11. Travis
"Family meeting is in…" I hold my hand out and let rip with a massive belch to the tune of the word session.
"Gross," Troy mutters, while Terry just rolls his eyes.
Hey, give me a break.
Most of these meetings are about mundane shit like handling shared responsibilities or proposing locations for the next family vacation.
This meeting I've called?
I have to:
a) check in with my brothers to see how they're doing after our mother had our uncle killed,
b) decide on a strategy to deal with our abusive, sexist, racist, and cheating father,
c) agree on what the fuck we want to do about possibly tracking down our half sibling,
oh, and d) I also have to inform my brothers that I scored us a massive raise during contract negotiations with the network that means we will finally be able to buy the land off Old Man Campbell—dependent on what I know will be one hugely contentious condition.
See why I thought kicking things off with a burp might relax everyone?
We're sitting out on the balcony of my hotel suite. The sky is clear and blue, and there's a gentle breeze blowing.
"How are you both doing?" I ask.
Terry aims a look at Troy. "Brother with the smallest dick answers first."
Troy gives him the finger but answers first anyway. "I'm…okay. Itching to get back home, but also very keen to see my bro take out his championship."
"Same here," Terry chimes in. "You've only got one round left, and then you'll be in the grand final."
"That's assuming I make it through the next round."
"You will. We believe in you," Terry says, his words accompanied by a smile.
Troy nods, and I wish I shared their confidence.
But my seven-year habit of choking in the grand final is not on the family meeting agenda—please see above—so I'm going to move straight past it and on to item A.
"Right. So. Uncle Tim. Looks like we dodged a bullet there."
Troy smirks. "Nice choice of words."
"I don't get it—oh, wait. Yeah, I get it." Terry smiles once he cottons on, then his smile fades once he really cottons on.
"You both know what I mean. The media bought the story Dad put out. We've filmed our grieving scenes for the show. We're done with it. It's over."
"What about the funeral?" Troy asks.
"I've spoken to Ando," I reply. "Cleared it with him that it won't be filmed. They'll issue that bullshit 'please respect our family's privacy during this difficult time' statement. So…it looks like—knock on wood—we may be in the clear." I look between my brothers. "How do we feel about that?"
It's not an easy question, so I don't expect either one of them to answer straight away.
Terry's the first one to share his thoughts. "I'm…a bit conflicted." He glances over at Troy. "Obviously what he did was so, soooooo wrong. But…but, you know, so is killing someone."
"I agree with that. In theory." Troy gets up and walks over to the railing before turning around to face us. "I'm not condoning what Mom did, but I'm going to be honest. I don't feel bad about it at all. It may be wrong of me. I may be earning myself an express ticket straight to hell for saying this, but I'm glad he's dead. It's what people who sexually abuse children deserve."
I look back at Terry.
"That's fair," he says cautiously. "I'm leaning that way myself. There's just that part of me that thinks killing him was a step too far. I'm sure I'll get over it."
"You don't have to get over it," I say. "What happened is monumentally fucked up on so many levels. He did what he did to Troy. He kept Mom drugged for over twenty years, depriving her of her own agency and us of a mother. Then Mom retaliated the way she did. None of this is good. Or clear-cut. It's the very definition of morally gray. We're probably always going to feel some sort of way about it for the rest of our lives, and that's okay."
"I guess," Terry says.
"Yeah, whatever."
I look between my brothers. For now, I'm ticking off item A as closed and moving on.
"Next thing we need to discuss is Dad."
They both groan because they each have a multitude of reasons to hate our father.
"He texted me this morning. He's coming to Hawaii. He'll be here for the grand final."
"How do you feel about that?" Terry asks.
"Not fucking great." I cross my ankle over my knee. "It's like he sensed his presence here is that last thing I want or need, and he decided to come anyway, because since when have my feelings ever mattered to him?"
"At least you matter to him," Troy points out, and it's impossible not to hear the hurt in his voice.
I honestly have no idea why my father focuses all his energy and attention on me. I always thought parents were meant to love all their kids, if not equally, then at least not in a way that emphasizes the disparity. But Dad, being Dad, hasn't even pretended to give a shit about Troy and Terry. I'm sure he loves them, but he does nothing to show it.
"He'll want to meet us at some stage," I say. "I don't know how he's feeling about Tim or the divorce, but I'd prepare for fireworks."
"Oh, joy." Troy shakes his head. "Something to look forward to."
"What about Mom?" Terry asks, sitting up a little straighter. "Is she coming?"
"Nope. She's staying put where she is for the time being, which probably makes sense."
"Do you think…" Terry starts, then stops. "Do you think there's a chance she'll be…normal? After all the drugs and shit have worn off?"
"Don't know, mate. It's not just the effects of the drugs, it's all the associated trauma. She's got a lot of stuff to work through."
"Should we be there for her?"
I try to push down my own complicated feelings about her.
I at least had a few 'normal' years with her where she was a devoted, active, involved Mom. But in a way, that makes it worse, because the difference between who she was then and who she became was all the worse to bear. I felt like she'd totally abandoned not just me, but my brothers, too.
And even though I now know the reason for that, I can't automatically switch off over twenty years of feeling, well…unmothered. Then again, she's also an innocent victim. Then again again, she drops a bombshell of a letter on us then fucks off to the other side of the world.
Nothing is ever simple when it comes to the Kings.
"Whatever happens next, it's going to take time," I say, trying to find the best way to help us navigate this tricky situation. "We have a WhatsApp group with her."
"We do?" Troy interjects.
"We do," I answer. "Haven't used it in a while, but how about we start there, hey?"
Terry nods, but I can see he's bummed. Even with our parents' divorce looming, I can see he's still holding on to his dream of our family reuniting.
"Hey. Mate."
He looks up at me.
"Remember that thing you said, about how dreams don't die, they just sometimes change?"
"Of course he remembers. It's the only smart thing he's ever said."
"Fuck off," Terry says with a grin to Troy, then turns to me. "Yeah?"
"Well, that's what it's going to be like with us. I know you want us to be one big happy family, and we can be. But it might look a little different to how you picture it in your mind. Okay?"
Another nod, a little more conviction this time. "Yeah. Okay."
Speaking of family not being what we imagined it to be, that segues neatly to… "Should we talk about the fact we potentially have a half brother or half sister?" I ask.
"Geez. The agenda for this meeting is nonstop," Troy observes dryly. "You should've warned us."
I smile and try to swallow, but my mouth's gone dry. If he thinks this is bad so far, wait until I launch the doozy I've saved for last. He's going to be so fucking pissed.
"I want to find her," Terry says, sitting up taller again.
"How do you know it's a woman?" Troy asks, then follows up with, "How do you even know that what Mom alleges is true."
"It's true," I say. "Well, it's very likely to be true."
Both of them look at me, so I explain the three occasions I walked in on our father fucking other women.
"Why didn't you tell Mom?" Terry asks.
"Because, hello, she's been a space cadet for most of our lives."
Troy rejoins us, sitting down in his chair. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because what difference would it have made?"
"Fuck."
"Fuck."
"Tell me about it."
"I don't know it's a woman," Terry says, returning to Troy's question. "But I hope that it is. How cool would it be having a sister?"
Troy and I exchange a look. I give him a slight nod, and he takes the lead. "Even if it is true and we do have a half sibling somewhere out in the world, it doesn't mean that we'll be able to find them."
"Or that if we are able to find them, they want to have anything to do with us," I chip in. "We have no idea what their life is like. And let's face it, we're not exactly the poster boys for the kind of people you'd want to have as your half brothers, right?"
"Oh my god, you guys are total hope killers. Let me just have this, okay? I'll do everything to track her down. I'll pay for the investigator. It's all on me."
"It's not about the money, mate. We just don't want you to get your hopes up only to have them?—"
"Don't finish that sentence," Terry warns, his voice laced with a steely hardness. "I'm a grown man. Just like you two. I know what I'm doing."
"Sorry, sorry." I huff out a gust of air. I guess I still see him as the baby brother I need to protect. "You're right. You are."
Okay. So with that issue resolved, it's time to address the thing I've been holding off telling them since LA.
"Is that it, then?" Troy asks me. "You going to adjourn this meeting with a fart, or something?"
"As if I'd ever be so tasteless."
"Yeah. So unheard off," Terry scoffs, smiling.
"One final thing. And I'll warn ya, you're not gonna like it."
Troy groans. "Spit it out, then."
"As you know, I negotiated our contract for next season."
"Uh, there is no next season for me, remember?" Terry cuts in. "Richie and I want to settle down in Airlie. I want to put my degree to use and have been looking into applying for jobs at a couple of primary schools."
"As long as you apply to teach grade three and under," Troy says.
Terry frowns. "Why would I do that?"
"You know, to match your reading level."
"Guys!" I bark, shutting their banter down. My nerves are on the verge of fraying. "Cut it out. This is serious." I turn to Terry. "Yes, there is a next season for you. And you, too," I say to Troy in case he had any doubts he wasn't wrapped up in this.
He is.
We all are.
"What do you mean?" he asks, his usual scowl making its first appearance. I'm actually a little surprised it's taken this long for it to emerge.
"I've negotiated a huge deal with the network, one that will allow us to finally turn the Big Dream into reality, but it comes with one massive stipulation."
Troy reads my face, reads my thoughts, and starts shaking his head. "Don't fucking tell me."
Terry's eyes dart between us. "What? What is it?"
I sigh. "The network wants full access to all three of us for the entire year next year."
"What?" Terry's gaze shifts to me with an incredulous expression.
"Hey. Don't blame me. It's their condition, not mine."
"What if we don't all agree?"
"Dunno. That was never discussed. I got the very distinct impression it's an all or nothing deal."
Terry drops his head into his hands, and Troy's expression is set to his usual murderous one.
"Look, I know this isn't what you may have wanted, but think of it this way—this next season can set us up for the rest of our lives. We won't have to do the show after that. We'll be set up financially and have enough time to figure out what we want our post competing lives to be like."
"But it's another year of…everything," Terry says. "All the attention. The drama. And I don't even want to compete anymore."
"I know, I know," I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair in frustration. "Believe me, I'm not over the moon about this condition, either."
I shift my focus between my brothers. They're silent.
Thinking.
This is asking a lot of them.
Terry's already mentioned he has no intention of returning to the tour next year, and I suspect the same may be true for Troy.
We're all in very different places in our lives now compared to when we started the season, no longer able to think purely of our needs, but needing to factor in our partners as well.
At least my partner is a fellow competitor, so we can be out on the road and still be together. That's not the case for these guys, so I can't say I blame them for not being eager to uproot their lives and subject themselves to another year of madness.
"Fine," Troy says. "I'll do it."
"Same," Terry mutters.
"Really? I…I was expecting to have to do a lot more convincing. And pleading. Possible begging."
"You can get down on your hands and knees if you like," Terry jokes.
"A position I'm sure he's very used to," Troy adds, and they both start laughing.
"What is going on here?"
"We're making fun of you, duh." Terry pokes his tongue out.
"Yeah. No shit. No, I'm talking about you guys agreeing so quickly."
Troy shrugs. "We're family. We help each other out. You've been there for us our whole lives. Now you need this. We're able to do it. So…we're doing it."
"Yeah, don't overthink it, Trav," Terry says. "It's really pretty simple."
It's a lot of things, but it is not pretty simple. It's a huge fucking deal. They're making a massive sacrifice, and they're doing it for me. My heart swells with love. I really lucked out scoring these two jokers as my brothers.
"Thank you," I say around the lump forming in my throat.
A few beats pass.
"Go on, do it," Terry says, grinning.
"Do what?" I ask, confused.
Troy rolls his eyes. "Call Old Man Campbell and tell him we're buying his land."