“Why would they both lie about that?” he asked, sitting up straighter.
“I don’t know,” I said, “but she told Bart and Wyatt that she likes me. She thinks I’m good for Wyatt, and she told Bart she’d leave him if he ran me off. Do you think that Wyatt or Max know that and are lying to protect me?”
He sat back in his chair. “Wow…maybe.”
“But none of that makes sense because Bart knows we aren’t together. He thinks I’m sleeping with you. He told me so today at the construction site.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Was he threatening you?”
“No, I don’t think so. More like he was trying to get me to admit it.” I paused, then added, “It surprised me to realize Emily’s manipulative too.”
He was slow to respond. “It stands to reason she would need to develop that trait to survive.”
My heart skipped a beat. “They all would, the boys included.”
He frowned. “I guess, although I’ve never thought Max was manipulative. He’s mostly ‘you get what you see.’”
“Mostly?”
“I suppose you can’t grow up in that house without being damaged somehow.”
“His drinking,” I said softly.
“Yeah.”
“It sounds like Wyatt was his mini-me until their falling-out,” I said. “He wanted to please his father. Which means he would have learned the art of manipulation at the knee of the master.”
“You think he’s been manipulating you?” he asked, but without the heat I would have expected.
“Yeah, I think he’s been manipulating me ever since he discovered my secret.”
He reached over and placed a hand on my lower thigh in support.
“He’s definitely been yanking me around all day. He wasn’t forthcoming with information. And when I confronted him with it, he claimed he didn’t want to tell me everything because he wanted me to form my own opinion.”
“That sounds like a bullshit answer.”
“No kidding.”
“He still cares about you, Carly.”
“Does he?” I asked, seeing him in a whole new light now. “Or does he see me as someone new to play with?”
“I think he sees you as someone new, someone who didn’t know him before or during his legal mess. You saw him with fresh eyes, and obviously liked what you saw.”
I started to contradict him, but I suspected he was right.
“I know he promised to tell you his secrets, but I would have been surprised if he’d actually followed through. He was raised with the mindset that knowledge is power, and giving you information would have leveled the power structure. At the moment, he holds the power. He ultimately decided not to pull you up to his level.”
I gasped. He was right, because even now, Wyatt was doling out his information like they were precious gold nuggets. I closed my eyes. “My father played games. I refuse to do it with anyone important in my life. I need honesty. I need trust. Wyatt gives me neither of those things.” He didn’t answer. “Why am I still trying to figure him out, Marco? Why do I care what happens to him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you saw something in him and you’re trying to save him. Maybe that’s why you’re helping him.”
“Yet you haven’t tried to stop me.”
“I’ll never tell you what to do. I might ask you to explain your reasoning, but I’ll ultimately support whatever you decide to do.” He dropped his foot to the floor. “What happened in the nursing home parking lot?”
I wasn’t proud at my outburst of temper, but I didn’t want to flinch from the truth. “He was upset I wasn’t being agreeable. I brought up the fact that he’d reneged on our deal. I asked him to move several times, and he refused.”
“There’s more to it,” he said quietly.
I took a drink of my now-cool tea. “I told him that he knew my history with men, yet he still lied and withheld information from me. That he broke me.” My voice cracked and I took another sip. “That I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to fully trust again. When he still refused to move, I sprayed him.” I paused. “I’m not proud of it, but I’m not sorry either.”
We sat in silence for a bit, and I was relieved he didn’t try to smooth it over or convince me that I’d be okay. Instead, he left me to my feelings, which was exactly what I needed, further proof he knew me well.
Finally, I asked, “Do you remember going to a summer camp with Max?”
“Survival camp?” He released a short laugh. “Emily mentioned that?”
“She told me that Bart sent Max to the camp after Rodney Bingham disappeared. He thought that Emily was hovering over the boys too much and it was making Max into a sissy. He thought the camp would toughen him up.”
He grimaced. “Sounds like Bart.”
“Emily said she went to your mother and offered to pay for your tuition if she’d send you too.”
He nodded. “I knew, and Max suspected. He’s always been pretty intuitive. Even back then. It wasn’t Max’s kind of thing. He’d much rather have had his nose in a book, but he tried for his father.”
“Did you like it?”
A smile spread across his face. “Loved it. The outdoors. Physical activity… I was in my element, and Max even liked it some.”
“You two are more different than I first thought.”
He gave me a pensive look. “I suppose, but we always had each other’s backs.”
“Until I got between you two when I was looking for Lula.”
“No,” he said, gazing out toward the thin view of the valley. “The crack started when he came home from college. He would never tell me why. Before that he told me everything.”
“When I was leaving, I asked Emily what she told Max to convince him to come home.”
His eyes widened. “She told you?”
“Kind of.” I took a breath. “She said she reminded him of his family obligations.”
