They fell silent for a moment, and Logan pressed his lips together. This was as awkward as he’d thought it would be.
“I heard about your wife’s passing,” Junior added. “Dad told me. I was sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. My mom would have been the one to let him know about Caroline’s death. That wasn’t me.”
Junior’s eyebrows went up. “Well, all the same, I’m sorry to hear it. How is your son? You have one boy, right?”
It seemed that Junior... Eugene...had kept up on the details of his life better than Logan had done in return. He felt mildly bad about that.
“He’s doing pretty well,” Logan said. “He’s traveling in Europe right now.”
“Hey, that’s great! I did a Europe trip after high school.” Junior’s face lit up. “I did Germany, Austria and France.”
“Because you had a father to help pay for it,” Logan said, but he bit back the rest of what he was going to say. His half-brother had done Europe? This was the first he’d heard of that particular inequality. Harry hadn’t helped Logan out financially at all.
His brother’s smile fell. “Right... Look, I know things weren’t always fair that way, but I didn’t have any control over that.”
“I’m not blaming you,” Logan replied.
“All the same, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t bring that stuff up with Dad.”
“That’s your professional advice?” Logan asked bitterly. “As a psychiatrist, you figure burying all this family stuff is the healthier way to go?”
“As a son worried about his father’s failing health,” Junior replied tightly. “I’m sure you both have a few grievances, but this isn’t the time.”
So Harry had some grievances with him? Great. That sounded promising. He could step in line.
“Look, I’m not here to make waves,” Logan said. “My mother passed away, and she left a locked box for our father in her will. She also left instructions that I was to deliver it personally.”
“Your mom passed?” Junior froze, the fight seeming to go out of him.
“A year ago,” Logan said. “It sounds like it was the same year your mom passed.”
“What took you so long to deliver it?” he asked.
Logan shrugged. “I’m trying to do better with these things.”
For whatever it counted for now.
“I’m sorry, all the same. How does all of this make you feel?” His brother asked quietly.
Logan eyed his brother with an icy look. “Shut up, Junior.”
The younger man smiled wanly. “Sorry. It’s part of the job.”
“I’m not here for grief counseling. I’m abiding by my mother’s last wishes. Period.”
“I actually didn’t think Dad and Elise were in contact anymore,” Junior said.
“Hey—they were adults. I have no idea if they talked from time to time, but if they did, they didn’t have to answer to us for it.”
His brother didn’t answer that.
“If you could just give me the address to the place where Dad is staying, I can be out of your way and you can carry on with your plans for the day,” Logan said.
“Like I said, Dad is in a fragile state—”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Logan asked testily. “Do you think I’m going to yell at him or something? I’m here to deliver something and let him know that my mother has passed away. That’s it.”
Junior rubbed his hand over his chin, then sighed. “Fine. There are nurses to make sure he doesn’t get too agitated.”
That sounded like a warning, but Junior went to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a business card. He passed it over. “You can ask for him at the front desk, and they’ll see if he’s interested in a visit.”
Logan hadn’t considered whether Harry would be interested in seeing him after all these years. Logan nodded and tapped the card against his palm. “Thanks. I appreciate the information.”
“No problem.”
Logan headed for the door, and he glanced back as he opened it. Junior stood there, his expression clouded, spinning his wedding ring on his left hand. It was an expression Logan had seen on his face before, back when Eugene was still called Junior and Logan was talking to their father about something.
Jealousy? Worry? Competition? What had that look been covering all these years?
“Say hi to your wife and kids for me,” Logan said, and he realized that he didn’t know any of their names.
His brother didn’t answer.
Logan had an address now. He could visit his dad, and then get back out of town and put the last of these uncomfortable memories behind him.
MELANIE PUT THE plastic bags full of groceries on the floor next to the fridge, and looked into the sitting room. Tilly was on the couch, flipping through the few staticky local channels they got with just an antenna.
“What happened to the cable?” Tilly asked, sounding bored.
“I used to only set it up for the month that we were here.”
“Why don’t you have it now?”
“Because this is now my home, and I’m not catering to the tastes of kids anymore.”
And she wasn’t here for TV watching—she was putting her life back together.
“Other people watch TV,” Tilly said, casting her an annoyed look. “What, are you too good for TV now?”
“You understand that this isn’t your home anymore, right?” Melanie snapped. “I’m not responsible for your cable TV, or your cell-phone bill, or whatever else will make you comfortable. I’ve bought some groceries, and you’ll just have to make do with what’s here, unless you want to buy your own.”
“So that’s how you’re going to play this?” Tilly retorted.
“Play what?” Melanie spread her hands. “Tilly, you’ve spent literally years of your life loathing me, and now your dad and I are divorced!”
Tilly’s phone blipped and she looked down at it. For a moment, Melanie saw the girl’s eyes mist, then she turned away and started typing. Melanie sighed. Was she being cruel here, pointing out the obvious? Melanie was the only mother Tilly had ever known, but the girl had also been raised with a solid understanding that she wasn’t Tilly’s “real
