Authors: Kieran Kramer
“That’s an extremely wise judgment,” said Dubose.
“It suits our situation, anyway.” She felt a little uncomfortable with the effusive praise.
From his back pocket he pulled out a sheaf of papers. She hadn’t realized he was carrying any.
“In fact,” he said, “I’d be really grateful if you could sign these. Feel free to look them over. It’s pretty straightforward. All they are is a promise that you Maybanks”—wow, already she was part of the “other” family—“won’t try to sue my mother and me to gain a portion of my father’s estate.”
True felt ill. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No.” He shrugged. “I’m protecting the family. I would have done the same for you had we married. So don’t go casting judgment, please.”
“But you don’t need to protect yourself against me or Weezie. That’s … that’s crazy!”
His mouth thinned. “It’s why I’m an attorney and you’re not. It’s not crazy at all. Plenty of people would try.”
“But we’re not plenty of people. We are still your neighbors and friends. We’re not interested in your money.”
“You’re not?” He drew in his chin. “You sure seemed willing to use it to fix up Maybank Hall when you were going to marry me.”
True colored. “That’s different. You’d have lived here, too.”
But it was too late. He’d thrown it out there … that she’d been after his money.
“I obviously wasn’t a gold digger, if that’s what you’re implying.” She strove for patience. “I broke off the engagement, didn’t I?” She pushed away from the table. “I’m not interested in signing your papers, but you have my word. We will never sue your father’s estate. Let’s live in harmony, Dubose. Biscuit Creek’s a small town.”
He stood, too, and tossed the papers on the table. “You’re forcing me to play hardball. I’ll give you ten minutes to look them over. And if they’re not signed, I’m going outside to tell Weezie she’s my half sister.”
True’s temples pounded. “That’s so needlessly cruel. If and when I tell her, it will be at a time I decide is appropriate. And quite frankly, with the way you’re behaving right now, I don’t know that I want her to find out she’s related to you.”
“You have nine minutes,” he said.
“All right.” True grabbed the papers, her hands shaking, and sat back down. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“Here’s a pen.” He sat back down, too.
She grabbed the writing instrument unceremoniously from his hand and kept reading. It was all gobbledygook legalese. She had to pray he wasn’t going to cheat her somehow. “How do I know you won’t try to blackmail me again?”
“I’m not interested in anything else from you. I can have my pick of Charleston’s beauties anytime.” He paused. “New York ones, too.”
She nearly gasped. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll never know, will you?” His eyes were hard. But amused.
Bastard
. All those late nights he’d texted her about? Those long silences on the phone when she thought he’d been watching sports?
“Boy,” she said, not taking her eyes off his, “did I ever make the right decision. I guess you’re right. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all.”
“Touché.” He looked at his elegant watch. “Six minutes,” he reminded her coolly.
True read faster. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t dare.
“Stop it, Sister.” Weezie’s angry voice came from the entrance to the hallway. “Throw those papers away.”
True looked up and saw her sister, her face white and stricken. She must have circled the house to drop a bucket off near the barn and come in through the front door.
“Shit,” Dubose muttered.
“Weezie, honey—” True began.
But Weezie was on fire. She pointed to the back door. “Get out of my house, Dubose Waring. I don’t care if I’m related to you or not. You’re mean. You’re fake. And you took advantage of my sister when she was scared and lonely. I never want to see you on our property again.”
The dogs must have gotten her message because suddenly they all started to bark.
“Now settle down, Weezie.” Dubose pushed George’s and Ed’s heads away. But as soon as he did, Striker, Skeeter, and Boo barked at his feet. “I only wanted to make sure you wouldn’t sue—”
“Shut up,” Weezie said. “Just shut up and leave right now before you make me really mad!”
“Goddammit, True.” Dubose’s face was beet red, his mouth an ugly snarl. “Talk some sense into her.”
“Leave now,” True said quietly. “You’ve only come here to cause tremendous strife. I’ll forgive you someday, Dubose, if you remain a polite neighbor, but for right now, I’m seriously irritated with you, to the point that”—she grabbed her egg basket from the kitchen table—“I just might start throwing eggs.”
“You’re crazy.”
Weezie came up to her and grabbed two.
“Back door, please. Not the front,” True said pleasantly. “You can take the long way around, escorted by the dogs. And maybe Phred, the rooster. He’s in an ornery mood today. We let him out of the coop to work it off. Watch out—he loves grabbing ahold of people’s calves with his spurs.”
Dubose narrowed his eyes at them. “Thank God I didn’t get saddled with you two.”
Weezie pulled back to throw the egg, and he ran out the back door.
“Hahaha!” she called after him. “Coward!”
They watched him skedaddle out of there, and then True drew her sister back into the kitchen. “Give me those eggs,” she said.
Weezie obeyed.
True put them in the basket, and before she’d even turned back around, Weezie was sobbing hysterically.
“Daddy’s not my father?”
“Of course he is.” True hugged her tight. “In all ways that matter.”
Weezie cried.
And cried.
True soothed her as best she could. “Who took you on his knee every day? Who bought you that red bicycle you wanted?”
“But another man slept with Mama,” Weezie wailed.
“Daddy knew all about it”—True rubbed her back—“and he forgave her. You were his daughter. He was your father. You were precious to him and Mama both. Nothing will ever change that.”
She reached over to grab a kitchen towel and wiped Weezie’s nose.
For the first time in three minutes, Weezie took a break from sobbing. “There was a secret about me. A really big one.” She inhaled a shaky breath.
True smiled gently. “I know—crazy, huh? And you’ve been trying to find out everyone else’s.”
Fresh tears came.
“I thought about telling you later,” True said, “but I wanted to think about it first. I didn’t want
this
to happen, right when you’re going off to school.”
Weezie used the towel on her eyes. “I’m glad I know.”
True pulled a lock of hair from her face. “Are you going to be okay? I know it’s a shock.”
Weezie didn’t answer, then she said, “How long have you known?”
“Since I was about eight. I didn’t know all the details, however.”
“And you kept that secret
all these years
?”
True nodded.
“Wow.” Weezie shook her head. “I had no idea we had secrets in this house.”
“Well, it didn’t change a thing about how anyone felt about you. Look at us. We’re sisters forever. We’re Maybanks. And no one can take that away.” She led her to the kitchen table and kissed the top of her head. “Sit here, and I’ll make you some cocoa. I don’t care that it’s hot outside. It’s your favorite drink.”
They spent half an hour together. True hoped Weezie wouldn’t suffer much adapting to her new reality. She hated change more than most people. But nothing
had
changed. Not really.
Damned Dubose.
They laughed together about threatening to throw eggs at him.
“If only Harrison had been here.” Weezie she started to cry again.
True’s throat tightened. “You can tell him all about it on the phone.”
“He’d have kicked Dubose’s ass.” Weezie sounded wistful. “Don’t you miss him?”
True looked into her now empty cocoa cup. “I do.”
“Do you love him? Tell me the truth, please. No more secrets, okay?”
True sighed. “All right. I do.” It was sad, but she couldn’t afford to get that way. She grinned and added, “‘I love him like crazy, Ma.’”
“
Moonstruck.
”
“Yep.”
“I love him, too,” said Weezie. “Like a brother.”
“I’m glad. He loves you, too.” True looked at her watch and tried to forget that Harrison had rebuffed her on the phone. It was too painful to think about. “You think you’ll be up to going to the party? We’d need to leave in forty-five minutes so we can help set up.”
Weezie nodded. It was shaky, but she was a real trouper. And she remained that way when they got to The Damned Yankee. Gage was arranging Reubens on several large platters, lining them up just so.
“Great job, Gage.” True’s heart quickened when she saw him. He was her friend. But he was also Harrison’s brother.
“Thanks.” He barely looked up, but his tone was warm.
Carmela hugged her. “We’re making Vermont floats, too.”
“Is that what Roger’s doing?” True asked. He was setting up some kind of station beneath a tree on the sidewalk in front of the store. “Weezie’s out there helping.”
“Yes,” Carmela said. “It’s milk, real Vermont maple syrup, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.”
“That sounds fabulous.” True looked around at all the new merchandise. “I have a great feeling about this, ’Mela.”
“Me, too. I put a big ad in the Charleston paper. I dedicated the opening to Dad and his friends. And I mentioned that we had three special guests coming for the ribbon cutting from the same station. So maybe we’ll get a few people in. And look at this.” Carmela took her to a wall and pointed.
“Oh, my gosh. Who did this?”
Carmela had tears in her eyes. “Gage did. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” It was a beautiful plaque naming the firemen from Mr. Sherman’s station who’d been lost on 9/11 at the World Trade Center. On one side of the plaque was a picture of all the guys from that time, and on the other side was a picture of Carmela with her father on their apartment house doorstep. She was about eight or nine.
True hugged her. “This is so special.”
“Thanks.” Carmela smiled. “The guys from the station are supposed to be here any minute. They’re so young, their early twenties. Isn’t that sweet that they came all the way down here?”
“So sweet.” True wasn’t going to tell her anything about her morning. That was news for another day.
Carmela squeezed her hand. “You okay in general?”
“Sure.” True squeezed back. “I’m so excited about your store.”
“Me, too.” Carmela’s gaze softened. “But being with Gage all the time now makes me think about Harrison. And you. I’m glad you told me what happened between you two. You’re single now. You should contact him.”
True’s heart was still bruised. “I told you … our lives are too different.”
“Remember I said love conquers all?” Carmela turned to Gage, who was arranging napkins in a perfect fan shape. “When’s Harrison coming back again?”
“I don’t know. He was planning to be here when the house is done. But he just got signed as a judge on that big singing competition reality show. He’ll be on the West Coast a lot this year. He’s heading to LA today to get the publicity going.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Carmela threw out her arms and stared at Gage with her wide cat eyes.
Of course he’d be a judge on that show! True was happy for him.
So why did she feel so miserable?
“I just found out yesterday,” Gage said. “We were busy here … I forgot.”
“Gage”—Carmela’s cheeks were flushed—“you have to promise never to be too busy to tell me about family, all right? He’s your only brother.”
“All right.” Gage looked momentarily unnerved by Carmela’s strong admonition, but she followed it up with a big kiss on his cheek. So all was well again.
“I’m so sorry,” Carmela came back to True and wrapped an arm through hers.
“Don’t be,” True said. “You see what I mean. A relationship with Harrison is impossible. Look at you and Gage. You have to be together. One kiss can make all the difference between a good day and a bad day. Talking face-to-face matters.”
Carmela’s forehead wrinkled. “I know what you mean, but I’m still not convinced you two can’t have the same thing. Let’s focus on the store opening right now. But I promise you, I’ll be thinking.”
People in love always wanted other people to be happy, didn’t they? True appreciated her friend’s concern, but she had to live in the real world.
Half an hour later, everything was ready, and the opening was officially under way.
“Wow,” said Carmela. “This is it!”
“You did a great job.” Gage readjusted some jars of mustard from a Brooklyn deli.
“It’s perfect.” True tried not to be worried that no one had shown up yet. “Let’s go outside and look.”
The door to the store was flung wide open. On the sidewalk, True took in the enchanting view and squeezed Carmela’s hand. “I am
so
proud of you.”
Carmela smiled. “Thanks.”
She’d painted the words
THE DAMN YANKEE
in an old Colonial font above the shop, and True felt that the beautifully rendered name alone was enough to draw people in. To the right of the stairs, an American flag flew in the breeze from a bracket that Gage installed on the brick storefront. Roger and Weezie were poised behind a bar table with ice cream scoops, ready to make Vermont floats. A cooler behind them brimmed with vanilla ice cream and gallon jugs of milk. On the table itself, glass containers of maple syrup stood at the ready, along with red-white-and-blue straws and plastic beer mugs with the store name emblazoned on them. Strains of patriotic flute-and-drum music floated out from the interior of the shop, welcoming one and all to visit.
Carmela did a 360. There wasn’t a soul on the street. “I hope someone comes.” She peered across at the Starfish Grill. It was open, but only a few people sat in the window. “Where is everyone? It’s like a ghost town.”
“I don’t know,” True said, “but they’ll come.”
Carmela wrung her hands. “My three firemen aren’t here, either. Do you think they got lost? Maybe I should call them.”
Gage put his arm on her shoulder. “Give them a few more minutes.”