And here I am, as I do almost every night for the past fourteen years since he left us. I stand in front of the window, hoping to find a star that can guide me. Joel Spearman was an extraordinary father, a wise man, and a kind soul. I can’t understand why he left us so soon.
It’s been too many years without him. Anyone would think that I would be over his death, but I’m not.
He was too young, too full of life and plans.
I rub my chest as if trying to calm the ache of my soul—it’s impossible.
The searing pain of losing my father will never disappear, and on days like today, it becomes unbearable. I needed him then and I need him now.
We barely survived his loss and everything that happened during those dark days.
It all started with the vineyard. One night, my family was woken up by the angry flames burning the vines and the guesthouse. According to the fire marshal, it was arson.
Two days later, Dad died of a heart attack. He was found in the field. According to Mom, he had gone out to assess the damage. It wasn’t until supper time that she sent my brother, Heathcliff, to look for him. Heath is the one who found him lying lifeless next to the burnt vines.
If that wasn’t enough, I found Margie, my fiancée, fucking my cousin Troy during Dad’s funeral.
She taught me a valuable lesson. Women only want me for my money—that’s exactly what she told Troy as he fucked her. Since then, I haven’t dated or taken anyone seriously. My sister Fern says it’s just an excuse to be an asshole like the rest of the men in her family.
Is she right?
That’s debatable.
It shouldn’t matter if I’m dating or not.
But it matters to my mother.
That’s why a year ago, I lied and told her that I had a girlfriend. It’s the best way to keep her happy. Mom lives in this enchanting world where true love exists, and soulmates are paired before they’re even born. According to her, it happened to all the Spearmans and it’s bound to happen to her children too.
Someone should remind her that her soulmate died fourteen years ago. I can’t understand how she still believes in that nonsense. She hopes my current girlfriend is the one.
My brothers and sisters hate that I’ve been lying to her for the past year, but it’s worked like a charm. Unless I count those days when she wants me to bring my mysterious girlfriend to our family dinners—or for family celebrations. Like the Spearman family reunion happening in less than two weeks.
Yep, I’m fucked.
Hey, I never said the plan was bulletproof.
Should I have had a contingency plan when I learned about this event?
Nine months ago, when we learned about the possibility of a Spearman reunion in Hawaii, I laughed with my brothers, Gatsby and Lysander, my triplets. They’ve been my partners in crime since the day we were conceived. Our logic laid on the fact that the Spearman family is huge. Dad was one of seven children. Each one of them had five to eight children. Some of them are parents too. It’s impossible to get that many people into one place.
We were wrong.
Three months later, I received an invitation to the first annual reunion. They had invitations and we had to RSVP.
The event is well organized. I found out that my cousin June, who used to own a PR company, is one of the masterminds behind the entire operation. Her twin Jeannette and her sister-in-law, Emmeline, are helping her. Those women could take over the world on a weekend and fix it if they had more time.
Since then, Mom has been reminding us that we need to RSVP and our presence at the event is mandatory.
With less than two weeks to go, I have to figure out a way to skip this trip. Am I afraid that my mother will drag me against my will? Yes. I think she’s capable of that and much more.
Do I want to go?
Maybe.
It’s Hawaii. My cousin Jackson and his wife Emmeline will be renewing their vows. Jack is the oldest of our generation. His brothers and sisters are my favorite cousins from the Spearman side, but Mom wants me to bring my girlfriend—after all, we’ve been together for more than a year. Plus, I’m in the middle of an acquisition, a merger, and…there’s a lot of work to do. I can’t just pack up and take a vacation.
There’s also the fact that a week after this trip is over, we’ll be celebrating the fifteen-year anniversary of Dad’s departure.
I should borrow a page from Gatsby’s life and disappear for a few weeks. Good luck finding me while you’re celebrating nonsense or remembering that we lost the most important man in our lives.
“Fuck, I need drink.”
As I’m about to head to the kitchen for a glass of scotch, my phone rings. I groan as I realize it’s Lysander’s tone. So much for having a peaceful night without dealing with family. I take one last look at the Golden Gate Bridge and turn toward the kitchen. If I’m going to deal with him, at least I’ll do it with a finger of scotch on the rocks.
I pull out a tumbler, the bottle of alcohol, and answer the phone, setting it up on speaker. “What’s up, asshole?”
“Some of us would like to get some sleep,” he growls.
If I wasn’t pouring my drink, I’d be staring at the phone. Why the fuck is he calling me then? “Good night? Go to sleep? Do you need a nighttime story? Did you try closing your eyes?”
“I can’t sleep because you’re thinking too fucking loud.”
I burst into laughter, almost dropping the glass. “Really? You’re complaining about my loud thoughts?”
“Yep, plus, you make too much fucking noise. I heard you when you left the bed and went to the kitchen. Why are you back there? Do you need another drink? We should soundproof your apartment so I can sleep.”
I look down and give him the finger. Letting him and Gatsby live in my building was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in the past couple of years. They don’t pay rent, they come to my apartment at all hours of the day to take my food, and I don’t have any privacy. “Or, hear me out…you can move out of my building. It’d make more sense to live close to the vineyard.”
He laughs but doesn’t confirm what we know. Lysander doesn’t want to live near Mom. He doesn’t need to live in the guesthouse. Why can’t he just buy a property or rent a place in Paradise Bay?
I guess because he’d be so close to our mother, she’d be barging into his place every five fucking minutes. Mom needs a hobby I think as the amber liquid goes down my throat.
“What’s upsetting you?” he asks.
People think he’s the most relaxed of the triplets, but that’s Gatsby. Though, in all honesty, none of us are chill or calm. The moment Dad died, the burden of the family fell onto us. Suddenly, we became parents to our younger siblings. Life came to be complicated as we tried to parent five teenagers and our mother, who had situational depression—losing Dad hit her pretty hard.
That’s the part of her situation I don’t understand. She suffered so much when she lost Dad. Why would she want that for her children? I wouldn’t want anyone to go through what she went through just because they thought they were in love with me.
“Listen, if you’re just calling to harass me—”
“It’s a courtesy call to check up on you,” he interrupts me.
“I’m fine.”