Reputation (Mason Family 2)

“He’s like the support puppy. Makes sense.”

She gives me a dirty look. “You know what I mean, Coy.”

I think about what she says. I don’t really see it.

“Boone does work,” she says. “He has the biggest contract in the company’s history.”

“Do you know why?”

“I know what your brothers say,” she says, silencing me. “I’m not getting into all of that. I’m only saying he does work. But he also provides an element of fun to all of your lives. He’s the one every one of you call when you’ve had a bad day. Don’t even lie to me.”

This is true. We do call Boone if we need to laugh or forget our problems.

Or need someone to go on a trip with you.

And if you want a weekend in Vegas, Boone is definitely your guy.

“Life can’t be all work,” Mom says. “And you can’t have everyone in your life about business, either. It’s good to have someone around you in your inner circle that doesn’t prioritize the business you’re in.” She flips off the stove. “When I come home from the office, your dad doesn’t care about my shop. Sure, he wants it to succeed, and he cares that it does, but if I would choose to close and never reopen, he would support that. He doesn’t love me because of it.”

I get what she’s saying, and it makes sense. Still, I can’t help but rib her a little.

“Well, Boone does love us because of our businesses. They pay his bills.”

She laughs as she takes the plates out of the cabinet. “I want you to know that I appreciate your perspective on your contract. People get tied up in the details and forget what a blessing things like that are to begin with.”

“I mean, I want what’s fair.”

“Absolutely.”

“But things could be worse, you know?”

Placing some noodles and chicken on a plate, she carries it across the kitchen and slides it across the table to me.

“You could be battling what Bellamy has going on,” she says before turning around and heading back to the stove.

“How is she? Really?”

“Don’t you know? You were with her today.”

She’s not asking a question. She’s digging. She’s trying to see what happened between Bells and me today, and I don’t know how to answer that.

Mostly because nothing did happen. Sadly.

“We were just talking about Bree,” I say. “We didn’t talk about her dad or anything.”

Mom brings two glasses of wine to the table and sits down across from me.

I take one of the drinks and gulp half of it down. She raises a brow but doesn’t comment. Thankfully.

“Joseph is very sick, Coy. He has stage four colon cancer.” Her voice is somber. “Bellamy spends a large part of her life with her father, making sure he’s taken his medicines, running him to doctor’s visits, just … spending all the time she can get with him before he’s gone.”

I’m not sure if it’s the wine or her words that send a shiver up my spine, but something does.

Before he’s gone.

I can’t imagine how Bellamy would be if she loses her dad. Or when, rather. What will happen to her? Will she lose the light in her eyes? Will she be scared?

Fuck, yes, she’ll be scared.

Then what?

I look up at my mom, and she’s nodding as if she can read my mind.

I think about my mom and dad and all of my brothers. Hell, even Larissa and her parents. My family is big and loud and annoying, but at least I have them.

Bellamy has no one.

I gulp.

“I guess I didn’t realize it was that bad,” I say. “People always come back and get better. I guess I thought maybe that would happen.”

Mom frowns. “He’s not going to get better, Coy. He probably doesn’t have much time left. If you want to see him for any reason, you should probably do that while you’re home.”

I drink the rest of the wine in one swallow. The alcohol burns my throat and settles heavily in my stomach.

“Do you see Bells a lot?” I ask her.

She nods. “She comes over once a week or so. I bake them banana bread or an extra meatloaf a couple of times a week, too. But you know how Bellamy is. She doesn’t want to be doted on or made to feel like she can’t handle it.”

But she can’t.

“I wish I would’ve known all of this before now,” I say. “I mean, you told me, but I didn’t realize it. I guess I didn’t want to realize it. It was easier not to know.”

“While Bellamy doesn’t have that luxury.”

“Yeah.” I lean back in my seat. “I got ahold of her a couple of weeks after my Country Music Honors performance—the night you told me, actually. And she texted me back and said that she had a boyfriend and didn’t think I should message her anymore.”