Chapter 7
“Should we tell Dad?” Bran asked Patrick. Pat and River had come to speak with him and Raven this morning. It was eleven. He and Patrick had received the email from their dad an hour ago. Everyone decided to meet and discuss what should or could, be done about the shitstorm on the horizon.
“River and I need to decide if we call Rowan or not as well.”
Bran gripped Raven’s hand tighter. They were sitting in the living room. It was a beautiful day, with sunlight shining on part of Daniel’s playmat. His son was currently grabbing his toes while he watched a mobile swing above his head. Bran smiled. His son always made him smile. Becoming a father had given him some insight into his own parent. Dad cared more about his sons’ happiness than his own. He always had, and that’s why the stubborn sonofabitch left them without a word of warning.
Sighing and rubbing a hand over his face, Patrick answered Bran. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t want him in Oklahoma by himself, and I know he supposedly has all these plans, but none of us believe him. He’s running. He’s never run from anything.”
River snorted. “Yeah, he’s running alright, straight into the arms of the person he was running from.”
“There is some poetic justice in that,” Raven acknowledged.
“I don’t disagree, babe, but we still need to figure out what to do.” Bran was slightly embarrassed about the tears that had pricked his eyes when he’d read the email and Raven’s hug of comfort that followed.
Of course, she understood what it felt like. Raven and River missed Rowan. They hated the separation. His dad had only just left, and he felt the empty space he should have been filling already. Of course, only Dad would give his sons to-do lists on his way out. Damn it. He’d known he and Pat would try to talk him out of leaving. He wasn’t wrong.
River looked at Raven for a moment, almost like they were communicating in some secret, silent sister language. Raven nodded. They’d decided on something.
River smiled at Patrick before sitting up straighter to address the room. “Raven and I think we shouldn’t tell either of them anything. They made this mess, and they can damn well figure out how to fix their mess together.”
“Dad doesn’t do well with surprises, Riv,” Patrick ventured.
Raven laughed then. “Your father doesn’t like a lot of shit, Pat.”
“True,” Patrick chuckled.
“So, we do—nothing?” Bran asked.
“For now,” River confirmed. “Both of them will be calling us by this afternoon to chew our asses, but again, that’s a them problem. Also, Row has been staying in your grandmother’s penthouse for weeks. Rowan asked Tilly not to tell Hugh. She agreed, which means your grandma may not know what’s going on, but she’s no fool. She chose not to tell her son for a reason. We’ll have her support.”
“I think we should check in on them in a few weeks. A surprise visit,” Raven’s eyes twinkled in mischief. “Riv, you’ll only be sixish months along, so flying shouldn’t be a problem. Perhaps we can invade the compound and force a family get together. We can judge whether a few weeks of fighting have sorted them out or not.”
“Or whether more drastic measures are needed,” River added.
“Fine, Rave,” Bran said, “but if this whole plan blows up in our faces, Pat and I will be pointing all our fingers in your direction.”