Chapter 4
Breezy
It’s been years since I’ve taken a nap—or even slowed down enough to consider it—but at a little after five in the evening, I’m already yawning so much I’m seriously considering it.
Last night wasn’t exactly restful with Tad Hanson, in all his drunk, gentlemanly glory, popping in on me every five minutes for the first hour after we arrived to make sure I had enough blankets and pillows and knew my way to the bathroom.
Even after he was done and passed out in his own bed, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling for another full hour, my body heavy with travel, grief, and too many thoughts.
By the time I unlocked the back door of Bennett and Norah’s house this morning with a key I’ve had since before the two of them got together, I’d only slept a whopping two hours, and exhaustion was a second skin.
But Norah was already in the kitchen with Autumn, and the sweetest smell in the universe—coffee brewing, toast in the toaster, the faint pureness of baby shampoo and sugar clinging to my niece’s curls—was enough to soften all my rough edges and give me a second wind.
Now, the late-afternoon sunlight slants through the windows of Bennett and Norah’s house, and I press my cheek into Autumn’s hair and breathe her in.
She smells like innocence. She smells like hope.
She smells like the breath of fresh air I need right now, and I cling to the feeling by tightening my hug.
She giggles and wiggles like a worm in my arms. “No squishes, Bee!”
God, those curls. Glossy brown spirals that frame her round cheeks and startling blue eyes that grab ahold of your chest and suck you inside, heart first. I swear, if her hair were blond, she’d be Summer’s twin. The thought makes my whole body ache. I miss her so much.
I kiss the crown of her head one last time. “You sure make cute kids, Ben. Goodness, Summer would’ve adored her.”
Norah’s eyes are warm, her hand resting on Bennett’s, and my brother’s mouth tugs into a ghost of a smile, though his eyes hold a little moisture.
“She would’ve,” he agrees. His voice is quiet but certain.
I set Autumn down, and she toddles off toward the basket of dolls in the corner. The silence she leaves behind is thick but tender, full of love and loss braided together.
Forever seven, that’s our sweet Summer. We lost her two years ago, and sometimes it still feels like yesterday.
“Here,” Norah says, handing me a cup of coffee as I sit down across from Bennett.
Immediately, I wrap my hands around the mug.
The warmth helps steady me. We don’t have to have the toughest conversation about my dad’s final fuck-you—I already called Bennett after the will-reading and had it, so that wound isn’t fresh anymore, but it’s certainly bruised and pulsing in the background.
Still, I find myself filling him and Norah in on the rest. “Logan showed up at the gallery yesterday,” I say, my voice weary.
“I was already packing up my shit and ended up telling him I quit. He looked panicked and begged me to stay and run things for him. Apparently, he knew about Dad’s will before he died.
He knew the galleries were going to him.
” I shake my head. “God. After everything Dad did, after all I sacrificed…and he just…cut me out of it all. And Logan knew and agreed to it. It’s all so awful. I don’t even have words.”
“I hate to say it, Breeze…” Bennett pauses, his jaw flexes, but his eyes hold no surprise. Which, frankly, shows how fucked up our family is. “But that sounds about right for Logan. Thinking you’d just run the galleries for him. You’re seeing the side of him I’ve been privy to for years.”
Bennett and Logan’s relationship has been strained for more than a decade.
I don’t know if there’s anything that would have brought them back together after all that’s happened between them, but I’m sure Logan’s role in Dad’s will planning and the galleries being taken away from me are only serving to nail the coffin shut.
“And the money,” I add carefully. “I didn’t tell you before, but…it wasn’t just the galleries. He left us twenty million each.”
Bennett’s expression hardens instantly. “I don’t want a dime of it. Not from him. Not after everything.”
“I figured.” I nod, affirming that his message is the one I conveyed on his behalf. “I told Logan that. And I said the same thing for myself.”
“Dad never saw me as a son,” Bennett says.
His tone is flat, but the words land heavily.
“I was an asset. A machine to produce work he could sell. Work that brought attention to his precious galleries that had you as a workhorse behind them the whole fucking time. That’s all I ever was to him.
And sadly, that’s probably all you were to him too.
I hate this is how you had to find out, though. ”
Norah squeezes his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles.
“Mom’s not much better,” I murmur.
“No, but at least she’s not worse,” Bennett says with a shrug.
“Flighty, selfish, off chasing cabana boys on some beach. She never cared about my paintings. That made her easier. She might not be mother of the year, but she sees me as her son, not a paycheck. And she never would’ve faulted you for telling Dad to fuck off and run the galleries himself either.
I don’t need her around, but there’s a little less dancing on the grave to it, if you know what I mean. ”
“That’s true.” I lean back in my chair, watching him. “Though, as her daughter, I could never trust her around any men I dated.” My mother loves to flirt and seduce, especially when the men are younger. Even her daughter’s boyfriends weren’t off-limits. “Our family is so screwed up.”
“Yeah.” Bennett laughs, and he squeezes Norah’s knee. “However, Norah’s family might take the cake for the most fucked up.”
“You won’t hear me refuting that one. I mean, my mother is currently sitting in an orange jumpsuit to prove it.
” She snorts at that, but then her eyes turn kind toward me.
“Breeze, I know what it’s like to have your world turned on its head.
I know what it’s like to need to escape to somewhere you feel safe.
I don’t know what your plans are, but just know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need without pressure or judgment. ”
“Thanks, Norah.” I’m grateful, but I’m also exhausted and sad and confused and so many other emotions I could scream. I sigh. “I wish I had plans. I wish I had even an inkling of a direction to go right now.”
No career. No job prospects. No boyfriend or husband or happy family. I’m basically aimless at the moment. The reality pinches sharply.
“You’ll get there,” Norah reassures, and Bennett nods.
“You will, Breeze. Dad and Logan’s bullshit won’t drag you down the rest of your life. Just give yourself a little time to work through it all,” he says.
We all go quiet for a long moment, but there’s a part of me that can’t leave this conversation without saying something on our brother Logan’s behalf.
Sure, I’m pissed at him, and yes, he’s probably one of the most selfish people you’ll ever meet, but he’s still my baby brother and I will always try to see the good in him, despite all the chaos his rebellion and bad decisions have created for our family over the years.
He said he went along with Dad’s will to protect me, and deep down, I believe his intentions weren’t malicious. It doesn’t make it all better, but it’s something—a something I’m trying to hold on to.
I know better than to say anything aloud, but Ben can read the look on my face anyway.
“Don’t do yourself the disservice of underestimating him, Breeze. I know exactly what that motherfucker is capable of.” Bennett barks out another laugh, but it’s not amused. “And now, clearly, you should too.”
Maybe someday my brothers won’t be estranged. Maybe someday I’ll convince Bennett—and hell, myself too—to give Logan another chance. But I know today isn’t that day, so I don’t argue.
Thankfully, the front door creaks open before the conversation can dig deeper.
“Hello?” Josie’s voice floats in, followed by Clay’s deeper timbre.
“Is our little Autumn in here?”
“JoJo! CayCay!” Autumn squeals, barreling toward her aunt Josie and uncle Clay. Josie drops her bag and sweeps Autumn up, kissing her face until our niece is nothing but a curly ball of giggles and squeals.
Clay follows suit, taking Autumn out of Josie’s hands and raining kisses all over her chubby little cheeks. Instantly, everything dark and dismal about our conversation disappears, and the room feels brighter.
“All right, Clay.” Bennett rescues Autumn from her uncle’s affection on a laugh. “Any more kisses and she might puke.”
Bennett and Clay have been friends for years and years. Clay was actually the first one to move to Red Bridge and start a bar in spite of his own father, and Bennett ended up following in his footsteps when Summer was born.
The two of them have seen each other through the worst and the best and everything in between, and they handle it all with love—and incessant razzing.
Clay flashes his best friend a shit-eating grin. “Aw, Ben. You want some sugar from Uncle Clay too?”
See what I mean?
“You can f-u-c-k right off with that,” Ben mutters as he sets Autumn on her feet. She runs across the living room on quick feet and doesn’t stop until she reaches the little dollhouse I bought her from a boutique in New York for her first birthday.
“Weeee!” she exclaims as she takes one of the dolls out of the house and pretends she’s flying in the air. “Fast gurl! Go fast gurl!”
Finally released from the cute toddler spell by Autumn’s exit, Josie notices me sitting here for the first time, and I laugh as she starfishes her limbs in shock. “Hold the freaking phone! What are you doing here, Breezy? When did you get here? Why didn’t you call?”
She crosses the room in three strides and drags me from the couch to pull me into a hug.
“I literally just got in,” I laugh, hugging her back.
“Well, it’s good to see you,” she says with a smile.