The Sister (The Boss 6)
“I don’t think there’s a reason to assume this situation is going to naturally lead to extortion,” he said cautiously. “And I think you’re savvy enough to know if someone is taking advantage of you.”
Oh god, I did just assume that, didn’t I? Here I’d been worried that people would think I was a self-important jerk, but I really had changed into some kind of paranoid, money-hoarding Scrooge McDuck who thought—
Neil put his hand over mine on the cushion. “You’re not a terrible person for worrying about that, Sophie, so please stop mentally berating yourself.”
“You don’t know that I’m mentally berating myself,” I snapped, but it was no good. He knew me too well, just like I knew him too well.
“That’s something I’ve had to wonder about with every new person I’ve met in my entire life,” he reminded me. “There’s nothing wrong with protecting your emotions. If you’re too trusting, you feel like a fool when someone disappoints you.”
I couldn’t imagine having that kind of life. Growing up, there was never any chance that someone would like me for my vast wealth. I was often grateful they liked me despite my poverty. Luckily, Calumet was a blue-collar town, and you were more likely to get bullied if your family had money than not. But Olivia was going to grow up on Long Island, probably at some stuffy prep school where all the kids knew exactly what their parents had in their off-shore accounts and lorded it over each other. That wasn’t what I wanted for her. She deserved to be happy, not automatically suspicious that someone’s kid was trying to network their way into a post-college job while they were still in elementary school.
The train of thought reminded me. “You should go get Olivia.”
“Have you changed your mind? Do you want to come with me?” he asked, almost hopeful. I knew he didn’t feel confident driving around out there, but he’d be able to find his way to town and back, and at the moment, I couldn’t show up and pretend I’d been at the reunion having a good time when I’d only stayed fifteen minutes. I didn’t have it in me.
I shook my head. “No, if you don’t mind, I’ll just stay here.”
“Okay.” He kissed my forehead. “Do please keep your ringer turned on. If I’m lost or kidnapped by a gang of moose, I’ll call.”
I waited until the headlights left the driveway before I hurried to my laptop. Though I was technically on a vacation, I couldn’t let myself go anywhere without at least some connection to work. After some fighting with the wireless, I did something I hadn’t let myself do in a long time.
I Googled my father.
I typed in Joseph Tangen Michigan and held my breath.
Growing up without a father, I’d always had this weird thought that, someday, he would realize what he’d lost by not loving me. That, someday, I would get a tearful phone call, wherein he would beg me to be a part of his life. Part of that fantasy was the thought that I might have a relationship with my father, after all, thus confirming I wasn’t as broken and unlovable as his rejection had made me. The flip side of that fantasy was the idea that I could reject him and make him feel the way he’d made me feel for my entire life so far.
The first search result destroyed that.
Joseph Tangen, Jr. Obituary – L’Anse, MI.
I stared open-mouthed at the link. No. It couldn’t possibly be him. I clicked on it, my chest suddenly unable to rise and fall with breath. When the picture loaded, I wanted to not recognize him. It should have been easy. I could remember two times in my entire life that I’d actually seen him in person. Ten years had gone by. He should have aged. He shouldn’t have looked so much like me. But there he was, and I couldn’t deny it.
I devoured the words beside the picture, still not quite grasping what I was looking at.
TANGEN, JOSEPH JR. – Beloved husband and father Joseph Tangen passed away Tuesday, August 19, 2012, after a long illness. In his career as a forest fire officer for the Michigan Department of Natural Resources, Joseph received commendations from the National Association of State Foresters, the International Association of Wildland Fire, as well as the Bronze Smokey Bear Award, for his outstanding contributions to the field. As a member of the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community, Joseph volunteered his services as a firefighter and as a passionate advocate for the preservation of Ojibwe language and culture. He is survived by his parents, William Tangen and Sally LaPointe, his wife, Sasha Tangen, and their daughters, Molly, Susan, and Renee. Services will be held at Holy Cross Lutheran Church in Baraga, Saturday, August 23 at 11:00 AM. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Wildland Firefighter Foundation.