Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Andie pulled Leo into the living room, where Glen had an arm around a very unamused Dean. “Ha ha, it’s a good day, isn’t it?” Glen said.
Dean shot a look to Leo that even Andie could interpret as “Help.”
“And there’s my other boy!” Glen raised a hand in Leo’s direction, but his son did not move. If anything, Andie felt he shifted behind her ever so slightly.
The older man with his coat still on, but not zipped, did not resemble the grouchy grump who left earlier.
“Did you stop by the new cannabis place down the street from the store?” Dean asked.
“There’s a cannabis store down the street?” Leo asked.
Dean snapped his fingers. “Keep up, apparently Dad knows. Me and you need a night out.” Dean slapped a hand on Glen’s shoulder. “What did you get? Gummies? Brownies? A drink? And good to know you need that for our family gatherings. I’m copying.”
Glen pushed Dean away. “I know where the store is, but I have not been. Can’t I enjoy spending time with my loved ones?”
Andie wanted to step out of the room where one could suddenly hear a pin drop. The only motion were faces looking at each other, carrying on silent conversations.
Gayle broke the silence and approached her husband. “Dear, are you sure you’re okay?”
Glen leaned forward and kissed Gayle’s cheek. “Splendid. This year is ending on a high note.”
“Ha, high, see, he admits it!” Dean said.
“Get your head out of the gutter.” Glen shook his head, but even that didn’t hold the punch to any of his words or actions of earlier. Andie didn’t know if Glen typically had mood swings or if something else had happened. The crowd around her suggested it wasn’t expected behavior.
“Fine. Ghosts then, you were visited by three ghosts of Chanukah—past, present, and future.”
“Uncle Dean, that’s Christmas!” Millie crossed her arms.
He looked down at her. “A scrooge is a scrooge regardless of the holiday.”
“Enough, I have a story to share.” Glen grinned a bit too wide. The closest Andie could relate it to had to be a Cheshire cat. Or Scrooge at the end of the story.
“No, candles first! It’s sunset!” Millie pulled on Glen’s arm. “Come on, Grandpa. We waited for you!”
Glen smiled and laughed. “Of course, let us light.” He scooped up a squealing Millie and carried her to the dining room.
Dean joined Andie and Leo. “He has to be smoking something.”
Leo shook his head. “I have no idea. I wouldn’t think Dad ever would, but his behavior makes no sense.”
Millie popped up in the center of their little circle. “It’s a Chanukah miracle, you made another wish, didn’t you Uncle Leo? I know you did.” Millie flung her arms around Leo. “This is the best one. After Andie, of course.” Millie pulled back, a pink-cheeked sheepish expression on her face. “Oops.”
Leo gazed over the top of Millie’s head at Andie. “I didn’t make a wish. I don’t know what’s gotten in your grandpa.”
“Oh. Right. No wishes.” Millie winked at Leo before skipping off.
Dean threw his head back, laughing. “Good thing you updated Andie on her theories, or this could become awkward,” Dean sang the last word.
“Uncle Dean! We need colors!”
Dean saluted and followed after Millie. “The color master coordinator has arrived.”
The conversations flowed into the dining room, leaving Andie and Leo on the outskirts.
“Hey, you okay?” Leo said softly.
Andie nodded. This affected her the least out of all of them, and yet he studied her intently with his brown eyes, as though he needed her answer to breathe. The other voices faded to the background, leaving them in their own bubble. “I’m okay.”
“Sorry about Millie, and my father.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” She wanted to kiss him again, hold him and touch him, but even in a bubble, she remembered the others around them. This was family through and through. The big family she’d always wanted.
A match striking pulled them to the crowd and they joined in on the prayers, voices rising in harmony, until eight candles glowed in the room.
Millie bounced. “Gifts!”
Glen held up his hands. “Not so fast. First I have a story to share, about how my sons pulled a fast one on me and saved the business.”
Leo shared a look with Dean. His brother mimed smoking weed in their father’s direction. Whatever Glen talked about, neither of them were in the loop. Which made any notion of a “fast one” make less and less sense.
Leo wracked his brain, trying to come up with something, anything that would have erased over a decade of bitterness. Nothing came to mind. Even the last few finds that Leo and Dean had obtained didn’t equate to a bank-altering potential.
And yet, their father looked younger than ever. Face light and bright, and it dug deep that Leo hadn’t seen him like that in far too long, apart from when he looked at Millie. Glen smiled at Leo, looking him directly in the eyes. The last time that had happened there were no smiles or crinkling eyes involved.
It stung; a sharp twinge harsh enough to break a back. Glen hadn’t looked his middle child in the eyes since the incident. Not even his illness had changed it.
There were more wrinkles on his face now, the regular wear and tear of age and time, compounded by stress. A longing welled up in Leo, for the man he used to know, for the years they missed. Because while he had been a foolish teenager, Glen held grudges like no other.
Something had changed, and the only possible explanation Leo could scrounge up related to the Scrooge scenario. Maybe Glen had a near-death experience on the road and one of their dead relatives came to visit. Grandpa would certainly chide his son on letting go of the business he’d started.
“Saved the business?” Gayle approached Glen, as many questions in her eyes as the rest of them. “Your boys were there, ready to take over. What needed saving?”
Leo loved his mother; she always had their backs.
“History made me cautious.”
Dean turned a choke into a cough. Glen didn’t even flinch or glare.
“But I challenged my boys to prove to me they had what it takes. And they came through in a way I would have never imagined.”
Leo thought over the transactions from the last month and came up empty on any that deserved this gratitude. “We’ve been here, doing the work, trying our best for years.”
Glen crossed the room, placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I know. I let the past guide me. Let my fears over each of your weak spots overshadow the strengths. I’m done with that.”
Weak spots, that meant Leo’s hearing.
“Definitely cannabis,” Dean whispered. At this point, Leo agreed.
“All this because McFadden needed a get-out-of-jail-free gift?” Leo asked.
Glen spread his hands wide, in larger-than-life story telling mode. “He needed a prize beyond other prizes. We scoured the store, and while we have some fine stuff there, it wasn’t the right one. On a whim, I checked out back, searching for what we might have missed. And there in the back held the diamond we all needed.”
Leo’s blood turned very, very cold. The items were in the back for one reason: they weren’t ready for sale. A fact his father knew and knew well. His head swam, the room narrowing to his father’s glowing face, all other contents spinning. A dark and ugly rage built from the bottom of Leo, fueling so fast and so bright in one second he understood why his father had been pissed at him for so long.
In the next he knew things would never, ever be the same.
There were several items in the back, but only one worthy of this response. “You didn’t,” he said, his voice a harsh and quiet vortex. Some people got loud when angry, his father one of them. Leo got deadly silent.
“Of course I did. The perfect end to the perfect day.” Glen laughed, clueless about the shallow grave he’d dug.
Dean glanced back and forth between them. “The only thing back there valuable enough …” Dean’s voice trailed off, his eyes going anime wide, a swear crossing his lips.
“An amazing find. I’m proud—”
“It needed a final coat of wax, why would you even consider …”
Dean shot Leo a look, grimacing, and the words died on his now dry tongue.
“I waxed it for you. I wanted to help.”
“Oh yes, the wax was still sticky, but that’s okay, it’ll still work wonders.”
Leo couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his father by the arm, dragged him through the living room, into the kitchen, and then had to keep going, had to get away from the rest of them before he exploded like he never had before. He all but pushed his father outside, onto the deck, where the cold air did nothing to quench the inferno inside him.
Dean followed, closing the door behind them.
“Tell me you are not so careless to think an item in the back, with a still drying coat of wax, that you know nothing about is for sale?” Leo said the words carefully, slowly, before he spat them out.
“Oh, the wax was fine, McFadden understood.”
Leo’s nails cut into the skin from the strength of his fists, and he welcomed the sting. “That. Was. Not. For. Sale.”
“Everything is for sale my boy.”
Leo saw red and couldn’t be completely sure the violent blood bath in his head wasn’t real. The lack of screams his only sure ground into reality. “I repeat. That was not for sale. Nothing in that area of the workroom is for sale. A fact you’ve drilled into us time and time again. A family heirloom doesn’t have a price tag.”
Andie’s desk. Glen had sold Andie’s desk. With the pictures and note inside that Andie didn’t even know about. She’d trusted him to make it better, not to sell it.
“Heirloom? Oh, yes, that will make a wonderful heirloom, I like the way you think boy.”
Leo took a step toward their father, unable to hold his out of control emotions in check.
Dean stepped between them. “Dad, you need to snap out of it before Leo snaps your neck. That desk belongs to Andie. It was her mother’s. Her dead mother’s. She didn’t give it to Leo to sell. Leo offered to fix it for her.”
Leo turned, hands tugging at his hair. He felt like he breathed fire. He stomped off the deck, into the yard. He wanted to ask for a chance at a future with Andie, maybe give her a reason to stay local. Especially with the temple job, perhaps there would be a potential.
The moment she found out about this, well, he’d just bought her plane ticket, for sure.
On the deck, he heard voices, but couldn’t register what they said or the emotions behind them. He walked straight to a tree and punched the trunk, the bark scraping his knuckles. Better the tree and his hand than his father’s neck.
He couldn’t fix this. McFadden had bought the item fair and square. And being Christmas Eve, the damage would already be done. The blame belonged to Glen. And even that wouldn’t fix this for Andie.
“Son?” Glen’s voice grew close, Leo stared at the tree and slight spot where loose pieces of bark had splintered. “That was Andie’s desk?” No gloating, no happy sounds came. It didn’t soothe a thing in Leo.
“That’s why it was in the back, not tagged and out on the floor.” He turned, jaw tight as stone. “I promised her nothing would happen to it. I didn’t realize we’d stopped communicating to each other, especially about important items like that. Or did you not see the personal items in the drawer, the items that I found for Andie and she has a right to?”
“Leo, I’m sorry. That find was—”
“You know what? Forget it. I should have known. Business first. Nothing sentimental allowed to get in the way. The minute I damaged one thing I became a nuisance, and then I became the damaged nuisance. And you will never forgive me, never see I was a teenager struggling to grow into my own. I needed to pay for my mistake, for sure, but I also needed kindness and forgiveness. And you refused to give it to me. Especially after that, when I got sick and needed my father to help me navigate a world that no longer sounded the same, but you held on to your disappointment. Only now, you’ll take an important part of me, a growing potential, and destroy it with your greed.”
Leo headed for the house, knowing he had to find a way to break the news to Andie. “You’re a scrooge all right. But no ghosts have visited.” The words sailed over his shoulder. To his father they came easy. To Andie, he didn’t even know where to begin.
Andie stood in the kitchen with the rest of them, far enough away they weren’t readily visible to those out back. Leo had grown scarily quiet, shoulders rigid. The kind, warm man had taken a flight far, far away.
“What on earth happened?” Jodie muttered.
None of them had any ideas, a mystery linking Glen’s happy behavior, with Leo’s grave one.
“All I know is that the tide has done a 180 in the business saga and Glen no longer has the upper hand. Or any hand at all,” David said.
Andie clutched her leather cuff. The uncomfortable drama of earlier, before Glen had left for work, now held the weight of a teddy bear. This, right here, was the kind of earth-shattering conflict that divided families, a sea parted between, an earthquake, a destruction of a bond.
She wanted the good she’d missed out on, the peace her tiny world with her father had given her. The tension from the men outside should have her walking the other way, finding her own way home.
She stayed. Feet rooted in the spot. A yearning bloomed to go after Leo, to comfort him and fix things. Typically, the only scenarios she yearned to fix were the conflicts between her students, or even with their guardians. Perhaps the rest of the family soothed the level of theatrics unfolding. Andie feared the answer of why she wanted to stay would be simpler and scarier than that.
Leo made her stay. Him. The package he came with didn’t matter, though she certainly reveled in the happy moments before Glen had returned. Leo was a puzzle piece, one that fit into the lock with hers.
Funny how quickly things could change. A week ago, she’d begun dreaming of a new life in Ohio. Now she wanted to stay, wanted to weather the storm with a man she’d grown too fond of.
Leo turned to the house and everyone scattered. Everyone but Andie. She stayed in her spot, watching him flex and clench his hand, red spots becoming visible as he entered the kitchen.
“What happened?” She asked, crossing to him, taking his scraped hand in her own. Red bubbles of blood had started to form and would spill if left unattended.
Leo shook his head, jaw clenched tight, as if it had been screwed shut.
“Come here.” She tugged and he moved with her, allowing her to drag him into the downstairs bathroom.
Andie closed the door and ran the water, pulling Leo’s hand under the spray. He winced but didn’t otherwise retract. “What happened?” Andie asked again.
“Punched a tree,” Leo’s voice came out two octaves lower and softer than usual. “Better than my father.”
Andie soaped up the scrapes and rinsed them off. She patted the banged-up knuckles dry with a towel. “Where does your mom keep the bandages, I think you’re going to need one.”
She moved to the door but Leo grabbed her arm with his dry hand, halting her action. “No. Andie.” He swallowed, face pale and her heart sped, aching for him. “I need a word with you first.”
He didn’t seem to care about his hand, and those knuckles had to sting. It sent alarm bells ringing. Something was very wrong here.
She faced him, reached out but he pulled back. “Okay.”
Leo scrubbed a hand down his face, paced in the small bathroom. “My father sold an item that he wasn’t supposed to.”
She nodded, heart racing, not knowing why this needed to be said in here.
Leo stood straight, looked her in the eyes. In his face, a cog twisted and Andie knew before he said anything what had happened. “We have a system in the shop, items in the back are being repaired or held for a customer, items in the front are for sale. Your desk was in the back.”
Leo closed his eyes, pain on his face. A numbness took over her, freezing emotion, cracking all the new bonds and dreams that had formed.
“Dad ignored all of our protocols, all common sense. If I had even a small doubt this would happen, I would have never brought the desk there.”
“He sold my desk? My mother’s desk?” Andie didn’t recognize the voice that came from her, she observed the conversation from a place far away.
Leo nodded.
“My one piece from the mother I never knew. From her family that she cherished and wanted me to have. It’s now in the hands of someone cold-hearted enough to drag a person away from their family during the holidays?”
“Andie, I—”
She held up a hand. Stopping him. The numbness faded, the faraway view merged into reality. Pain sliced through her. Deep and rich. How had she ever thought this to be her family, Leo to be her home? No. He wasn’t anything but a distraction she should have avoided. “And you didn’t tell him that my desk was there?”
“It was in the back.”
She shook her head. “That’s not enough. It clearly isn’t enough. If he’s not respecting you and your worth, why would he respect your protocols?”
“His protocols.”
“Really? Would he sell something he had there?”
“For the right price, he’d sell his son.”
“A son that is still alive.” She took in a shuddery breath. “I’m leaving.”
She turned, grasped the knob. A hand on her arm stopped her. She remained trained on the wall, not wanting to face him.
“How was I supposed to know this would happen?”
Her anger bubbled to the surface. She turned and he stepped back in the cramped space. “Because you let life happen to you. You want your father to sell the business to you, so you can get that pat on the back you’ve been missing since you were sixteen. Or maybe you don’t want to venture out on your own. It’s not about the namesake of your father’s business it’s about the safety net of taking over a wheel that works. So you don’t have to make all the decisions and take all the blame, yet again.”
His face blanched. “I’m in talks to branch out with Dean.”
A dark laugh escaped Andie that she didn’t recognize. “Branch out. With your brother. You would never even imagine moving far away from all your supports. You are so used to relying on your family. And you’re only branching out because your father won’t sell.”
“You’re only moving because your job is being cut.”
“Correct. When the local searches were not giving me the options I needed, I expanded to maximize my chances. I took the risk. What risk are you taking?”
“Andie, it’s more complicated than that.”
She shrugged. “It always is. But the bottom line is still there, that nice little box you trapped yourself in.”
“And you made your whole identity the poor little orphan one.”
Shards of glass filled her. Leo’s knuckles might have blood on them, but Andie had tears ripping through her. “Talk to me when you’ve lost a close family member and see if you still think that.” She grasped the handle again, holding it all in, refusing to crack in front of him. “I guess that’s one less item I have to move to Ohio. So, thank you for that.”
She opened the door and stepped out. Voices rose in the house but it came through as muffled background noise. Andie grabbed her coat and her bag and left the house. The cold didn’t register, only the pain.
No mother, no father, and one less item to remember them by. Maybe being alone really was the better place to be. Where families existed, so did conflict.
And pain.