Chapter Sixteen
Enimton
“Would you like another pancake?” Leslie, Mark’s mother, asked me, even though I’d already been served and devoured a stack of them along with enough maple syrup to give me early-onset diabetes.
“No, thank you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
She smiled. “Not today. On your next visit you can help with the dishes. Today you’re company.
Sit.” Although I knew Mark had been part of Simmons’s experiments and therefore Leslie was not his biological mother, I felt a pang of envy as she laid a loving hand on Gene’s shoulder and told him she’d be right back with more coffee.
Gene remained seated across from me, watching me, but not with suspicion.
It was as if he could sense my desperation and was lending comfort simply by being present.
Stanley nudged my hand, and I patted his head absently.
Nothing about this small home and worn furniture should have been tempting to someone who’d grown up around antiques and priceless artifacts, but I couldn’t help but wonder who I would have been had I been raised here and not by my parents.
Gene’s behavior bolstered my confidence that I’d chosen the correct twin to approach.
Although I’d only met them one time, they’d all left strong impressions.
Three sets of twins, all different personalities, but with some similarities due to the situation in which they were placed.
From the journals, I knew Simmons had deliberately placed one twin with a wealthy family and the other with one who was struggling financially.
Thane, Jesse, and Dylan were the twins with the power and resources to protect Sara, but none of them emanated warmth or approachability.
Not that I could blame Dylan since technically I’d nearly killed him.
Zachary was a wild card. I had a feeling he was quick to anger.
Due to my placement at schools for behaviorally challenged children, I’d brushed up against enough troubled people to recognize the broken ones.
Something had happened to Zachary that hadn’t to the others, and it meant he might act less predictably.
Scott came across as a soft pushover.
And Mark? I recognized the protector in him. It was why I hadn’t been offended when he told me to stay away from his parents and also why I’d chosen him. If I could sway him to care about Sara, he would sway the others.
Her safety was all that mattered to me.
“I know who you are,” Gene said quietly.
“You do?” My mouth went dry.
“I didn’t make the connection at first, but you’re the one who broke in Dylan’s house, aren’t you?”
“Only to return something.”
“I know. Mark tells me everything.”
I nodded slowly, not willing to volunteer anything that might reveal that Mark in fact did not.
Gene drummed his fingers on the table. “You made some really poor choices, son.”
“Yes.”
“You said there’s something you want to talk to Mark about . . .”
“There is.”
“You might say it’s none of my business, but when it comes to my son, I’d have to disagree. What are you here for, Ashen?”
I looked down at the empty plate then raised my eyes to meet his gaze. “To ask for help.”
Before I had a chance to say more, Mark stormed into the room. He quickly assessed the situation, then said, “Dad, could you give us a minute alone?”
Gene sat back in his chair. “No.”
Mark groaned and gave me a pointed look. I rose to my feet, ready to go outside to talk.
“Sit back down,” Gene said firmly.
I hesitated.
Leslie entered the room again and placed a plate of pancakes in front of an empty chair. “You too, Mark. Don’t get your father all worked up.”
Mark shot me another look then sat down.
I retook my seat slowly.
Leslie bent and gave her son a kiss on the cheek. “Give forgiveness a chance.”
Mark’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’m not angry, Mom.”
“Then try smiling at our company instead of glaring at him.” She ruffled his hair. “Would you like chocolate milk or coffee?”
“Mom,” he said in slight reprimand, and humor tugged at my mouth. The formidable man from a moment ago seemed almost embarrassed by her attention. Then his expression softened more. “Chocolate milk, thanks,” he murmured.
She looked over to me. “Ashen? Would you like one as well?”
Not since I was a young boy had I been offered or even considered asking for one. I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t necessary, but she waved and said, “I’ll bring you one.” Before she stepped away, she asked, “Where’s Lanie today?”
Beneath his mother’s attention, Mark looked much younger and slightly guilty. “This seemed like something I should handle without her.”
Leslie rolled her eyes and made a sound of disapproval before walking away.
To his father, Mark said, “He ran Dylan off the road. Tried to run me off as well.”
Gene looked from his son to me and back. “Did you leave Lanie home because you wanted to protect her or because you’re not sure you’ll be the best version of yourself today?”
“Before you take his side, you don’t even know his real name.”
Gene raised one finger. “First, don’t use that tone with me. Second, there are no sides when it comes to being kind. This boy has been through a lot and he’s here to ask you for help. I know how I raised you. Now I’m sitting here making sure those lessons stuck.”
Mark sighed then met my gaze across the table. “I’m not saying I won’t help you, but I don’t like that you involved my parents.”
I kept my tone even. “It wasn’t intentional.”
Mark nodded once. “Enimton—”
“He prefers to be called Ashen,” his father interjected.
In response to the questioning look Mark gave me, I said quietly, “It’s a nickname I’ve grown to like.”
With a glass of chocolate milk in each hand, Leslie returned to the dining room. “Mark, you didn’t tell me you invited Dylan. He just pulled in.”
Oh, boy.
Leslie continued, “Do you think he’s alone? Hungry? I’ll make more batter.”
Gene rose and went to stand with her. “I’ll help. Something tells me we’ll be getting quite a bit of company today.”
Alone with Mark, I waited to see who he’d become in the absence of supervision. Normally that’s when my parents showed the darker sides of their souls.
Mark met my gaze. “My mother cooks when she’s nervous and feeding people makes her feel better.”
I pressed my lips together before answering. “I didn’t know your father would be at your house. I wouldn’t be here, but he didn’t give me much of a choice.”
“I know,” Mark said in resignation. “He’s also right. I called Dylan after I spoke to you and he’s spread the word to the others. They’re all on their way.”
“Good,” I said even though I had no idea if it was a good thing yet.
Dylan strode into the room and came to stand behind his brother.
Stanley bounded over to greet him. He bent to greet him enthusiastically, but when his attention turned to me that friendliness faded away.
Identical in facial features, but there was a hardness to Dylan that was absent in Mark. “Enimton.”
I stood. “Dylan.”
We sized each other up for a moment. Unsure of what to say to a man I’d accidentally put into a coma, who I now needed to be on my side, I chose my words carefully. “I’m glad to see you looking well.”
His eyes narrowed. “Thanks.” After a pause, he said, “Thane, Jesse, Scott, and Zachary are on their way. They’ve asked us to hold off discussing anything of importance until they’re here.”
Leslie returned and greeted Dylan with a hug. “We missed you last weekend.”
He returned the hug with a smile. “Jennifer found out about an artist in Maine who welds life-sized statues of moose. You know she had to interview him.”
Leslie nodded. “I saw her post on it and his grateful follow-up, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t missed.”
Their connection, especially knowing she hadn’t raised Dylan, tightened my throat with emotion.
Simmons had separated these twins, but somehow, they’d found each other again and become family.
It was enough to give me hope that there might be something good waiting for me on the other side of the potential chaos I was about to stir up.
The sound of a helicopter outside was followed by the arrival of the four other twins.
Had I not studied each of them while trying to determine which of them had the journals, I might have been confused by who was who, but they were each distinctly different.
Although Thane and Zachary were twins, Thane was in a suit and carried himself like someone who was more comfortable in a boardroom than a small town.
Zachary was dressed casually and looked ready to engage in a street fight if one proved necessary.
Scott looked exactly like the easy-going farmer/animal sanctuary owner he was, while his twin, who’d been raised with Thane, was in a suit and carried himself the way Thane did.
Leslie greeted each of them with a warm hug. Gene reappeared and did the same. There was a complexity to the situation that left all of us looking uncertain about how to proceed.
Breaking the awkward silence, Gene said, “Leslie and I made some stacks of pancakes. Come grab a plate and a drink. This ain’t no restaurant with staff.”
Not a single man failed to move when Gene issued that command. Like me, I was sure food was the last thing on their mind, but Gene and Leslie were a force that couldn’t be denied.