He stops again and this time rubs his fingers over his eyes. Everything from his posture to the hang of his head shouts that he’s in misery. I do the only thing I can and I go to him.
I approach him slowly, like he did with Rags over the weekend. He doesn’t move away when I lay a hand on his arm. I mean only to comfort.
“Tell me the rest.”
“When they were discovered, his partner wanted out, of course, and the only way my father could repay the financial investment was to sign over the horses. It left our family with nothing. We had no money, he had no job. All he and my mother had between them was hurt. And regret.”
“So that’s why he killed himself?”
“Well, guilt, yes. But also, he was able to spend his last chunk of money on an insurance policy with pretty much no restrictions. Upon his death, Mom would get enough money to take care of us for a long time. And it did. Until it ran out recently and they started investigating the indemnity clauses of the policy.”
“How did…how did he die?”
“Wet roads, no guard rail and a very deep quarry.”
“But that could’ve been an accident. Are you sure he…”
“He left my mother a letter. He planned the whole thing, knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Ohmigod, Trick. I’m so sorry.”
I just want to take him in my arms, but when he looks up at me, I see that there’s more. And by the look on his face, the worst is yet to come.
“But that’s not all?”
He shakes his head.
“Cami, his business partner was Jack Hines.” He pauses, watching me closely, as if I’m supposed to have some reaction to that. When I say nothing, his eyebrows shoot up.
“Okay. What am I missing?” I ask.
“The person my dad was sleeping with was your mom.”
Yes, that would make sense with the way he explained things, but there’s no way that’s accurate.
“There has to be some kind of mistake. I mean, my parents have been happily married for, like, forever.”
“As far as you know.”
“No, they have been. You don’t think I’d have known if something like that happened? Stuff like that tears families apart. I’d have known. Trust me.”
“Is there any chance you could be wrong?”
He’s not accusing anybody of anything. He’s not shouting and telling me I’m wrong or calling anyone names. He’s just asking a question, a question that feels like it might have claws long enough to rip my heart out.
“Trick, what’s this all about? Are you trying to push me away, because there are easier ways of going about it than this.”
“Of course not! God, Cami, do you really think I could make something like this up?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know you all that well. I mean, it’s been, what? A few weeks?”
“Yes, you do. You know me well enough to know I could never do something like that.”
“No, I don’t know that. Twenty-four hours ago, I would have thought I knew you better than to think you could come to my house and tell me things like this. But guess what. I was wrong.”
Trick reaches for me. “Cami, you have to believe me. I—“
I step back. Away from him. Away from what he’s insinuating. Away from the pain of what he’s telling me.
“No! I don’t have to believe anything. And I don’t want to hear any more!”
In sadness, he watches me. I watch him back. The longer I think about it, the angrier I get.
I curl my fingers into tight fists. I want to lash out, to call him a liar, to tell him I never want to see him again. The fact that none of it is true only makes it hurt that much more. It burns like acid in my stomach.
“Stop looking at me like that. You’re wrong. You’re wrong and your dad was a liar. It looks like you are, too. Do you honestly think my father wouldn’t have recognized you? Wouldn’t have known you, if any of this were true? Do you think he would’ve hired you if any of this were true?”
A tiny voice speaks in the back of my mind. It’s the voice of reason, the voice of the devil’s advocate. A voice I don’t want to hear.
Maybe this is why he wants you to stay away from Trick.
“Cami, it’s why he hired me. He did it as a favor to my mother. He knew she needed help and he wanted to give it. They were both innocent in all this.”
“Innocent? You mean if you overlook the fact that your mother couldn’t keep her man at home?”
I know I finally landed a blow to his unshakable cool when I see his lips tighten.
“That’s not fair and you know it. Be careful, Cami. Be very careful.”
“Why? Does the truth hurt?”
Trick makes a noise, a split between frustration and exasperation. I don’t care that I’m being mean and unreasonable. I can’t believe what he’s telling me. I won’t.
“If you’re so sure none of this is true, why don’t you just ask your dad if he knew Brad Henley. See what he says. If, after that, you want to talk, give me a call.”
“You know you could get fired for something like this, right? Telling lies and spreading rumors about your employer.”
“You can’t fire someone who has already quit.”
With one final look that pierces some soft spot deep inside my soul, Trick turns and walks away. For the first time, I notice that his car is parked at the front of the stable rather than out back. Sooty is standing in the round pen that faces the house, watching us. He nods once and turns back the other way.
A toxic brew of emotions is churning in my chest as I watch Trick walk down the path, say something to Sooty then climb into his car and drive away. Of everything that I feel—anger, bitterness, disappointment, confusion, betrayal—the most painful part is seeing Trick leave. Not knowing whether or not I’ll ever see him again. Not knowing if I want to.
But I do. I know I do. Behind all my anger and resentment, I love him. Still. Always.
Almost an hour later, I’m still standing in the exact same spot when my father comes out to go to the stable.
“What are you doing out here?” he asks.
I don’t say anything at first. I just look up at the tall, handsome man that has dominated my world for so long, even if it’s from behind the scenes.
Do I really know him at all? Beyond that which he wants me to know?
“Daddy, can I ask you a question?”
He doesn’t look the least bit hesitant. Curious maybe, but not hesitant. Or guilty.
“Of course. What is it?”
“Do you know Brad Henley?”
There’s a pause, during which my heart stops as I wait. I don’t know whether to hope he does or hope he doesn’t. Before I can work it out, though, it becomes a moot point.
I see it. The telltale twitch of Daddy’s left eye. Although it’s the only outward sign, and only people who know him well realize what it means, I recognize his fury before he even opens his mouth.
I bury my face in my hands. “Ohmigod, it’s true.”
“Cami, let’s go inside. This isn’t the place for questions like that.”
Daddy holds the back door open for me and I walk numbly through the house to his office. It has all the solitude he might need to destroy my world.
During the short trip, I’m nauseous with knowledge that I never wanted, never needed and now can’t escape. And on top of it all, I’d said awful things to Trick and now he’s gone. The glow I woke up to is now nothing more than a dark, stormy cloud that’s threatening to never let me see sunshine again.
Daddy walks around to sit in the chair behind his desk, the ever in-control Jack Hines. I plop down in the chair across from him.
“Tell me what you’ve heard.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“No, I want to hear what you’ve heard. I’ll tell you whether or not it’s true.”
“How about you just tell me the truth, the whole story? That way you don’t have to worry about what anybody else said or knows.”
“Cami, don’t be—”
“Dad!” I snap. It gets his attention. Not only do I rarely ever take a tone with him, I never call him “Dad.” “Just tell me. The truth. All of it.”
He leans back in his chair and tents his fingers against his mouth, watching me over top of them. I know he’s debating on how much to tell me, what to leave out, wondering how much I know.
“If you don’t tell me everything, I’ll just have to believe whatever else I find out. If you won’t tell me, someone else will.”
After a long pause, he speaks.
“Yes, I knew Brad Henley. We were business partners a long time ago.”
Well, at least it’s a start.
“What happened?”
He sighs angrily. “Cami—”
“Tell me. I deserve to hear the truth from you, my father. Not from someone else.”
“Cami, it was a long time ago. Neither your mother nor I wanted to burden you with something like that. And, as you can imagine, it took us a while to work through it. It’s not a time I like reliving.”
A stab of guilt. Maybe that’s why my father has changed so much since I was little. He’s had a lot of disappointment to live with.
“I don’t doubt that it’s painful, Daddy, but it’s something I would’ve liked to hear from you. I’m a part of this family, too, ya know.”
He hangs his head and I feel even worse. But I have to know.
“I know. And I’ll tell you about Brad. And about the horses, but the rest you need to hear from your mother. It’s not my story to tell.”
I listen quietly as my father validates everything Trick told me, everything I’d accused him of lying about, and obliterates the perfect childhood I’d always thought I’d had.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX - Trick
I can’t drive far enough or fast enough to escape the hurt and the anger and the disgust I saw in Cami’s eyes. Since I’ve known her, I’ve watched them go from curious to interested to passionate to what I believe was loving. But there was no sign of that this morning. And it’s that marked absence that’s killing me now.
I question myself over and over again. Did I really need to tell her? Would she ever have found out if I hadn’t? Was it worth hurting her and losing her to tell her the truth? Could she have gone her whole life and been fine not knowing?
I feel like I could’ve. Gone the rest of my life without knowing, that is, which makes me suspect she could’ve, too. And that makes it even harder to swallow. How could I be so stupid?
But then, as they have a thousand times, Mom’s words go through my mind. Looking at Cami is painful for her. It brings back too many bad memories. Cami looks almost exactly like her mother, only younger. More like what Cherlynn must’ve looked like when she tore my mother’s world apart.
I push back the bitterness. It has no place in my present. It won’t change anything. It will only taint what happiness there could be in my future. And it’s not worth it. It’s not worth what I feel like it’s already cost me—Cami.
I force my thoughts back to the things I can control, the things I must control—my family and my responsibility to them. I feel it now more than ever. I’ll be damned if I’ll be the second man to betray them in life. There’s no way in hell.
And, just like that, the decision is made. I know exactly what I have to do. Turning left at the next stop sign, I head North. Toward Rusty’s.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - Cami
I feel like a zombie after talking to my father. I’m almost halfway to the club before I realize that I can’t approach my mother about something so sensitive there. I pull over and park in an empty space in a McDonald’s lot and I dial her number on my cell phone. When she answers, I cut to the chase.
“Mom, I need to talk to you. And it can’t wait. It’s about Brad. Can I come pick you up?”
There is a long pause on the other end of the line. She’s so quiet, I wonder if the connection got dropped. I pull the phone away from my ear to see if the seconds are still ticking by. And they are. She’s just silent.
Finally she answers. “Of course. I’ll be waiting out front. How long will you be?”
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
Thirteen minutes later, I’m slowing to a stop in front of my mother, who’s waiting patiently and demurely beneath the grand front entrance of the country club. I unlock the door and she gets in. She looks at me and smiles a small, sad smile. My lips are frozen. I’ve got no return smile for her. In a way, I feel like I don’t even know her.
Looking away, I shift into gear and focus on the road.
“Where are we going?”
“I thought we could grab some coffee and talk.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. “Do you want to ask me anything now?”
She’s impatient. She’s feeling the uncomfortable prickle of the situation and, being the non-confrontational type person she is, she wants to get it over with and move on. She hates drama.
But today, she’s going to get it anyway.
“No. I’ll wait.”
Let her squirm.
I don’t rush. Perversely, I want to make her suffer a little. It seems like she’s gotten off the hook with barely a scratch, meanwhile practically everyone around her has suffered. Or is suffering. Or will suffer.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get, so much so that torturing her with a wait doesn’t seem as important as the answers.
“How? How could you do that to Daddy? To us? Did we mean so little to you?”