“Honey, we would never think you’re a failure.”
Merit gave his mom a quick, grateful smile, but his dad’s pensive expression drew his graze back.
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” His dad looked down as he swirled the liquid left in his glass. “I thought pointing out your brothers’ and sisters’ accomplishments would motivate you. I see now I shouldn’t have done that.”
He gave a single, tilted nod in acknowledgement of the apology. He wasn’t about to tell him it was okay, but it hit him then, after all this time, he wasn’t mad at him so much as at himself. Sure, his dad could’ve chosen a more effective tactic of motivation, but he’d coasted too long because of his fear of failure. Instead of rising to the challenge, he hadn’t tried at all.
“The only way you fail here, Merit, is if you refuse to even try.”
Another echo of Mae’s voice. And of course she was right. His resentment faded a notch. Forgiveness would take a little longer, but he was beginning to see past his anger.
He glanced back over his shoulder to see if Honor had coaxed her from the back, only to find his siblings stalking him again, Shelby included, and their significant others. Recalling his dad’s look moments earlier, his stomach dropped as he faced them, wondering how much they’d overheard.
Bells opened the conversation. “I remember your stuff in high school, but I had no clue you kept at it. This is really cool.”
Great. They heard it all.
He shrugged, a little embarrassed now for having kept it a secret for so long.
“This is some great work here, Merit,” Celia added. “Robert and I are going to pick one for the house, and I’m getting one for the office, too.”
“You don’t have to buy them,” he told her. “Just let me know which ones and I’ll have the gallery owner set them aside.”
“Did Dad give you your trust fund back?” Loyal asked.
“No.”
“Then you can’t afford to give your shit away.”
“Loyal!” Roxanna backhanded him on the arm. “Don’t call his paintings shit.”
“Yeah, Loyal,” Asher chimed in with a smartass grin. “You’ll trigger his LBS.”
“What the fuck is LBS?”
Their mother shot Loyal a glare even as Asher answered, “Little Brother Syndrome. Now he’s really going to think he doesn’t measure up.”
“Oh, geez. I didn’t mean the artwork is shit. I meant he can’t just give it away when he needs the money.” Loyal met his gaze. “You know what I meant, right?”
He rolled his eyes at both his dipshit brothers. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Good.” The oldest dipshit brother suddenly smirked. “As for measuring up, you’re the shortest of us guys, so that ain’t ever gonna happen.”
Celia grinned. “And don’t forget, Bells and I both scored higher on our ACTs than you.”
“We all did,” Asher added.
“You all can just shut-up,” Merit groused, though he appreciated their unrelenting teasing more than he’d ever thought possible. Good to know his family was his family, no matter what.
“I, for one, can’t paint a stick figure,” Shelby said. She bowed with an exaggerated flourish. “I cede mastery of the brush to your hand.”
The others each raised their glasses with a chorus of, “Here, here.”
Merit shook his head even as he pulled Bells close in a one-armed hug and kissed the top of her head. “You all suck. But I love you.”
“Let’s go pick our purchases before the good ones are gone,” Robert urged Celia while tossing him a grin.
“Good idea,” his sister agreed, hooking her arm through her husband’s as he led her away.