?”
“There are always well-meaning friends.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “We can’t discount them.”
“True.” I chuckle. Why did I fight Ashley on meeting Brett? To think, he could have been in my life two weeks earlier. While that isn’t that much time, it’s still two weeks I could have had. “None of the spouses came from money. In fact, most of them were raised in the poor to middle class, so don’t let my family intimidate you.” It’s important that he not think we are anything special because we aren’t. Just an average family, who also happens to be rich. “You’ll see. Outside of the two youngest aunts, you’d never guess any of them have money.”
Brett squeezes my hands and his eyes darken. “You’re an intriguing individual, Jacqueline Baxter.”
“As are you, Brett Robak.”
We emerge from the woods where we entered. There aren’t just a few people setting up here anymore but a ton mingling about. Kids are playing in the sand, food is getting placed on a long table and a couple of guys are standing around the grills. Well, she did say she had a large family and I guess now it’s time to meet them. A few smile and nod when they see us. Others have a curious look in their eyes and I’ve never been so self-conscious in my life.
Theo saunters up and looks me over and then Jackie before he smirks. “Did you show Brett the fishing shack?”
Shit! How can he tell? It’s not like we’re carrying poles or anything.
Theo reaches into this sister’s long, light brown hair and pulls out a short piece of fishing line with a couple of yellow feathers attached to it. How the hell did I miss that when I smoothed out her hair?
“We were walking and I was just showing Brett around. Must have brushed up against the shelves.” She shrugs it off as no big deal and I sure as hell am not going to say anything.
Theo’s mouth quirks and he shakes his head. Her brother suspects the truth, or maybe I’m just feeling guilty for some reason. Hell, Theo’s eighteen. I wonder how many girls he’s had back there. I would have made use of that shack when I was his age, and not for fishing.
“Hey, Jackie, help me will you?” an older woman who is trying to carry four pitchers calls.
I start off to follow her and help, but Theo grasps my upper arm.
I look into his dark brown yes.
“You break her heart or hurt her in any way, I will kill you.”
His tone is quiet, but very, very serious. I get it. He’s her brother. I’d have the same conversation with any guy who might be banging my sister.
“That is the last thing I want to do.” I glance over at Jackie, my body warms and heart skips for a second. “In fact, I really hope she doesn’t break mine.” That’s about as close to a confession as I’m comfortable making at this point. To myself or her brother.
Theo’s grip loosens and he lets go of my bicep. “Good to know.” With that, he saunters away from and lifts the camera from around his neck and starts taking pictures.
There are so many Baxters. Even though many of them have different last names because of marriages, each one is still a Baxter. A product of Jackie’s grandparent’s marriage. There are so many names to remember and I’ve already forgotten half of them when we sit down to eat. I’ve answered questions about my school, being in the Army and my career, and get nods of approval. I’m not sure how I’d feel if they became judgmental. Not that anything I’ve done is something to be ashamed of. I did, however, not discuss my family much. Just the basics of what my mom and dad did and that I have four sisters. They don’t need to know anything else. They are practically strangers. Hell, I haven’t even told Jackie the sordid details. If I had it my way, nobody would ever know, but if things keep moving in the right direction with Jackie, she’ll eventually find out. Hopefully she won’t be put off. But, the fact that she is so involved with this camp gives me hope that she’s be more understanding than most and not worry that some things, like deep depression, might be inherited.
Jackie was right in that they do talk over each other, a lot, with all kinds of conversations going on around me. I listen and don’t take part. Not that I could get a word in if I wanted to. A few times she flashes me a smile, but says nothing. And, the entire time, Theo is taking pictures. He’s barely stopped to eat and when he did, it wasn’t near enough for a kid his age.
“Theo is never without his camera,” Jackie says. “I think he might even sleep with it.”
“Into photography, huh?”
“Into it? It’s his passion and some of his photos are so brilliant. You’ll have to see his work sometime.”
“I’d like that.�
� Maybe he could give me some tips because I suck at photography and it’s kind of important not to get a blurry picture when taking pictures at crime scenes. Theo lifts the Nikon, adjusts the lens and snaps a shot. “Nice camera too.”
“35 mm.”
“Really?” I didn’t think anyone used film anymore.
“A purist, as he has told me. And, don’t even think about asking him why he prefers one over the other or you’ll be stuck in an hour long conversation with your eyes glassing over within ten minutes.”
“How about a beer, Brett?” her Uncle Gary asks me.
“No thanks.” They are all within walking distance of their homes, and on a private lane, I’ve still got to drive. “The tea is good.”
Aunt Robin smiles. Apparently she must have made the tea.
After everyone has eaten and Mrs. Baxter has blown out the candle on her cake, anyone under the age of eighteen is sent off. The older kids grumble about have to watch the younger ones around the water. Not that anyone is a toddler. The littlest, Willow, I think, is about eight or nine.
I get up from the table as well. They are going to discuss a family matter. Or foundation matter, and I shouldn’t be here.
“Sit,” Mrs. Baxter orders, shocking me, and I slowly sink back down on the picnic bench and slide a look at Jackie.
She just shrugs and smiles.
And in that moment, the table gets serious. No more jokes, laughter or teasing. In the blink of an eye they’ve gone from family picnic to serious board meeting. Jackie included.
Mrs. Baxter introduces the topic of the school but it is Theo who explains how it would work and why it is needed. “This is all preliminary,” he says at the end. “But, I believe it is something the foundation should seriously research.”
The family listens and seems to give it consideration, and then the questions began. One being the cost and how they could pay for it. Then wondering what the requirements were needed to run a private school. How many teachers, how many students, required curriculum? With each discussion, acceptance of the potential idea began to die. Theo’s posture changed from relaxed to tense, his jaw clenched.
“Would you at least look into it? Research!” His fist slams down on the table. “None of you fucking know what this is like.”
