Chapter 18
TOBY
The days following the Christmas lunch debacle are the hardest I’ve had to go through in a long time. My nerves are stretched, my patience running thin, and my anger bubbles just beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to explode.
This brunch with our father isn’t making any of it easier. It was supposed to be a good time since the old man was able to come down to be with us for the first time in over a week.
“We haven’t seen you since the wedding,” Cole says.
“I thought Sheila—”
“I did tell them,” she cuts in, pouring him another cup of tea.
For some reason, she’s joined us in the breakfast room, all dolled up, glowing, and insufferably pleased with herself while I’m still trying to get Willow to take our calls.
No luck just yet, but Asher managed to get some updates out of Jamie to let us know that she’s at least safe and never on her own.
Cole gives Sheila a hard look. “You did tell us. And now, you’re excused.”
“I beg your pardon?” she scoffs, visibly insulted.
Dad looks at Cole, then back at Sheila. “What is going on with you two now? I thought I asked you all to put your skirmishes to rest.”
“Not for lack of trying, Dad,” Cole bluntly replies. “This is supposed to be a brunch between a father and his sons, though. I’m sure Sheila has better things to do with her time.”
“You mean other than doting on my husband? I think not.”
“Enough of this,” Dad snaps, his hand shaking as he tries to lift his cup. Gently, I stop him and give him a smile.
“You don’t need the aggravation,” I tell him. “Deep breath, you old coot.” I look at Sheila. “We would really appreciate it if you could give us a moment with our father.”
Her persistence brings me closer to the edge, along with that steely defiance in her green eyes. “I’m not leaving Bill’s side.”
“What are you afraid of?” Asher asks her.
I think I know what it is. After the fallout with Willow, it must’ve dawned on Sheila that one or all three of us might spill the beans about Cole and her to our father, just to get even.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dad gives her a curious look. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“She thinks we’re terrible people like her,” Asher replies with a cold grin, “which is pretty fucking rich at this point. She’s afraid we’ll retaliate after what she did to Willow.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“What’s wrong, Sheila? Are you afraid?” Cole chimes in, picking up on Asher’s energy.
I’m not sure this is our best course of action, given our father’s heart condition, but the more Sheila tries to manipulate and lie her way out of this corner, the more tempted I am to add my own voice to the pile.
“Bill, honey, nothing’s wrong. Your sons aren’t thinking clearly. They’re letting their emotions get the better of them, as usual. They’ll never accept me; I’ve made peace with that.”
“Sheila knows that’s not what this is about,” Cole says, cool as a cucumber. “It bothers her that other people might do to her what she does to them.”
“Wasn’t it a verse in the Bible? Do unto others, yadda, yadda,” Asher teases.
I witness the color drain from Sheila’s filler-infused cheeks as she squares her bony shoulders at us. “Don’t do this. Your father’s health—”
“I think our old man is stronger than you give him credit for,” Cole replies, cutting her off again. “Case in point, he’s been married to you for quite a few years, and he’s still kicking.”
“Barely,” Dad tries to crack a joke in a bid to defuse the tension, but even he can see it’s not enough. His silvery brow furrows as he looks at each of us with genuine, growing concern. “What’s going on, boys? Sheila, darling? What are you all holding back?”
“Something I should’ve told you a long time ago, Dad,” Cole says.
The whole time, he keeps his eyes on Sheila, feeding on her swelling misery as she squirms in her seat and tries to think of ways to stop this disaster from unfolding. But her fear only serves to fuel us.
“Cole… Enough,” Sheila says.
Cole is on a roll, and I understand his fury, his pain. Asher and I have been dealing with Willow’s absence as best as we could, but Cole has taken it hard. He’s out for blood. And Sheila had to run her mouth, the gloating, shortsighted fool that she is.
“Long before you met Sheila, she and I had a thing,” Cole says.
The entire breakfast room goes silent. The air stills. I hold my breath and carefully watch our father’s expression shift from concern to something heavier, something grey. Not shock, just discontent. It’s strange.
“Bill, don’t listen to him, he’s lying—”
“No, he’s not,” Dad interjects, his tone clipped as he looks at Sheila. “I’ve known for a long time.”
My brothers and I are speechless. Sheila’s jaw makes a run for the floor as she sits back with a gasp.
“Oh, Bill…”
“I figured there had to have been something between you and Cole. He always hated you the most,” Dad says, sighing heavily. “I knew they’d never accept another woman in my life after their mother passed away, but I had the right to at least try and move on. When I met you, I knew it was you.”
This feels like a bomb that fizzled out, instead of going off with a boom. Even Sheila is surprised by his reaction.
“The past is the past,” Dad adds. “I figured Cole would get over it eventually.”
“It’s a shame he didn’t,” Sheila says and chuckles lightly. Of course, she couldn’t miss another opportunity to take a swing at my brother.
“You haven’t made it any easier,” I shoot back. “And telling Willow about it was a dirty play. You know it. We all know it.”
Dad gives Sheila an aggrieved frown. “You did what?”
“We had a heated argument during the Christmas lunch,” she replies with a defensive shrug. “But it’s like you said, honey, the past is in the past. Willow should have the maturity to deal with it like… well, like you did, my love.”
“Dammit, woman, that’s Cole’s past to share with the girl,” Dad snaps.
Cole nods slowly. “I’m sorry, Dad, for what it’s worth. I should’ve told you sooner. I just didn’t know how.”
“I was angry for a while after I put two and two together, I’ll admit.
But life is too short for any of that. I found love again, and I didn’t want to let anyone or anything get in the way of that,” Dad replies, then frowns at Sheila again.
“The boys are right, though. I adore you, honey, but you make it hard to be around you sometimes. And I’ve seen the way you treat Willow. It’s not nice.”
Sheila dismisses the entire argument with the flick of her wrist. “Oh, please, darling. Your sons are better off without that gold digger coming for their fortune. It’s bad enough they insist on sharing a woman. They might as well bring home someone worthy of the Morgan name, at least.”
I slap the table so hard, it startles everyone, including my brothers. Glasses fall. Water spills and seeps into the white linen.
“The only one who’s unworthy of the Morgan name is you,” I growl. “Willow always bothered you because she’s a self-made woman who never had to spread her legs for fortune and comfort.”
“Tobias!” Dad snaps. “Enough!”
I get up and toss the napkin across the table.
“No, Dad, it needs to be said. I get it now. That’s why Sheila hates Willow so much, why she got Terrence to break off the engagement, though I can’t say I’m sad about that because it gave us an opportunity to step in and treat Willow the way she deserves to be treated. ”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Sheila huffs.
“And you’re projecting,” I reply. “Calling a self-made woman a gold digger because you never had the drive or the self-respect to do what she did. Willow doesn’t need our money or our name.
She’s building her own despite your constant attacks, despite your negative press and numerous attempts to destroy her business.
“That’s what pisses you off the most, in fact,” I add, a cold smile stretching over my face as I recognize the simmering rage in those conniving green eyes. “That Willow keeps getting back up after every punch and every kick in the gut. You hate her because you could never be her.”
Dad gasps and sucks in a deep breath. He’s as white as a sheet of paper, his eyes about to roll in his head.
“Bill!” Sheila cries out.
Cole unbuttons Dad’s shirt to help him breathe better, while Asher calls the emergency services.
“Give him some room,” Cole warns Sheila.
She slaps his hand away. “Get off, you bastard! You and your brothers are the reason he’s getting sicker and sicker every day!”
“Dad, can you hear me?” I call out.
But the old man is close to passing out. His fingertips are turning purple, and his breathing is ragged, his chest struggling to rise.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Asher announces.
“Bill, honey, listen to me,” Sheila tries to keep him conscious, looking like she’s about to cry, but I can’t see any real tears.
Her words, however, linger heavily in the back of my mind. They plant seeds of dangerous doubt while the guilt works its way through my stomach. The last thing our father needs is more drama and bickering. My brothers and I agreed we’d attempt to be warm and civil.
But then Sheila decided to join us and refused to leave.
And we let our anger get the better of us. She dragged us down to her level and then beat us with experience.
“Hang in there, Dad,” Cole tells him.
If he makes it through this, I swear it will be the last time we allow Sheila to play us.