“Thanks, Rose!” I meander through the Farm, not going straight to the closet but stopping in the living room first. It’s quiet, unlike most times I’m here.
The walls are sprinkled with pictures of us throughout the years. There are goofy pictures of Lincoln and Sienna at a car wash one summer and of me in my cheerleading outfit from high school. Those are mixed with images of Ford graduating from military school and Barrett taking the oath of office. It’s a wall of memories, one that makes me a little nostalgic.
We’ve spent so many hours, days, years here together celebrating good times and convening for the bad ones. Tears from joy and sadness have been shed, screams for wonderful announcements and terrible declarations have been heard by these walls. No matter what, we’ve done it together. As a family.
My heart twists in my chest, tears dotting my eyes, when I turn to see Graham and Lincoln watching me from the back porch. Turning away, I refuse to let Graham see me weak. But, in typical G fashion, he’s in the door and in front of me before I have a chance to flee.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, any traces of his recent venom gone.
“Nothing,” I sniffle. “I was just thinking about all the things we’ve done in this room. Ford’s wedding, Barrett’s election celebration. Our sixteenth birthday party.”
“I had fun that night!” Lincoln chimes in from the porch. “Taylor Thompson. Wowza.”
Graham and I chuckle . . . until we look at each other. Our grins falter.
“Look, Swink,” he says, clearing his throat. “I want to talk to you for a minute.”
“We’ve been through this.”
“Cam, I’m sorry.”
Squinting, making sure it’s Graham I’m seeing in front of me and not Barrett, I shake my head. “What?”
“Come on,” he chuckles. “Don’t make me say it again. It hurt enough the first time.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Does it matter?”
“Absolutely.”
Shoving his hand in his pockets, he sighs. “I’m sorry for acting like a dick.”
“Because . . .” I lead him on.
“Because someone pointed out today that it’s really stupid to make judgements on people based on someone else’s opinion.”
“That’s true. So what were you doing? Basing it off of Linc’s?”
“Don’t throw me in this!” Lincoln shouts.
“Will you butt out?” Graham shouts back. Shaking his head, he focuses on me once more. “I need to trust that you know what you’re doing. You’ve never given me a reason to doubt your judgement—not really.”
“Oh, give me one bad decision I’ve made.”
He crooks a brow. “Ten grand ring a bell?”
“That hasn’t been proved to be a bad decision. Just like the idea of you proposing to Mallory hasn’t been proven to be a bad one.” I crook a brow back. “Catch my drift?”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re an adult and I need to give you the benefit of the doubt. Just be smart about things, Cam. Please. And if you need anything, whether you’re mad at me or not, call me.”
His features soften and I feel my anger wane. “Thanks, G. But I think I’ll call Dom now. Maybe I’ve outgrown you.”
“I wish Lincoln would,” he groans.
“Not a chance!” our brother shouts from the porch again.
Graham and I laugh before he pulls me into a hug and all is right in my world.
Dominic
“It’s busy in here tonight.” Joe stumbles through the door of The Gold Room and takes his usual seat on the end. He smells a little like urine and a lot like whiskey and I wonder which bar he hit up on the way here. “Do I got room on my tab for somethin’ to eat?”
“I’ll check.” I head to the back, without checking his tab, and grab the hamburger I made for myself before we got busy. “Here you go,” I say, sliding the plate to him.
He doesn’t say thank you, doesn’t acknowledge me in any way, just scoops up the sandwich with both hands and eats nearly half of it before I can look away.
“Where’s Nate?” Billy calls from the other end.
“He’ll be here in a second.”
“Gotcha.”
I lean on the bar and watch the television that hangs overhead. It’s covering the Landry Charity Gala at Picante. The anchor is talking about how charities get so much more attention, and money, when the Landry’s are attached to them.
They have a mini-red carpet set up leading into the hotel lobby. Baseball players, a B-level movie star, and a few musicians have all been interviewed before they disappear through the doors.
I’ve seen this before. It’s not unusual. The Landry’s are well-known for their charity work. But now that I know Camilla and know she’s there . . . it’s weird.
“What are you thinkin’ about, baby?”
I look up to see an older woman, leather skin and bright red lips, leaning towards me. Her tits are resting on the bar, laying it out there that if I want it, I can have it.
“Just wondering what it’s like up there tonight,” I say truthfully, nodding to the cameras.
“Fancy clothes, fancy cars. More money than they know what to do with so they give it away.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” she breathes. “They’re a whole different level than us.”
I’m on the verge of admitting how right she is when my phone buzzes on the shelf below me. I see Cam’s name on the screen.
“Do you need anything or can I take this call?” I ask her. “It’s important.”
“Oh, take it,” she says, waving a hand through the air. “I got nowhere to be.”
Swiping the screen and heading into the back, I feel my heartbeat soar. “Hey,” I say once I can hear.
“Hey.” Her voice is sweet, but missing the warmth I usually hear. “Where are you?”
“I had to fill in for Nate for a little bit.”
“So you’re at the bar?”
“Yeah.” I hear her sadness and want desperately to make it leave. “Hey, your brother’s buddy Travis called today.”
“Troy’s brother?”
“Yeah, that one. He’s coming by tomorrow to look at some stuff for Nate. He’s a cool guy.”
“Travis and Troy are both awesome. I knew you’d like him.”
“So what are you doing?” I ask like I have no idea.
“Well, I’m in the car on my way to Picante,” she sighs. “I wish you were here.”
“It’s on T.V.,” I tell her. “I’ve been waiting to see you.”
“They’re supposed to interview me when I get there. I hate that part of it.”
I laugh, picking up a glass and putting it in the sink. “You’re famous.”
“Hardly,” she groans. “We’re pulling up. I’ll see you after?”
“Let me know when you’re home and I’ll come over,” I promise. “Have fun tonight.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“You, too, Cam.”
She’s gone before I even get it all said. With a frown that I hate wearing, I tuck my phone in the pocket of my jeans and head back to the front.
“Can I get a Jack and Coke?” someone shouts right away.
I make the drink and deliver it to a man next to Billy. When I look up, I see her on the screen.