by Susannah Nix
“Is that all?”
“No. I want everyone else you’ve been using these bullying tactics on let off the hook too. No more liens, no more HOA threats. If someone doesn’t want to sell, you accept it and move on.”
His eyebrows twitched. “And if I don’t?”
I straightened my spine and crossed my arms as I stared down at him. “Then I’ll start telling anyone who’ll listen everything I know about you. The way you do business behind closed doors, the kind of father you were…” I paused for effect before I unleashed my bombshell. “And I’ll tell everyone about the affairs—including the one you had while my mother was dying.”
I watched him digest what I’d just said. I’d never told him I knew about his infidelity. How he’d betrayed my mother, both before and after her cancer diagnosis. That he’d been sleeping with his current wife, Heather, the whole time my mom was going through chemo.
I’d seen them kissing once. At the hospital, of all damn places. My mom had been in surgery, and my dad had left us in the waiting room with Ryan while he went outside to take a call. I looked out the window, and there they were in the parking lot. Playing tonsil hockey while my mother was on the operating table.
After that I’d started watching my dad more closely. Keeping track of his comings and goings. Snooping through his stuff. Eavesdropping on phone conversations. I’d figured out a lot about his extracurricular activities and just how long they’d been going on.
Because my mother had died so young and my dad had seemed to grieve so much, everyone assumed their marriage had been perfect before it was tragically cut short. A myth had evolved about my mother, that she was the one true love of my dad’s life, and they would have stayed together if she hadn’t died, and wasn’t it all so terribly sad, blah blah blah. The fact that he’d married Heather six months after my mom’s death hadn’t done anything to puncture the fairy tale. He’d been so inconsolable, everyone whispered sympathetically, it was a shame that in his weakened state he’d let himself be ensnared by the first gold digger who happened along.
Except I knew better. And I’d only ever told one person on earth about it: Brady. I’d never even told Tanner or Ryan, because Brady had told me not to. He’d said they had enough to carry without adding that to their burden. So I’d carried it by myself.
The cheating wasn’t the only reason I had to resent my dad, but it was a big one. All this time I’d been holding it against him, and he’d had no idea I’d known about it.
Until now.
It must have shed new light on some aspects of our relationship for him. But if he was reassessing any of his assumptions about me, he didn’t let it show. My dad had a first-rate poker face. It was one of the things that made him so good at business.
His expression remained neutral and his voice infuriatingly calm when he said, “Are you sure you’re prepared for the fallout from something like that? It’s not just me that kind of talk will hurt.”
I was all too well aware of that. It was why I’d carried his secret for so long. The ugly truth might embarrass him, but it would also hurt some of my brothers and sisters. Tanner and Ryan, for a start. Not to mention Cody and Riley, my dad’s kids with Heather.
And then there was what the scandal could mean for the business. My dad’s reputation as a loving family man, benevolent business owner, and pillar of his community were fundamental to the company’s image. He was the face of King’s Creamery. The genial father figure at the bow of the ship.
Throwing dirt on that image would impact the company’s revenues. I didn’t doubt that the business would survive it, but the financial consequences would ripple through my whole family—and a lot of the town.
Even so, I was prepared to do it. My father had crossed a line this time and I couldn’t stand by and let him get away with it. I would do whatever it took to protect Andie. If people were hurt in the process, it’d be my father’s chickens coming home to roost. His own mistakes and his alone to blame for it.
I met his gaze steadily and spoke with steel in my voice. “Try me.”
He studied me for a long moment, undoubtedly evaluating the depth of my conviction. Deciding whether to call my bluff.
“Why now?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve clearly waited years to play this card. Is it the girl?”
“Her name’s Andie,” I growled.
“You care about her that much?” He looked surprised. “Are you in love with her?”
“None of your goddamn business.” I wasn’t looking to have a heart-to-heart with my father about my romantic life. That wasn’t a subject I ever wanted to discuss with this man.
“You are. You’re in love with her.” He shook his head, smiling. “My god. I never thought I’d see the day. Finally.”
“Finally what?” I was confused by my father’s sudden change of mood. His words sounded like he was taunting me, but the edge had gone out of his tone.
“You finally let yourself care about something enough to fight for it.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn’t have a comeback ready. While I stood there blinking at him, my dad picked up his phone and found a number in his contacts. He put it on speaker and set it on his desk. A man picked up on the second ring.
“George, what can I do for you?”
“Bob, did you file paperwork to put a lien on Andrea Lockhart’s house, by any chance?”
“I did. Last week.”
My dad glanced up at me, arching an eyebrow. “I take it that was at Daniel’s behest?”
“That’s right. He’s got me working with the HOAs.”
“I’m gonna need you to get that lien released, Bob. Today.”
“Okay.” Bob sounded confused by the request, but not enough to argue with my father. “If that’s what you want.”
“Let’s get Ms. Lockhart’s debt wiped clean, all outstanding fees waived, and I don’t want any of this showing up on her credit rating. Do you understand me? Make sure no one bothers this girl anymore.”
“Gotcha.”
“Thanks. And let’s set up a meeting with Daniel sometime this week. I’ll have Connie get in touch about the scheduling.”
“Sure thing, George.”
“Thanks, Bob. I appreciate it.”
“Have a good one.”
My father ended the call and looked up at me. “Satisfied?”
I nodded, trying to school my expression to cover my surprise. I hadn’t expected him to roll over this easily. “What about the other people you’ve been hassling?”
“That’s what the meeting with Daniel is about. I’ll let him know I don’t approve of his tactics. We’ll make things right with everyone he’s been targeting. You have my word on that.”
I nodded again, feeling off-balance. Now that the focus of my wrath had been neutralized, the head of steam I’d worked up had nowhere to go. “Fine.”
“I didn’t know what Daniel was doing,” my father said. “And I sure didn’t know he’d targeted a friend of yours.”
“You should have known. How many times have I heard you tell people the buck stops with you?” He might have kept his nose out of the specifics, but I didn’t for a second believe he’d been surprised to hear what was being done to line his pockets. His ignorance had been an intentional choice in order to maintain deniability.
“You’re right,” he replied solemnly. “It’s my responsibility. I’m sorry for any trouble it caused Andie. She’s a good kid.” His gaze sharpened as it met mine. “I’ve always liked her. I’m glad you do too.”
I scowled, not interested in my father’s approval. Not now, when I’d gone so long without it.
He leaned back in his chair, regarding me. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he looked regretful. Maybe even a little sad. “You know, son, you didn’t have to come in here leveling threats and making a scene to get my support. All you had to do was ask.”
29
Andie
“I guess maybe it was a pap
erwork mix-up or something? The lawyer actually apologized to me. Can you believe that?” I was still in a state of shock as I filled Mia in on the surprising phone call I’d received today, releasing me from the nightmare that had consumed the last twenty-four hours of my life.
Yesterday, just two days after my blowup with Wyatt, I’d come home to a notice that a lien had been placed on my house. My emotional state had already taken a beating, so getting that news on top of everything else had sent me into a tailspin.
I’d spent most of today on the phone, trying to get someone to explain what had happened. I couldn’t go to Wyatt because I wasn’t currently speaking to him, so I’d tried to get in touch with the HOA, the bank, and the law firm who’d filed the lien, but I’d been stymied by voicemail, automated phone systems that stuck you on hold forever, and promises of callbacks that never happened.
I was just about to start calling attorneys, hoping to find one I could afford to hire, when I’d finally gotten a return call from the law firm. An attorney named Bob Hays told me the lien had been placed in error, that it would be removed posthaste and all record of the debt erased. As well, he assured me I was off the hook with the HOA and I’d be receiving confirmation to that effect in writing. Then he’d offered me his personal apology for the inconvenience.
“So it’s all taken care of?” Mia asked, topping off my wineglass. I’d called her after I’d gotten off the phone with my new best friend Bob, and she’d come over after her last class to celebrate the good news.
“Apparently.” I wouldn’t truly be able to relax until I’d seen it in writing, but I wasn’t in a state of pants-shitting panic anymore.
“What a relief.”
“I know.” I blew out a long breath and sank back against the couch. “I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do.”
“I’m glad you called me yesterday. You shouldn’t have to deal with something like that alone.”
I’d called Mia because I wasn’t talking to Wyatt or my brother. They’d claimed the top two spots on my shit list after Saturday night—until I’d gotten the notice about the lien. But since that situation had apparently resolved itself, they were right back up there at the top of the list.
My brother probably wouldn’t be in the doghouse for long. I expected we’d patch things up soon enough—once I’d cooled off enough that I could look at his face without wanting to punch it.
Wyatt was another matter. I didn’t know if I’d be able to forgive him—or trust him. Part of me wanted to, but another part of me was afraid that’d be inviting him to hurt me again.
It was too painful to think about him. Especially because, layered over the pain and disappointment, I felt a constant ache of longing. He’d hurt me, but I still missed him. Then I’d get angry at myself for missing someone who’d hurt me, which only made me more angry at Wyatt. It was a pointless, self-perpetuating cycle of misery, and I was trying to break myself out of it by not thinking about him at all.
I smiled at Mia. “Thanks for holding my hand during my freak-out.”
“Anytime.” She held up her wineglass. “Here’s to not losing your house.”
We clinked them together and I took another sip. “An error. My god.” I shook my head in amazement. “I mean, what even? The whole thing is so weird.”
“Yeah.” Mia hesitated, wincing a little. “I should probably tell you something.”
“What?”
“I went to see Wyatt this morning, and I told him about the lien.”
I stared at her. “I told you I didn’t want to ask him for help.”
“You didn’t ask him for help. I did.” She didn’t look sorry. In fact, she looked proud of herself.
“You think he had something to do with this?”
She shrugged. “He said he’d take care of it. He seemed pretty determined.”
I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. Uncomfortable that I’d needed him to do it. Worried that it made me beholden to him. But also glad to know he cared enough to intervene on my behalf.
Even as I had the thought, I was gripped by a fresh wave of sorrow. He might care about me, but that didn’t mean I could trust him with my heart.
He hadn’t even tried to contact me since the dustup in the parking lot. I’d expected him to call or come by to try and patch things up, but apparently even that was too much to expect. It was nice that he cared about me enough to make a phone call on my behalf, but he didn’t care enough to talk to me himself. It just served as further proof that he’d rather lose me than subject himself to a hard conversation.
“Did I do the wrong thing?” Mia asked. “I just knew he’d want to help if he could. He screwed up, but he cares about you.”
I shook my head as I took another sip of wine. “He told me he loved me, you know.”
“Do you love him?”
“I thought so. I guess I still do, and that’s why it hurts so much.”
I didn’t want to be angry with him. I missed him and I wanted to be with him. But I didn’t know if I could forgive him—or if I should.
“Andie, Wyatt loves you—and you love him. You two have been friends all your lives. That has to be worth something.”
“Love isn’t always enough.”
“You’re right, it isn’t.” She turned to face me, pulling one of her legs up underneath her on the couch. “Even though I loved Josh, I thought we’d never be able to make it work because our lives were headed in such different directions. Loving him didn’t make any of those challenges go away. I had to make a choice to stay. To find a way to make it work despite the challenges. I had to choose love, and I had to fight to hold on to it. We both did.”
“I tried. I was all in with both feet.” My voice cracked and I gulped down more wine. “Wyatt was the one who gave up. He had plenty of chances to fight for us, and he wouldn’t.” I reached up to wipe away a traitorous tear. I’d been crying a lot the last few days. My control over my emotions was shot all to hell.
Mia’s expression softened and she squeezed my arm. “People make mistakes, but they can also learn from them and do better. Your brother and I both made our share. But we gave each other another chance. We took a leap of faith that the rewards would outweigh the risk.”
I huffed out a dark laugh. “I’m not real good at faith.”
“I’m not either,” Mia said. “But I’m pretty sure it’s the kind of thing you get better at with practice.” My doorbell rang, and Mia unfolded herself from the couch. “I’ll get it.”
She came back a moment later with my aunt Birdie, who was carrying a rectangular cake pan. “I made you a breakup cake,” Birdie announced as she walked through the living room on the way to the kitchen. “Shall we dig in?”
Mia and I exchanged smiles as we grabbed our wine and followed Birdie into the kitchen. Her baked goods were always welcome, but her breakup cakes were legendary. It was just a plain old Texas sheet cake—or so she claimed—but it was the best chocolate sheet cake ever made. I was convinced there was a secret ingredient that made it so good, and one day I was going to pry it out of her.
Birdie set the cake down and greeted me with a tight hug. “I’m sorry about Wyatt, honey. But I’m so glad to hear your house troubles are all over. What a blessing.”
Not so much a blessing as Wyatt’s doing. My heart twisted anew at the reminder.
Mia handed Birdie a glass of wine and passed out forks while I uncovered the cake. I laughed at the words she’d piped onto the icing: Fuck That Guy.
“I felt a little bad using my traditional breakup message this time,” Birdie said with a small frown.
“No, it’s perfect. It’s exactly what I needed.” I grabbed a fork and dug in, sighing around a mouthful of chocolatey deliciousness.
I hadn’t been able to drown my sorrows in ice cream, because ice cream reminded me too much of Wyatt. But cake was even better. There was something decadent and deeply comforting about jamming your fork right into a cake this big and shoveling it into y
our mouth. That was why Birdie’s breakup cakes were sheet cakes. Because they were meant to be eaten straight from the pan.
“Oh my godddddd,” Mia moaned. “My mouth just died and went to heaven.”
Birdie’s eyes twinkled. “And that’s why my friend Laura-Beth calls it ‘orgasm cake.’”
Mia’s cheeks reddened as she laughed along with us. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
I speared another forkful of cake. “Chocolate contains phenylethylamine, the same chemical that stimulates the brain’s pleasure centers during orgasm.”
“That’s another reason it makes a good breakup cake.” Birdie took a sip of her wine as she turned to me. “That reminds me. While I’m here, can I look at those old letters of my mother’s you found?”
“Of course!” With everything else, I’d forgotten all about the letters. I set my fork down and pulled open the kitchen drawer where I’d stashed them, meaning to take them to Birdie’s the next time I went over there. “Here.” I handed them to her.
She slipped one of the letters out of its envelope and scanned it while Mia and I continued to devour the cake. “Oh my.” She patted her chest and let out a little laugh.
“Is that one of the smutty ones?” I asked, glancing over at the page in Birdie’s hand.
“Well, yes,” she answered, “but that’s not what I was chuckling about. I know who your grandmother’s secret suitor was.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It was your grandfather. He’s the one who wrote these letters.”
“What?” I stared at her. “But the initials in the signature don’t match his name.”
Birdie shrugged. “That’s Daddy’s handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere.” She flipped the letter over and squinted at the signature. “I don’t know why he didn’t sign his own name. Maybe it was some kind of game or secret code—” She broke into a sudden grin. “I know what it means. Honey Bunny! That’s what she used to call him.”
