Dee’s mouth drops open. “You were?” She seeks me out next since Walt and Nate are in the middle of an intense male stare-down.
“We lost everything when our parents passed away.” I’m not so much covering for Walt as avoiding having to explain. It’s hard to admit who our father was. Hell, Nate had to call me on it or I might never have told him.
“Speaking of, I had a thought about Dad’s remains.” My brother pushes his plate, and the subject of him working for Nate, aside. I told Walt about visiting Mom’s grave, about how wrong it felt to put Dad in the ground next to her. “You’re right about keeping them apart. In life they barely got along, why doom them to spend eternity together?”
I quirk my lips. It’s a dark subject for dinner.
“How about sprinkling him in the water? He loved the ocean and the lake. Mom never liked either.”
Thinking of her again splits me open. I blink back tears. I was so angry with her when she took her own life. I’ve had moments of grief, but usually it comes with a side of anger. Today is the first moment sadness eclipses the anger.
A burial at sea for Dad is better than he deserves, but he can’t sit on my countertop for the rest of my life.
“There won’t be any record of him, Viv,” my brother says softly. “He’ll be gone. Finally.”
I nod, knowing it’s the right answer.
“Lake Michigan, maybe. Close to home,” Walt says. Dee puts her hand on his shoulder and promises to go with him.
“We can rent a boat,” Nate offers. “While we’re there I can show you the job site. You can look for an apartment nearby.”
“That’s going to require money.” Walt looks at me expectantly. I shake my head.
“That money is earmarked for rehab.”
“I’m out of rehab.”
“For now.” I slide a glance at Dee who’s watching me just as expectantly. I’m being overprotective of him, but for now I’m okay with that. “I need a lime wedge for my water,” I lie, standing from the table. Halfway to the kitchen, I feel someone follow me. To my surprise it’s not Nate.
I grab a lime from a bowl on the counter and make use of the small knife and cutting board next to it. I’m aware of Walt glaring at me, arms folded over his chest.
“I’m done with rehab. That was my last stay. I’m going to attend AA meetings for the rest of my life, but I’m not going to be admitted ever again,” he tells me. “Don’t you trust me?”
I don’t answer, squeezing a lime wedge into my glass. Then I reach for a bowl from a cabinet and pile the remaining fruit into it.
“V.”
“I trust you.” I think I mean it. “But things happen outside of our control. Outside of your control. What if you have a bad day at work and you need a release valve? What if you and Dee have a fight? What if she—”
“What is your problem with her anyway?” He keeps his voice low.
I peek into the dining room. Nate has started a conversation about who knows what, and Dee happily obliges him by listening. He’s good.
“She’s an addict,” I whisper.
“So am I.”
“You’ve been clean longer than her.”
“She’ll get there. And if she doesn’t”—he takes a breath, his eyebrows lowering like it pains him to consider it—“I will still be clean. You’re doing to her what everyone did to you during Dad’s trial.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I mentally remind myself to keep my voice down.
“You haven’t given her a chance or the benefit of the doubt. She hasn’t done anything wrong and yet you’re sure she’s going to. You’re betting on her to fail, and you don’t even know her.”
“And you do?” I let out an incredulous laugh.
“Yeah. I do. You need to trust me.” He sighs, sounding tired. “I’m taking meditation classes to help with the stress.”
He is? “You are?”
“They’re online, but yeah.”
“Oh. I thought you were listening to music.” Or sleeping. Every once in a while I’d notice him with a laptop on his lap, headphones on, eyes closed. I never considered he was meditating. I have been underestimating him. And, possibly, Dee.
“I’m not fifteen any longer, V. You can’t hold my money hostage until I reach a summit you’ve chosen for me.”
Then again, maybe I haven’t been underestimating him.
“It’s not your money.” I argue with that rather than the summit part. I realize a little guiltily I have been setting peak goals for him. Every day they are farther and farther out. “It was Dad’s money. Which means it wasn’t technically his, either.”
“Unlike you, I don’t care about its origin. There’s no sense in suffering needlessly. Dad’s dead. There are no more strips of flesh you can take from him. He’s gone.”
My lips compress. Why does it suddenly feel like everyone is ganging up on me?
“Can you be nice to her?” He picks up the bowl of lime wedges. “For me?”
I nod. Solemnly.
I follow him to the dining room and do my damnedest not to stomp. I would feel better if he were thanking me, but that’s about me too, isn’t it? Resigned, I settle into my chair and force a smile.
“Dee, what is it you do in Atlanta?” I ask.
“I used to write code for websites, but before I went back into rehab I started working on a horse farm and I really liked it.”
Really? I want to ask but don’t.
“That’s why Walt wanted to take you horseback riding,” I say instead.
“Yeah. I love horses.” She smiles.
“When you go back to Atlanta, will you live with your sister again, or are you planning on renting your own place?”
“Um…” She turns to Walt. He cocks his head at me.
I send a silent message to him that hey, I’m being friendly, here before I realize he has an announcement.
“She’s not going back to Atlanta.” He holds Dee’s hand on the table and dares me with his eyes to argue. “We’re getting married.”
I can’t breathe. My baby brother, who can barely care for a plant, is going to marry a girl from Atlanta who has been sober for a little over a month and loves horses? When I am forced to take a breath, lest I lose consciousness, I blow out, “Walt—”
“Congratulations,” Nate interrupts me to say. Under the tablecloth he squeezes my knee. “Sounds like you’ll both need to agree on an apartment.”
“An apartment costs money,” Walt points out again, his eyes never leaving mine.
“If you accept my job offer, you’ll have money,” Nate supplies.
“Your job offer comes with a lot of strings, Owen.” I don’t like this power trip Walt is on. He’s being reckless. I narrow my eyes across the table. Lovestruck Dee isn’t far behind.
“I’m not parting with your salary for any less than a guarantee you won’t shoot it up your arm.” Nate’s voice is low and hard, and I’m momentarily shocked. Guess he’s not as mellow about this as he seems. Walt has always been able to recognize authority. He recognizes it now and sits up straighter. “My offer isn’t charity, Walter. It’s a hand up, not a handout. You want to work for me? You’ll have to work hard. You’ll have to prove yourself. Eventually, you could be running one of my job sites in Dubai if you want, but we have to build trust from the start.”