The Fable of Us (7 page)

“This is my
third
year, and believe me, I’m doing just fine. Thank you again though.” I felt my jaw tightening, so I worked it as loose as I could get it. The business I’d opened back in California had been the object of ridicule, scrutiny, and contempt in my family and those twined to it. To say their attitude wore thin on my patience would have been a tender way of putting it.

“You never were one for asking for help, Clara Belle.” Ford gave me a look, something meaningful in his eyes he was waiting for me to pick up on.

I pretended to ignore it while Charlotte attempted to wrestle his attention away from me with her roving hands and her body pressed against him.

“Maybe that’s because asking for help wouldn’t have done any good. Maybe it’s because there’s only helping yourself in this family—in this world,” I corrected when I heard my mom inhale, like I’d just slapped her across the cheek. I wasn’t saying anything that was intended maliciously, but I was voicing what we all knew to be the truth.

Ford twisted a quarter turn, freeing himself some from Charlotte’s hold. “God, you look great. Different, but great. You’ve come into your own, Clara Belle. Good for you.”

Charlotte’s hand stopped rubbing his shoulder.

I crossed my arms and moved a few steps to the side so I wasn’t directly in front of him. I wasn’t sure if he was intentionally fucking with me to get a response out of me or if he was being as genuine as Ford McBride was capable, but he was making me uncomfortable. Especially given our history. Especially given he was marrying my sister in five days.

It was Avalee who cleared the air, and just in time from the look on Charlotte’s face. I couldn’t tell who she wanted to water-board first: Ford or me.

“Come on, Clara Belle, who is your guy? I can’t take all of the suspense because Mom’s right, this one’s different. This one means something to you.” Avalee paused for a moment before waving dismissively at Ford. “No offense to you, Ford. Sorry.”

Ford’s clear blue eyes were narrowed some. “Plenty taken. Thanks though, Avalee. Besides, I could never make Clara Belle happy in the way she wanted to be. I knew that before I asked her out on our first date. I could try, but I could never try hard enough. She wasn’t meant for me.”

The room got quiet. Quieter. Inside, I felt closer to exploding though. Why was he talking like he hadn’t been cheating on me with my sister? Why did he get to stand there and pretend I’d broken his heart instead of the other way around? Why was everyone in this room content to go along with that and continue to play oblivious to the fact that Ford was marrying my sister after fucking her behind my back?

There was so much bullshit filling the air, I was, for once, thankful I couldn’t breathe down here.

“That’s because
I
was meant for you, Ford.” Charlotte put herself directly in front of him again, pawing his chest like a deranged kitten. After a few more seconds, she finally got his attention.

“Lucky me, sugar,” he cooed and kissed the tip of her nose as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Charlotte’s eyes closed as she exhaled like she was relieved or something. Watching all of this Ford push-Charlotte pull made me sad. Genuinely sad. I’d been wanting to talk to my sister about Ford for years and find out why she seemed to be under the impression he was a deity wrapped up in mortal flesh, because I knew for a fact he wasn’t. Charlotte and I might have had our differences, and she might have done everything to make my life harder than it needed to be, but that didn’t erase the fact that I loved her and wanted the best for her.

The man she was about to marry did not fall into that category. Or anywhere close to it.

“So come on and spill it already. No more distractions.” Avalee fired a warning look at Ford and Charlotte, who were kissing a bit too feverishly and
loudly
up against that doorway.

I did the mom thing and did my best to pretend it wasn’t happening.

“Who is he? Who’s this guy who’s got you all riled up?” Avalee waved at me like I was proving her riled-up point right now.

“You can meet him tomorrow.” I crossed my arms tighter, moving toward the staircase. Enough family reunion time for one lifetime. Time to retire.

“Come on, quit being so darn mysterious. Give us something to get us by until morning. “Avalee propped a hand on her hip and tapped her foot. “Tell us what he does.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because it always matters, Clara Belle.” My mom had resurfaced from her delirium now that we were talking about the man she was probably already scheming how to get me married off to, at least until she learned who it really was. She stepped up beside Avalee and adjusted her long hair held back by a couple of clips.

I didn’t know I’d rolled my eyes until they had already made their revolution. Mom didn’t miss it either.

“I bet he’s a movie producer, or maybe one of those indie rock singers from LA.” Avalee clapped a few times.

Meanwhile, Charlotte detached herself from Ford long enough to glare at her sisters like we were a couple of imbeciles. It had been a long time since I’d gotten that look from Charlotte. It had come with such frequency growing up, I’d kind of missed it.

“He’s probably one of those surfer bums whose address is the beach and gets around on the bus,” Charlotte added.

I continued slowly toward the stairs, my foot so close to stepping up the first one.

“No, he’s probably some high-powered entertainment industry attorney or a plastic surgeon to the stars or a real estate tycoon.” Ford stepped out of Charlotte’s embrace and meandered closer to me. Why was he looking at me like that? Why was he acting like the other three people in this room weren’t there? “Clara Belle wouldn’t just settle for anyone. She always had her sights set high . . . save for that one time, that one indiscretion . . .”

My blood rolled to a boil. Ford had no right to talk about my past like he knew the whole story. He had no right to deem who was or wasn’t worthy of me. He had no fucking right to call a person I’d cared about a mere indiscretion.

What a piece of work.

“Enough with the lame guesses already,” Charlotte half-shouted, glaring at Ford’s back as he moved my way. “Are you going to tell us what he does or not, Clara Belle?”

“I’m not.” I was in the middle of shaking my head when I noticed someone move out of the shadows at the top of the stairs.

It was a large, imposing figure, and one I didn’t need to look at full-on to know whose outline it was. I’d memorized all there was to know about him years ago. Those memories might have been shuffled to the back of my mind, but they’d always be there.

“Unemployed,” the figure now coming down those stairs spoke up. “That’s my profession at this current time. Any other questions? I’d be happy to answer them now that I’ve gotten me and Clara settled in.”

Three sets of eyes skipped to the stairway—Avalee’s widening the least, my mom’s widening to the point of being legendary—followed by three mouths falling open as they watched Boone make his way down the stairs. The fourth set of eyes, belonging to Ford, stayed focused on me, narrowing a bit more with every step Boone descended.

Mine though? Mine narrowed into slivers aimed at Boone. What in the hell was he doing? He wasn’t incapable of following directions, and I knew he’d heard me ask him to stay upstairs. He was doing this intentionally. He was purposely trying to make this hard on me. I’d agreed to pay him ten grand to act as my plus one for the week, but I’d forgotten to lay down a set of much-needed ground rules. It was clear he was going to spend the next week paying me back for what he deemed I owed him from our past.

I would have been better off showing up solo.

“Get the hell out of this house, Cavanaugh. You practically destroyed this family and this girl.” Ford’s voice filled the foyer, his finger thrusting in my direction. “You have no right to be here. Leave.”

Boone paused long enough in the middle of the stairs to look at Ford. To the others in the room, I knew Boone appeared as cool and in control of himself as he ever was, but I read the finer print they had yet to learn. The way the corners of his eyes creased when he was fired up. The way his knuckles pulled through his skin like they were readying themselves for a brawl. The way the muscles in his neck stiffened just enough to be visible. Boone had never liked Ford. Ford had never liked Boone. It wasn’t just teenage boy rivalry; it had gone much deeper than that.

“If messing up this family and that woman is your qualification for who does and doesn’t deserve to be in this house, then you better be the first to walk out those doors.” Boone’s hand tightened around the bannister, looking capable of turning the redwood into sawdust.

Ford shook his head, trying to look away from Boone, but he couldn’t. “I’m done talking with you. I learned years ago that trying to rationalize with a wild, savage animal is like expecting them to have a conscience. Neither is possible. It’s just in the animal’s nature to be wild. And savage.”

“Is that a promise I can get your signature on?” Boone continued down the stairs. “Because I really think I’d like that in writing.”

My poor mother was looking between Boone and me like she couldn’t figure out what was happening. She backed away when Boone tromped down the last few stairs. Avalee stayed where she was, giving me a curious look, while Charlotte’s head looked ready to spin.

Ford’s gaze sliced in my direction. “I thought you were smart, Clara Belle. The kind of girl who learns from her mistakes and doesn’t make the same one twice.”

Talking to me like I was a child. Patronizing me like I wasn’t in possession of a scrap of intelligence. If he wasn’t so far away, I might have slapped Ford McBride right then.

“It’s
you
who’s implying I made a mistake in the first place—no one else.” My voice came out two keys lower.

“I wasn’t exactly implying anything,” Ford replied, his gaze shifting between Boone and me like he’d just witnessed a train wreck and was trying to figure out what to do next.

“And he’s not exactly alone in his not implying that either,” Charlotte added, coming up beside Ford and winding her arm through his.

He tried to wag it off, but Charlotte’s hold was unbreakable.

“What I’ve never understood about you all is why you’re so concerned with everyone else’s business when you have no shortage of your own business that needs serious attending to.” Boone leapt down the last couple of stairs to land beside me. He shot me a sideways look before continuing. “I think that’s what Reverend Simmons would call fixating on the speck in your neighbor’s eye while ignoring the fucking plank in your own.”

“Reverend Simmons doesn’t say that word,” Charlotte said, like she was just as innocent of never saying it. Which she wasn’t. I’d heard her moaning it a handful of times before I stumbled in on her and my boyfriend.

“He should reconsider. Packs a punch, don’t you think?” Boone said, grinning at Charlotte in such a way it was clear he was teasing her.

Her eyes narrowed. “Like you’ve ever sat through a Sunday service in your life, Boone Cavanaugh. Who are you to preach to us about morality?”

Boone stuffed his hands into his front pockets and shrugged. “No one, but with you all being regular church-going members, I would have thought you’d be on the whole speck/plank bandwagon. But clearly I’m way off, because I could see that plank in your eyes, Charlotte, from a mile back. The one dropped there when you decided to set your sights on your sister’s boyfriend and fuck him silly in your sister’s—”

My mother’s throat-clearing rattled the chandelier.

I nudged Boone. He hadn’t accepted what I had—bringing up the past and the wrongs held within it didn’t result in an apology, but it could wind up declaring war.

“So you’re unemployed, Boone?” Ford said, moving closer to us while my mom started fanning herself like she was close to passing out.

What a mess. I hadn’t meant for this to happen like this. I hadn’t meant to shock and alienate my family from the word go.

“And I only needed to say that once. Good for you for improving your listening and comprehension skills, Ford. You get an A-plus. And that’s one your daddy didn’t even have to buy you.” Boone kept that half-smile pasted in place, acting like this entire thing was a game he was enjoying. Actually, I knew he was enjoying messing with Ford. It was one of Boone’s favorite pastimes, just like messing with Boone was one of Ford’s.

“And being unemployed is something new for you? Because that’s not what the unemployment office is claiming . . .”

Charlotte tugged on Ford’s arm like she was trying to warn him to shut up. I would have done the same to Boone, but I was afraid to touch him. I’d never been able to
just
touch Boone Cavanaugh.

“And high marks for wit and comic relief as well.” Boone clapped in Ford’s direction. “On a roll tonight, McBride. Nice to see what an Ivy League education and a couple hundred grand can buy a guy these days.”

“I’m pretty sure Estelle here has a gardening position open.” Ford lifted his arm in my mom’s direction, waiting for her to confirm.

Her lips stayed sealed. She wouldn’t offer Boone anything, I knew. A job pruning her roses included.

“Should be able to score a lot of overtime this week with the wedding and all,” Ford continued. “Enough for some pocket change for the next time you find yourself with a woman and consider stopping by a convenience store to pick up some supplies. You know, in case you want to learn your lesson from the first time.”

I felt like I’d just been punched in the ribs. My lungs collapsed, and I wavered in place. Around the room, my mom and sisters shared a gasp, while Boone’s hands curled into fists as he squared himself in front of Ford. His tense shoulders quivered with what I knew was anger. Some people trembled when they were scared; some quivered when they were sad. Boone? Anger was only that emotion that could truly shake him.

“I’m not the only one who forgot to show up with ‘supplies’ in our lifetimes, Ford, so step off.” Boone’s voice was low and rolled through the room.

Whatever Charlotte saw on Boone’s face had her reaching for Ford’s arm again, digging her heels into the floor as she tried to pull him back a few feet. Not that I could blame her. Boone might have been in front of me, but I knew enough about that tone to picture which expression went along with it. We also knew that when those two had gotten into it in the past, Boone had always come out the winner—at least in terms of the blood-and-sweat battle. Ford had come out on top when it came to getting out of jail free and getting a pass on detention