Instead, I invested in some cheap real estate when the market was down and benefited when it rose. It turns out I have a hell of a knack for turning a profit. I’m here to put that talent to good use.
“Needed a change of scenery,” I say, not much caring to dive into the specifics at this time.
“Huh,” he grunts, still perplexed.
No wonder.
We always said we’d get the hell out of Lake Stuart. Trading in a beachfront condo in sunny Florida and permanently relocating to this small town tundra doesn’t make much sense to him.
“So where are you staying?” he wants to know.
“Down the street.”
“Not in your old house.”
“Yup. Got a good deal on it.”
What a lie. I got a terrible deal. Good thing I can afford to make terrible deals.
Danny decides to drop the subject. He’s grown preoccupied and he gazes sadly at the pink castle tent.
“I can’t get my head wrapped around the idea that she’s gone. Fucking hell. She wanted me to visit for the holidays but I blew that off and said I’d come in the spring. But I probably wouldn’t have come in the spring. I ran out of here the first chance I got while she was stuck. You know how it was. Dad went to prison. Mom took off. She’d just managed to get Gretch through high school when she got pregnant with the twins. I hoped I’d be able to help her by raking in the big bucks but my career tanked. Now it’s too late.”
My heart might be a shriveled husk but today it hurts for them all. I don’t want to say any of the standard lame garbage people feel compelled to repeat at a time like this. I heard too much of that after my mother died. Her death was also sudden and excruciating. I know firsthand what it feels like to be handed crappy declarations that mean nothing.
“I went to the house first, before I came out here.”
He makes a face. “You must have seen Gretchen.”
“She’s the one who told me where to find you. She said you’re in shock.”
“That’s how she put it?”
“I think so. I didn’t take notes.”
He leans forward, picks up the bottle of whiskey. Puts it down. “I guess we’re both in shock. Not only did we lose our big sister but today we found out Jules made a will. She named me and Gretchen as the girls’ guardians.”
“This may be a touchy subject, but what about their father?”
Danny gives me a flat look. “If you know who he is, I’m all ears. I’d like to hunt the fucker down and have a few words with him.”
“I’ll bet.”
He sighs. “She kept that secret to herself. There’s no father listed on their birth certificates. I guess she must have had a good reason for not wanting him around but the girls are going to have questions and there’s no one to answer them.”
“Shit, Dan. I don’t know what to say.”
Danny shakes his head, wheezes out a laugh with no humor. “I can’t imagine what the hell my sister was thinking, leaving those girls in my care.”
“She was probably thinking that they wouldn’t be in your care because she wouldn’t die.”
He looks at me so blankly that I wish I’d said nothing. But then he kind of snorts and I catch a glimpse of the teenage Danny Aaronson in his smirk. This reminds me how much I’ve missed his friendship without even realizing it. We were hardly out of diapers when we met and he remains the only close friend I’ve ever had. Things weren’t the same after I was sent away. We never again lived in the same place and lost the bond we’d once shared. That’s more my fault than his.
He opens the whiskey bottle and gestures to the tea cups. “This is the best I can do in the way of shot glasses.” He pours until two of the plastic cups are half full. “Let’s drink to Jules. She was the best of us, wasn’t she?”
I raise a tiny blue cup. “To Jules.”
He finishes his in one swallow. I do the same even though my taste for whiskey is long gone.
“Why are you really back in Lake Stuart, Trent?” he asks and it seems like he’s just curious, not suspicious.
Danny wouldn’t be bothered if I told him the whole truth but I’m not ready to show my hand yet. Besides, this day is for Jules, not for my grudges.
I set the plastic cup down beside a plastic pitcher. “Just homesick, I guess. My mother loved this damn town.”
At least that’s a kernel of truth. For years my father had managed Cassini Brewery by constantly going back and forth from Manhattan. It wasn’t until he was married to his second wife that he decided to move here.
To my mother, born to a working class family from Queens and rarely leaving her urban surroundings as a child, Lake Stuart was paradise. She wanted me to grow up here and my father built the house for her, the house that was taken from me and is now mine again.
Danny looks like he’s thinking about taking another shot of whiskey. “My dad tried to get permission to come to the funeral. Me and Gretch were both relieved when that didn’t happen. At least there’s one thing we can agree on.”
Danny and Gretchen never had much in common except some DNA and a fucked up backstory. For the life of me I can’t picture the two of them joining forces to take care of a pair of preschoolers.
But I’d rather avoid dwelling on Gretchen right now. I’d hate for my oldest friend to guess that I wouldn’t mind having sex with his sister.
I clear my throat. “Maybe you ought to think about going back inside. Looks like half of Lake Stuart showed up.”
“To hell with ‘em,” Danny scoffs. “Too many are just here to gloat over one more Aaronson family tragedy.”
“And I saw your mother.”
“To hell with her too.” But he does get to his feet. “All right, let’s go. I’m sure I’ve pissed off Gretchen enough today by hiding out.”
Outside, the clouds look to be breaking up a little so maybe there won’t be snow after all. Being here in the Aaronsons’ backyard is like old times and for a second I could swear Danny and I are about to go out hunting for trouble. Maybe we’d go raid the gas station liquor aisle, borrow one of my dad’s classic muscle cars, pile some pretty girls in the backseat and get a caravan to drive up the hill to do wild shit that people would be talking about at school on Monday.
In that world I hadn’t yet been shipped off to a sadistic shithole and Jules Aaronson was still alive.
It’s the world I’d rather be in but there’s no use in sulking because that’s not where we are.
Maybe Danny is having some deep thoughts of his own because when we are a few steps from the back door he stops short.
“Trent.”
“Yeah?”
“As fucked up as the circumstances are, it is damn good to see you again.”
“Good to see you too. I guess you’ll be sticking around?”
His expression becomes uncertain. “I don’t know. Spring training starts next month.”
The life of a minor league ball player hoping to get another crack at the majors isn’t really one that’s set up to be the guardian of two little girls.
It’s not like I can really help with that so I say nothing.
The crowd inside the house has thinned out considerably and I’m glad. I’d rather not have an encounter with some girl who sucked my dick in eleventh grade or a guy I kicked the shit out of in the high school cafeteria. I’m not planning to be especially social while I’m living here and I don’t even know how long that will be.