33. Landon
Chapter 33
Landon
“Can you pass the peas?” my father asked from across the table. I slid the bowl toward him so he could scoop another helping of vegetables onto his plate. He could have all of them if he wanted. They weren’t my favorite, but he loved them, so I made sure to keep a few cans stocked in his pantry.
Since finishing the bakery remodel, we were back to our normal routine of having dinner together a couple times a week. Now that I was no longer working nearly twelve hours a day, I had more time to spend with him. Lyle hadn’t been around much either, though I wished he had.
His presence was a double-edged sword. If he came around, we risked him stealing from Dad again, but it would make pinning him down for a long, overdue conversation a lot easier. As it was, I would have to track him down after I left here, but I’d gotten a tip about where he might be this evening. Before I could do that, though, I owed my father a conversation.
“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” I began, trying to act casual despite the thundering of my pulse against my ribs. Lyle had given him the same story about the accident that he’d given me. It painted Olivia as the bad guy, the selfish, irresponsible princess I once believed her to be. My father was understandably angry, just as I was, but he never held the level of contempt for her as I did. He believed the cops when they said she wasn’t intoxicated and chalked it up to being a tragic accident. Maybe he realized Lyle had been lying this whole time. Or maybe he was just too focused on helping Lyle recover to put as much energy into hating Olivia as I had. Either way, I wasn’t sure how he would handle me dating her, but after Lyle, he was the person who most deserved an explanation.
My dad studied me for a moment, worry creasing his brow as he set his fork down. He sat forward and leaned his forearms on the table.
“Is everything alright?” he asked. I swallowed, steeling myself against his reaction. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat suddenly felt dry. I was about to admit to him that Olivia and I were together. I was dating the person we’d always blamed for ruining Lyle’s life. I picked up my glass and took a long sip of sweet tea and placed it on the table before clearing my throat.
“Remember how I worked on the bakery renovations?” I asked.
“Of course. It’s only been a few weeks since you wrapped up that project. I know my health isn’t great, but I haven’t gone senile yet,” he claimed with a chuckle. I released a relieved breath, and my shoulders relaxed. My father was always easy to talk to. I didn’t know why I was so nervous to tell him the truth.
His expression turned serious, his eyes filling with trepidation.
“Whatever it is, son, you can tell me. I’m a tough old guy. I can handle it.” A long moment passed before I gathered enough courage to speak.
“I’ve been seeing Olivia Duprey in secret.” His eyes grew round as saucers, and he choked out a cough. It took him a solid minute and several sips of sugar-free lemonade before he could speak again.
“You-you’re dating Olivia?” I nodded my confirmation, and his mouth fell open.
“Well, this is unexpected,” he said finally. “I shouldn't be surprised, though.” It was my turn to look shocked.
“Why’s that?” I asked, curious how he came to that conclusion.
“You went from complaining about her every time we spoke to acting like she didn’t exist. Not one mention of her name or complaint about what she wanted for the remodel. It happened around the time her bakery got vandalized.” I winced at the mention of the night of the vandalism.
“Yeah, about that…” I began, but my voice trailed off. Dad waited patiently as I searched for the right words to tell him what I’d suspected. “That’s when things changed between Olivia and me. I was already fighting these feelings for her I didn’t understand, and when that happened, I learned the truth about the accident.” He cocked his head to the side, waiting for me to elaborate.
“Lyle’s account of that night wasn’t exactly accurate.” He nodded as though he suspected as much, and my stomach twisted with guilt. Even our father had doubted Lyle’s version of events, yet I was fully committed to believing Olivia was the villain. I didn’t want to dig too deep into why that was. I was sure a psychiatrist would chalk it up to mommy issues or something equally as concerning, and they’d probably be right.
Shaking away those thoughts, I recounted the conversation I’d had with Olivia that morning as we stood among the rubble of her broken front window. He listened intently as I relayed Olivia’s account of the night of the wreck. He shook his head and buried his face in his hands as the ugly truth spilled from my lips. His eyes were misty, and his features twisted with grief by the time I finished.
“Once I learned the truth, it was that much harder to fight my feelings for her,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping in defeat. “The night we stayed at the lake house…” I began, but my voice trailed off. I didn’t want to talk to my dad about anything intimate that had happened between Olivia and me, but that was the moment everything had changed. “I couldn’t pretend anymore. She wasn’t who I thought. I no longer looked at her with the lens of Lyle’s lies tainting my perception. And what I saw was…” I shook my head, a soft smile curving my lips. “I think I’m falling for her, Dad. And I don’t know what to do. Lyle will never forgive me.”
I stood from the table abruptly, and the legs of my chair scraped loudly against the linoleum. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I paced back and forth across my father’s tiny kitchen.
“I’ve been trying to reach him. He won’t answer my calls, but I need to talk to him. I want him to hear it from me that I’m dating Olivia. If someone else finds out and tells him, he’ll think I betrayed him.” My stomach knotted with worry and guilt. My father watched silently as I continued to wear a path on his floor. “He’s already vandalized Olivia’s bakery and car. I’m afraid what he’ll do next when he learns I’ve been seeing her in secret. I’m worried he won’t be able to handle it, and he’ll OD again.”
I turned to face my father, hoping for his words of wisdom, but his face had turned ashen, and he blinked up at me wide-eyed. His throat bobbed with a heavy swallow before he opened his mouth to speak.
“Lyle did all that?” he asked, his voice shaking. I nodded.
“The police don’t have enough evidence to prove it, but I know it was him.” Who else would go through all that trouble to hurt Olivia?
Dad stood from his chair, wobbling as he gained his balance. It was tough with his prosthesis, but he’d managed to acclimate to the foreign limb. He came around the table and stood in front of me.
“If this is what you truly want, then you’re right. You need to find him. He won’t handle it well if he hears it from someone else. Don’t waste another minute,” he pleaded, grabbing me by the shoulders. His worried expression said it all. He also feared what Lyle would do if he found out before I could tell him. My brother could go off the rails and try to numb his pain in the most self-destructive way.
And this time, my father could lose his baby boy for good.
My foot tapped against the floorboard impatiently as I waited for my brother to emerge from the ramshackle building. I had to ask around, but eventually found out this was one of his usual haunts. The house sat on an overgrown lot with several dog kennels in the backyard. The dogs barked any time someone came near or a car drove by. The snarling beasts were covered in cuts and scrapes, and one was missing half his ear. Disgust curled my lip, and my stomach soured. I loathed anyone who harmed animals. It took everything in me not to ram through the rundown house with my four-by-four. It was already falling apart. It wouldn’t take much to topple it completely.
The front door flew open, and Lyle finally emerged. He glanced from side to side nervously as he stuffed something into his pocket and yanked his too large shirt over his waistband. Opening the passenger door of a vaguely familiar sedan, he hopped inside, and the driver pulled onto the street. I followed at a distance until the car stopped at a small cottage that looked to be in a little better shape than the one my brother had just come from. The paint on the siding was peeling, and the roof over the porch dipped slightly on one side, but the yard had been mown and was picked up. There were children’s toys peppered across the yard and a rusty swing set that had clearly seen better days between the house and the woods bordering the property.
I expected my brother to go directly inside, but instead, he skirted around the side of the house and disappeared into the back yard as the car pulled away from the curb and drove off. I parked a few houses down, hoping he wouldn’t notice my truck, and jogged down the sidewalk. There was no one outside, but I still felt eyes on me as I stopped in front of the house. It was stupid to go onto someone’s property I didn’t know, but I needed to talk to my brother, and this was the only way I could do it.
I followed the path he took leading behind the house. It was cool and shaded against the late evening sun. It was almost dark, and already the cicadas created their symphony of summer.
Lyle stood at the back of the property, smoke curling into the air from his lit cigarette. He took a long drag from it and blew it out before speaking.
“Hello, brother.” A hint of a sneer tainted his greeting.
“Lyle,” I said as I approached, stopping a few yards away. He was unpredictable at best and had a pocketful of something that would make him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. It was best to keep my distance.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I’ve been busy,” he said and continued to puff on his cigarette, holding it between his thumb and forefinger like a joint as he turned to face me. Staring into his dull blue eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to deliver the news that might crush him, so I settled on confronting him about the vandalism. I needed answers. It didn’t matter that my instincts told me he did it. I needed to hear it from him.
“Somebody vandalized Olivia’s bakery and her car. Do you know anything about that?” I asked, gauging his reaction.
“Now why on earth would you think I would know anything about that?” he asked, feigning innocence. He didn’t fool me, not anymore. I studied him for a moment, taking in his rigid posture. The hard set of his jaw and the hatred burning in his eyes gave him away. A sense of relief filled my chest, but it was quickly replaced by unease.
“You know, don’t you?”
“Know what, big brother ?” he sneered and threw his bud to the grass before putting it out with the toe of his shoe. “That you’ve been enjoying my sloppy seconds or that you betrayed me by hooking up with the bitch who ruined my life?”
“Watch your mouth,” I growled, unwilling to let him get away with slandering Olivia any longer. He scoffed and pinned me with a glare.
“So you would choose that whore over your own brother?” Ignoring the stab of guilt spearing through my chest, I pushed on.
“I know what really happened that night. You’re the one who caused that wreck, not Olivia.” His eyes narrowed into slits, and his nostrils flared as he took a step toward me. I stood my ground, unwilling to show my trepidation.
“Is that what she told you when she came to the garage after hours to see you?” All the blood drained from my face, and I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat. Had he known all along about us? Was he following me?
A satisfied grin curled his lips, and he continued.
“Did she whisper those lies in your ear while you fucked her?” The taunting lilt of his tone turned to a growl, and his chest heaved as rage washed over his features. It made sense now why he wrote whore on that paper and on her car. The timing wasn’t a coincidence. He thought we were sleeping together back then, but we weren’t. I still believed his lies at the time, but he didn’t know that. All he knew was we were alone together in a place we shouldn’t have been and assumed the worst. Then he took his revenge.
Indignation swelled in my chest, and I rushed to defend myself against his accusations.
“It wasn’t like that. I defended you!” He let out a humorless laugh.
“Right,” he said sardonically. “And you didn’t spend the night with her at her family’s lake house? Oh, and all those times your truck was seen parked in her driveway, you were ‘remodeling her bathroom’.” He rolled his eyes and scoffed.
“It … nothing happened until the lake house. But we didn’t spend the night together. It didn’t go that far.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either.
“It doesn’t matter,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m your brother. She’s nothing but a spoiled rich bitch who everyone thinks is all sweet and innocent.” His nostrils flared, and he took a step toward me, his expression hardening. “Well, she’s not. She hasn’t been innocent for a long time. I made sure of that when I popped that sweet cherry of hers.”
Anger pulsed through my veins, and fire licked up my spine. He was goading me. I realized that, yet I couldn’t help the way my fists curled at my sides. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to forget that he ever touched what was mine, but he wanted to rub it in my face that he was her first.
Well, little brother, I would be her last.
I had to remind myself that, like a cornered and wounded animal, he was lashing out. He was hurt, and the only way he knew to deal with those unpleasant feelings was to hurt others in return. I understood, but I wouldn’t let him get away with it any longer. He was on a self-destructive path, and I couldn’t stand to watch his entire life go up in flames.
“I know you’re upset, and you feel betrayed, but what you did was wrong. Olivia didn’t deserve all the shit you put her through. She certainly didn’t deserve to have her business attacked and her car trashed.”
Lyle gritted his teeth and glanced away, unable to meet my eyes. His chastised expression brought me back to when we were kids, and he got in trouble. I always wanted to protect him, even when I knew he was guilty. That was what big brothers did. Seeing him like this caused a regretful ache to take root in my chest, and I softened toward him a bit.
“I’m so, so sorry you got hurt that night and that wreck derailed your football career, but Olivia isn’t at fault, and you can’t keep blaming her for all your problems. You need to take accountability for your part in it. Maybe then you can start to find peace.”
His chest heaved as he drew in a deep inhale and released it. He still refused to look at me, but I hoped what I said got through to him. I wanted to pull him into my arms and comfort him like I did when he was little and skinned his knee or fell off his bike, but I suspected he wouldn’t welcome my embrace.
“Find peace,” he repeated thoughtfully as his stare fixed on the ground between us. Seconds passed before he finally looked up again, but he still refused to meet my eye. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked up the steps to the back porch, disappearing inside without another word.