by L. M. Carr
“Ace was my older brother.”
“What?! You have a brother?” I squawk, completely bewildered by his statement.
“Had.”
Reflected in his eyes is the sadness I used to see whenever I told someone about Paul.
“Did he di—”
A single solemn nod is provided as confirmation.
“I...I didn’t know,” I stammer. “What happened?”
Adjusting my body against his, Andrew places his chin on my shoulder.
“I was fourteen when he died.”
“Oh my God, Andrew. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
A million questions surface and circulate around my brain until one falls from my lips. “Why would your parents act like they only had one child? She talked about Ace all the time. I assumed she was referring to you. I mean, she never said she had two sons.”
“That’s because in her mind, she only had one.”
“What?” I cry, baffled by his words. “I’m so confused. The pictures in her office...those aren’t of you?”
I feel the shake of his head.
“But why? Why would she do that?”
Andrew clears his throat quietly before he begins. “My parents had two sons but really only ever acknowledged one.” I can almost hear the emotion in his sullen voice.
I offer a gesture of comfort and slip my hand over his but am shocked when Andrew intertwines our fingers.
“Aaron was four years older than me and for four years, he had my parents’ undivided attention. Being only children themselves, my father didn’t want that for his only son. He wanted more kids and he especially wanted a daughter, but my mother was afraid she could never love another child as much as she loved Aaron...and she was right.”
I close my eyes when moisture hinders my sight, and the lights from distant houses across the lake blur.
“Added to the mix was the fact that I was a really sick kid. Instead of considering me a blessing, I was a burden, and every day,” he chokes out, “every fucking day Aaron reminded me.”
Swallowing the boulder in my throat, I apologize for his mistreatment by his own family—his own flesh and blood. “That’s so horrible.” I sniff and wipe my tears with the blanket.
“It was a long time ago, Morgan.”
“What happened to Aaron?”
Andrew breathes in sharply before finally exhaling. “I did what most kids who felt slighted would do. I acted out. I got into fights. I broke things on purpose and I defied everything I was told to do.”
“You were just looking for attention.”
“Oh, I got it alright. My mother would fly off the handle, scream and lash out with a quick hand, saying how much she regretted having me. And Aaron would torment the shit out of me.”
The woman Andrew is describing is not the same woman I worked for. Diana Darling was wonderful; she was loving, warm and so generous. She never had an unkind word for anyone unless she was in one of her moods.
“I can’t believe Diana was like that.”
Andrew spits angrily, “Do you think I’m lying? You have no idea what she was like.”
I rub his arm gently, soothing away his anger. “No! That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just so hard to believe she was so cold-hearted to you, her own flesh and blood. What about your dad?”
I feel him shrug. “He never stood up for me. Whatever my mother said or did, he went along with it. He loved her more than anyone. And then Aaron died.”
A gust of cool air blows and chills me to the bone. I sit quietly and wait for Andrew to continue retelling the details of his sorrowful past.
“I had hockey practice and I was up to my usual antics to piss my brother and my mother off. At the time, I thought having them yell at me was better than being ignored entirely.”
A flash of comparison enters my mind, and I realize how vastly different our family dynamics were.
“My mother was driving and complaining about how she had to drive in an ice storm. I made some wise ass comment, and she turned her head and reached back to hit me like she always did, but I moved behind the driver’s seat.” He forces a hard swallow. “By the time she realized she had crossed the yellow lines, it was too late. The garbage truck was heading our way. I remember she tried desperately to cut the wheel to the left, but the plow attached to the front of the city refuse truck T-boned the passenger side of our car.”
I tremble with grief for what he had to experience and endure.
“I remember being strapped down into a gurney, watching my brother being airlifted as my mother was loaded into a waiting ambulance. When her eyes found mine, I expected her to say something kind or reassuring toward me, but she didn’t.”
A garbled cry escapes from my lips. “I’m so sorry.”
“The day they took Aaron off life support, I was told to wait outside the room. I never even got the chance to say goodbye to him. Don’t get me wrong, he was a mean motherfucker, but he was the only brother I had.”
“I don’t underst—” my voice cracks and the ache in my throat becomes almost unbearable.
“When my parents came out of the room, my father walked by, but my mother...she turned slowly and looked at me,” he hesitates. “She said she wished I had died instead.”
Turning suddenly, I bury my face in his chest and cry for him. His strong arms wrap around my back tightly and he holds me close. He places a long hard kiss on my head just above my ear.
“I’m sorry your parents did that to you. You have to know you didn’t deserve that. You were their son. You were entitled to their love.” My hands ball into fists. “I’m so angry with them. I hate what they did to you.”
“My mother was a sick woman. It wasn’t her fault really.”
“Bullshit! She knew enough to love one son but not the other?”
“I’ve spent years in therapy trying to figure it all out,” he laughs lightly.
“How can you make light of this?” I inquire.
“After Aaron died, my mother had a mental breakdown. There was nothing I could do to get her attention. I tried everything. I guess I tried to be the son she loved, but it was no use. My father figured having me around was too much of a reminder of what she lost so he sent me away to boarding school. I didn’t go home for holidays or summers. They didn’t acknowledge me anymore; it was like I was dead to them.”
“But you said you lived in the pool house when you were in college.”
“I did for a few months, but she was usually gone. She would leave for long periods of time when I was here. My mother basically acted like I was a stranger to her. I think she hated the idea that I was living my life and her golden child was buried in the ground. It was right about that time that her mental health started to really deteriorate. She was becoming delusional and started talking about Ace like he was still alive. I think in her sick mind, I was him. Her doctors adjusted her medication, but nothing seemed to work so that night...the night I met you, my father told me to leave. He said if I loved her at all, I would go. He gave me the number to a bank account and told me if he had to choose, he’d choose her. Even if I wanted to stay, I couldn’t.”
“That’s why you left and went to Colorado?”
His lips tighten and he nods.
“Every few years, I tried to get in touch with her, but the number was changed or disconnected. Victor kept me updated every now and then.”
“But she always asked your dad if Ace called. What was that about?”
Andrew clears his throat. “My father insisted that she receive a phone call every couple of months...from Aaron.”
“But—”
“Diana was a very sick woman, Morgan. The person you knew lived her life in a drug-induced haze. Why do you think she was so happy all the time?”
“Oh my God, so you called her and pretended...” I cover my mouth in shock. “But why?”
“My father and I had a deal. It worked for both of us. He loved my mother so much; he couldn’t bea
r to see her like that so I guess he figured false hope was better than no hope at all. I never actually spoke to her. I would just leave voice messages.”
A lull created by the absence of words settles and gives us each a moment to ponder.
“Can I ask you a question?” I twist to face him.
He nods.
“Why were you so upset that night I came into your house?”
A small tip of his lip suggests he’s amused. “You mean the night you broke into my house?”
“You were banging on the drums for hours!”
“I told you I like to bang,” he says with a smirk.
“Be serious,” I say, tilting my head and casting stern eyes at him. “You were so upset. You lamented like I’ve never seen anyone. Your grief was palpable. It hurt to see.”
“Then you shouldn’t have watched.”
I widen my eyes. “Andrew, please! I already apologized a million times.”
“I know you have.” He looks away then returns his attention to me and sighs. “I’m usually pretty good at keeping my emotions in check. I can compartmentalize really well. After all, I had years of practice, but I am only human.”
I place my hand against his chest and feel his heartbeat beneath the sweatshirt. “We all are.”
“It was my brother’s birthday. He would’ve been thirty-seven and I wondered what his life would’ve been like. Then the guilt crept in and won, taunting me mercilessly that it was my fault he’s gone. Then I got to thinking that maybe if I hadn’t been such an asshole to my mother, that I could’ve saved her from herself. If I had been a better son...”
“No way! You can’t possibly believe that. Andrew, none of this was your fault. Sure, you didn’t have to be a little shithead.” I smile. “But you did the best you did. Everybody needs love and attention.”
Cupping my cheeks with his big hands, Andrew draws my face closer. “I’ve never told anyone what I just told you.” He places a chaste kiss on my mouth before deepening the kiss. I accept his affection whole-heartedly and return it with fervor until I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze. “Thank you for trusting me.”
♦♦♦
The smell of my mother’s delicious French toast casserole drifts under the door and wakes me, encouraging me to join the rest of my family around the kitchen table.
“Andrew,” I whisper, feeling an empty spot on the bed. “Andrew?”
I rise and dress quickly, throwing my hair up into a loose ponytail. A quick glance to where Andrew’s clothes were confirms that he must already be downstairs.
“There’s my sleeping beauty,” my father announces as I round the corner and enter the kitchen. “How’d you sleep, princess?” I kiss my dad’s stubbly cheek. “Fine.”
My cheeks flush and I dart my eyes to Andrew who is sitting at the far end of the table with a generous portion of food on his plate.
“Thanks for waking me up,” I whisper, giving him a side-eye.
“I tried, but you were snoring so loud.”
I stab a sausage link with a fork and take a slow bite while keeping my eyes on him. “I do not snore.”
The back door slides open and I freeze mid-chew.
“Why is he here?” I ask my mother as I motion to the door with a snarl on my face.
My own eyes widen at her eye roll.
“Honey, Mason is always welcome here. He’s like family.”
I cut my eyes to Andrew and notice his jaw is set firmly as he sips his coffee.
Mason places a bottle filled with homemade maple syrup down on the table and uses a Swiss Army knife to cut the plastic off. “I’ve got plenty more of where that came from so don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Couldn’t you use a pair of scissors like a normal person?” I scoff as I pour a glass of orange juice and take a seat next to Andrew.
“I’ll have you know this knife saved my life several times.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t exaggerate.”
A few minutes later, Gabe walks in carrying Connor in the crook of his elbow followed by Molly with a box of donuts.
“Thanks for waiting for us!” my brother quips as he sets Connor down in the highchair.
“Where’s Cooper?” my dad asks, knowing my eldest brother doesn’t miss Sunday breakfast unless there’s an emergency.
I catch Gabe’s eyes and understand immediately.
“There’s a two alarm down in—”
“What?” my mom gasps.
“Ma!” Gabe shouts, “He’s okay. It’s about ninety percent contained.”
My father jumps to his feet to console his wife who is on the verge of hysterics. Having already lost one son, my mother has always hated what Cooper does for work.
Settling back down for breakfast, I mouth to Gabe and he nods in understanding and agreement. Moments later, the house phone rings and my mom rises to answer it.
“Oh, Cooper, thank God! I was worried sick,” my mother cries into the phone, clutching her chest.
“Yes, of course. I’ll make some more right now, son. Love you.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, my mother rejoins the table and sips her coffee.
“Everything okay?” Gabe asks knowingly.
Mom smiles and nods. “I don’t know how the three of you manage to do it. Maybe it’s some weird sibling telepathy, but thank you for asking him to call. You have no idea how much I love you kids. You are my life, my entire universe. I would do absolutely anything for you.”
My dad chimes in and elicits laughter from us. “Well sheesh, what am I? Chopped liver?”
“Join the club,” Mason tosses in a snarky remark and flashes his eyes to mine.
“So what are your plans for the company?” Molly asks regarding the future of Designs and Advertising by Darling.
I look at Andrew and speak at the same time he does.
“Expand,” I say while he says, “Maybe sell.”
Squawking, my voice rises. “What? We’re not selling the company!”
“I didn’t say we were,” he corrects. “But I might sell my half.”
A cold feeling seeps into my heart. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” he mumbles before taking a sip of orange juice. I think back to last night when he finally opened up and revealed so much of his pain and history. I thought we had crossed a line, but apparently, I was wrong.
Having lost my appetite, I rise from the table, put my dish in the sink and thank my mother for a delicious breakfast. “I’m going to shower so we can hit the road. I’ve got a ton of things to do and I’m sure Andrew has people to do.”
“What?!” Molly coughs and sputters as she sips her tea.
Catching my mistake, I clarify through laughter. “Things to do. I’m sure Andrew has things to do.”
I shower quickly, skipping a shave, then wrap a towel around my body, tucking it in under my arm and step into my room. My eyes bulge in shock then look around. “Mason! What are you doing?”
He rises and strides across the room. “Shhh!” he whispers as he caresses my bare arms. “Why are you doing this to me?” His eyes bore into mine. “Are you trying to make me jealous? Are you trying to punish me for what happened all those years ago?”
My mouth opens and I begin to protest, but his lips crush against mine.
“Mason! What the fuck!” I push him away and swipe the saliva from his tongue off my lips with the back of my hand.
“I made a mistake. I never should’ve chosen Tessa. I should’ve come back and chosen you. I’m choosing you now.”
I shake my head. “You can’t choose me.” I put a hand on his chest when he comes closer. “I don’t want you.”
Tipping his head, his brown eyes search my face. “You belong to me. You only brought him here to make me jealous. He doesn’t know you like I do. He’s not good for you, Morgan.”
“Mason, I’m not sure what happened to you, but have you lost your goddamned mind? You’re acting like a crazy p
erson! I don’t want you and you don’t want me.”
Exhaling deeply with a hint of sadness, Mason steps back and sits on my bed then hangs his head. “I’m sorry. This...seeing you...with him...it made me realize I miss having someone special in my life. I don’t think I’ll ever find it again.”
I reach for my robe and slip it on, careful not to let the towel fall. “Divorce is hard. It’s going to take some time, but I promise you one thing—life does go on.”
Rolling his head to look at me, Mason smiles and hugs me hesitantly. “I’ll always love you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I counter. “No, I was the annoying little sister turned girlfriend.”
Silence falls between us.
“You love him, don’t you?”
My eyebrows furrow. “Who?”
“Andrew.”
“I don—” I start then stop. “He’s...it’s complicated.” Glancing over to his bag, a small smile tugs on my lips. “But I do care about him very much.”
♦♦♦
With only thirty minutes left until we reach the place Andrew and I both call home these days, I close the social media app and toss my phone into my bag, attempting once again to engage him in conversation.
“Is everything okay?” I’d asked several times.
I’m good was his reply.
“So when were you going to tell me that you wanted to sell your half of the company?”
“Paige suggested I either sell or invest more money to really capitalize on what I already have.”
“What would Paige know about advertising?” I hiss. Just saying her name produces a rancid taste in my mouth.
He shrugs. “I don’t know that she does necessarily. She has a degree in hotel management. She’s interested in helping me branch off to make the most of my capital since I’m not really into designing or advertising.”
“I didn’t realize she was so concerned or interested about your capital.”
Andrew looks at me with a thoughtful gaze.
“What?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable with his eyes pinned on me.
“Are you jealous?” he teases.
“Jealous?” I scoff then swallow the word yes. “Of what?”
Andrew gives me a pointed, suggestive look.
“No, I’m not jealous. Besides, I have nothing to be jealous about. You’re nothing to me.”
