Chương 6
“It wasn’t meant to.”
“I should have found you sooner.”
“No.”
“I had the letter.”
“You were given it three weeks before she died.”
“And then I spent months getting nowhere.”
“You were planning a wedding, working sixty-hour weeks, and apparently learning no dance skills whatsoever.”
He looked down at our feet.
“That last part was deliberate.”
“Of course.”
His smile lasted only a moment.
Then he said, “I lied to you.”
I stopped moving.
A couple behind us nearly collided with my shoulder.
Julian steered us awkwardly to one side.
“What did you lie about?”
“When I said someone stopped my messages.”
“That wasn’t true?”
“It was.”
He swallowed.
“It just wasn’t all of it.”
I waited.
He glanced toward the head table again.
“Dad helped.”
“Damian?”
“He found your current office.”
The music continued around us.
“Why?”
“Because I asked him.”
“That is not what I meant.”
“I know.”
Julian’s mouth tightened.
“He didn’t want Grandpa to know.”
Something in my chest shifted.
“Your father helped you contact me?”
“He tried.”
“When?”
“About six weeks after Grandma died.”
I stared at him.
“He had my contact information?”
“Not exactly.”
Julian lowered his voice.
“He called someone he knew in Washington who knew someone in the Navy Department.”
“That sounds appropriately Voss.”
“I know.”
“Did he get through?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He backed out.”
The answer was so Damian that I almost laughed.
“Of course he did.”
Julian looked embarrassed on his behalf.
“He got the number for a public affairs office.”
“And?”
“He sat with it for two days.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Then Grandpa found out.”
The music ended.
Applause rose around us.
Julian did not release my hand.
Neither did I.
“What happened?”
“Dad told him he was trying to reach you.”
My brother had done that.
Not enough.
Too late.
Still, he had done it.
“And Conrad?”
“He lost it.”
“How?”
Julian looked uncomfortable.
“That was the first time I’ve ever heard Grandpa call Dad a coward.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That seems inefficient.”
“He said Dad was trying to destroy Mom’s memory.”
My amusement disappeared.
“How?”
“By bringing you back after she was gone.”
There it was.
Conrad’s talent had never been cruelty alone.
It was framing.
He could take any act of defiance and rename it betrayal.
Any attempt at independence became selfishness.
Any challenge became an attack on the family.
And because he spoke with absolute certainty, people around him learned to doubt themselves before they doubted him.
“What did Damian do?”
“He hung up.”
“On the Navy office?”
“On Grandpa.”
That surprised me.
Julian noticed.
“He didn’t call you after that.”
“There’s the Damian I remember.”
“Aunt Elise.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His voice sharpened.
“He’s been afraid of Grandpa his whole life.”
“So was I.”
“You left.”
The words came out harder than he intended.
His face changed immediately.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
“I meant you got out.”
I released his hand.
“So could he.”
“He had Mom.”
“So did I.”
“And me.”
That stopped me.
Julian looked toward the head table, where Damian stood alone now.
Marlene had disappeared.
Conrad was speaking to two guests near the bar, his posture composed again.
Damian stared at nothing.
“When I was a kid,” Julian said, “Dad used to take me driving when Grandpa came over.”
“Driving where?”
“Nowhere.”
He gave a small shrug.
“Gas station, grocery store, once around the interstate for an hour.”
“Why?”
“He said I needed air.”
“And what did you think?”
“That he hated sitting still.”
I looked at Damian.
“He was getting you out of the house.”
“Yeah.”
Julian rubbed his thumb along the edge of his wedding ring.
“I figured that out later.”
A photographer approached us, hesitated, then retreated when Julian gave him a look.
“You don’t have to forgive him,” Julian said.
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Good.”
“I just don’t want you to think he’s exactly like Grandpa.”
“No one is exactly like Conrad.”
“Thank God.”
This time I did smile.
Claire came toward us carrying two slices of cake on one plate.
“You both look like you’re discussing a hostile takeover.”
“Family tradition,” Julian said.
She handed him a fork.
“This is your wedding cake.”
“I know.”
“You haven’t eaten any.”
“I was busy.”
“You were emotionally excavating your family.”
“That too.”
She looked at me.
“Vanilla bourbon.”
“I was told there would be chocolate.”
“There’s chocolate filling.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Claire stared at me for a beat.
Then she laughed.
“I knew I liked you.”
Julian stole a bite from the edge of the slice.
Claire slapped his wrist.
“That piece was for her.”
“There are six tiers.”
“That is not the point.”
Their argument continued as I watched them.
Ordinary.
Annoying.
Affectionate.
Nobody was calculating what the marriage would do to a portfolio.
Nobody was speaking about duty.
Julian kissed frosting from Claire’s thumb and she told him that was disgusting while smiling.
I looked away.
Across the room, Damian was watching them too.
Then he looked at me.
He made no move to approach.
That restraint was new.
Marlene returned from the hallway with her clutch tucked beneath her arm.
Her eyes were red.
She walked straight past Damian.
He said something to her.
She kept going.
A minute later, she stopped beside me.
“Can we talk?”
Claire glanced between us.
I touched her arm.
“Go rescue your cake.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
She and Julian moved away.
Marlene waited until they were several yards gone.
“I’m sorry.”
I kept my eyes on the dance floor.
“For which part?”
“That’s fair.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
She folded and unfolded the clasp of her purse.
“You don’t owe me fairness.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
I looked at her.
She had always been pretty in a polished, country-club way that made me feel underdressed even when I wasn’t.
May you like
Tonight she looked like someone who had spent years learning the cost of keeping peace.
“What did you want to tell me?”
