gone?”
My mother suddenly becomes a study in guilt. She blinks rapidly and looks away. Her cheeks bloom with colour. She bites her lip. There is no doubt in my mind — I am not going to like her answer.
“Please, don’t tell me that I’m going with you.” The stiffness that has me standing ramrod straight finds its way into my voice. As much as I would like to see Europe one day, I have no desire to tag along on my mother’s honeymoon.
She shakes her head. I relax a little, but not much. Mom still isn’t looking at me. She isn’t talking either, and it’s what she’s not saying that I need to know.
I try to take control of the situation, to shape my own destiny. “Okay then. So I guess you’re going to leave me some money and the keys to the BMW, and I’ll hang out here at the condo until you get back.”
Finally, she looks up from her hands and shakes her head. “No.”
Clearly, my mother plans to farm me off somewhere. I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s what she’s done for all of her other honeymoons, which was fine when I was a kid, but I’m not a kid anymore. I dig my heels into the slate floor so hard I swear it cracks.
My defences are up. “Why not? I’m seventeen years old. In six months I’ll be eighteen — an adult. You know darn well I can take care of myself. Or are you afraid I’m going to throw wild parties and trash the place?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not. You are the most responsible, reliable seventeen-year-old I’ve ever met — including myself when I was your age. It’s just that six weeks is a long time, and —”
“You just said it wasn’t! You said the time was going to fly by.”
For the next few seconds, we stare each other down. I’m daring my mother to make me see things her way, and she’s trying to figure out how to do that.
She gives in first. Her shoulders sag, and the fight leaves her eyes. I sense defeat. But I’m wrong.
“Look, Dani,” she says, reaching out a hand to me. I shift my body away, and her arm drops to her side. “I was thinking about letting you stay on your own while Reed and I are away. I know you would be fine, and I’m sure I could find someone to check on you from time to time.”
I sense a but coming on, so I jump in to avoid it. “I’m good with that. I don’t mind if —”
She raises a hand to cut me off. “I’m not finished. Yesterday, I got a phone call from family, asking to see you. It was serendipity. Though I know you would be fine on your own, I think this option is better.”
I feel my eyebrows dive together. “Family? What family? Granddad died when I was eight, and Gran passed away six months ago. What other family is there?”
The tendons in Mom’s neck tighten as she swallows. “You have an uncle.”
“Get real. How could I? You’re an only child — like me.” And then the penny drops. “Whoa. If you’re talking about a brother to one of my many stepdads, forget it. It’s not going to happen. Uh-uh. No way.”
“I don’t mean that sort of uncle. I —” She takes a deep breath. “I have a brother.”
I cross my arms over my chest and sneer. “Yeah, right. Since when? Or did you just conveniently adopt somebody?”
Mom’s eyes narrow. “Be careful, Dani. You’re getting seriously close to stepping over the line.”
I don’t say anything. My mother may not be a cookie-cutter parent, but we both know who gets the last word.
For a few seconds my chest heaves, and my nostrils flare in and out like a fire-breathing dragon. Finally, I choke back my defiance and growl, “Fine. So tell me about this uncle.”
“He’s kind of a black sheep, a free spirit, a bit of a rebel.” She shrugs. “He marches to his own drummer. It used to drive our parents crazy. It finally came to a head when Sam was about twenty-two. There was a horrible fight. Then he left. And he never came back. From that day on, my parents acted like Sam had never even existed.”
“I take it this Sam is your brother.”
“Yes.”
“Older or younger?”
“Older by two years.”
“Soooo …” I draw out the word while I do some quick math. “All this happened about eighteen years ago?”
“That’s right.”
“And you haven’t seen or heard from him until yesterday?”
“No. My parents never heard from him, but Sam and I have always kept in touch. I just never told anyone.”
“Not even me?” I was incredulous. Who knew my mother could keep a secret, especially one as big as that?
“Dani, you were a kid. I couldn’t tell you. You might have let something slip. It was too big a risk. Besides, Sam swore me to secrecy.”
“So why spill the beans now?”
“Because your grandparents are both gone. We don’t have to worry about hurting them. And with the wedding and all, Sam sees this as his chance to get to know you.”
“Gran died six months ago, Mother. Why didn’t you say something then? And anyway, why isn’t this Sam coming to the wedding?”
Mom heaves a sigh. “Sam has been out of the country until recently. He only just got back. I couldn’t say anything to you until I got the okay from him. Surely, you can understand that. As for the wedding, it’s not his thing. Like I already told you, he’s a bit of a rebel.”
“Doesn’t he want to see you?”
“I’m sure he does. But obviously, that can’t happen right now. But he also wants to see you, and this is the perfect opportunity.”
“Why? He didn’t want to see me before. Why now?”
Mom clucks her tongue in exasperation. “You’re not listening, Dani. It isn’t that he didn’t want to see you. It’s that he didn’t want to hurt your grandparents.”
“Why would he care about that if they weren’t even talking? What happened between them anyway? I mean, what could be so huge that it rips a family apart like that? Did Sam rob a bank? Was he dealing drugs? Did he kill somebody?”
Mom frowns and shakes her head. “No. Nothing like that. It was a personal thing between Sam and them. You’ll have to ask him.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“It’s not my place.”
I don’t know if it’s the determined line of my mother’s mouth, or the way she roots herself to the floor like a three-hundred-year-old tree, but it suddenly dawns on me that I can argue right through the night, and it isn’t going to make any difference.
“You’re
