I’m talking about the agreement the three of us reached...” he said slowly.
Which earned him another shake of her head. “I haven’t even spoken to you since... How could you possibly think we reached some kind of agreement about anything?”
“You didn’t want to see me,” he reminded her. “Bruce explained. Understandable. I suppose I could have insisted on hearing the words directly from you but frankly, at that point, I was just glad to be done with it all. And still be welcome in my family.”
“Welcome in your... Mason, why on earth wouldn’t you be welcome? It’s not like Bruce was any saint—and if I was welcome, why wouldn’t you be?”
“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you didn’t know about the ultimatum?”
“About you staying away or Bruce would cause a stink?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course not! I would never have agreed to such a thing. If you, or Bruce, felt it necessary to tell your father or Miriam what we’d done...that was up to you two.”
Another question burned its way through the barriers he was trying desperately to hang on to. “Did you tell your parents?”
He’d only met them once. At the engagement party. But he’d spent more than an hour talking to her father. Had really liked both of them. They were farmers. Down-to-earth. Practical, not prone to drama. And yet, emitting a love that couldn’t be missed.
“Yes. Eventually. Not at the time...” She picked up the pencil again. “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” she said. “I had no idea that Bruce had gone to you, or that you’d been warned to stay away, but it’s all in the past. We have other concerns to deal with.”
She was right to get the conversation back on course. But this was his interview. He’d requested it. And he had to know where she stood. Where they stood. His grandmother’s life could very well depend on it at this point.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why I wasn’t around?” he asked.
For the first time since he’d come into the room she looked down. As though ashamed. Or embarrassed. “I figured you were mad at me for marrying Bruce.”
He had been. More than mad. But... “And you thought that would be reason enough for me to miss my only sibling’s wedding? You thought I was that much of a selfish ass? That I couldn’t get over myself for an afternoon?”
Her gaze flew back to his. “Not because you couldn’t get over yourself, no,” she said. “I thought you weren’t there because you couldn’t witness something you felt was wrong.”
It might have come to that—if he’d had a choice to make. More likely, he wouldn’t have gone because he’d still wanted her himself. But she’d loved Bruce. And Lord knew, Bruce adored her. No one had ever been in doubt about that. Including the other women his brother had slept with. “Bruce told me I wasn’t welcome. Warned me that if I showed my face he’d let everyone know what a jerk I was, taking advantage of his fiancée a week before the wedding.”
Her mouth twisted, and he remembered how it had tasted—a combination of beer and sweetness.
“He never would have done that.”
Her defense of his brother didn’t surprise him all that much. If the situation were reversed, he might do the same. Bruce had a way about him that compelled people to like him. To trust him. And even when, like Mason, you were forced to see his other side, you still loved him. Because he wasn’t a mean or malicious man. He was, at his core, a needy one.
“On the contrary, he most certainly would have.” And it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d stabbed Mason. It just would’ve been the worst.
“He’d have had to out me, too. And himself.”
Mason almost laughed, but not out of humor. “It isn’t like he would’ve taken a mic and announced the news,” he said. “Or even told the whole story. His version would’ve been more along the lines of an emotional aside to my father, where he was the total victim and where I got you drunk and then slept with you after you passed out.”
“And you don’t think I’d have stood up for you? Told the truth? You think I would have let it stay at that?”
He stared at her. “What I think is that you never would’ve known,” he said. “You didn’t know about the agreement...” Her stricken look bothered him. “My father certainly wouldn’t have told you. I just wouldn’t have been welcome anymore.”
“Your father would never have turned his back on you, Mason. Even I know that.”
She was right. To a point. “He’d see me, talk to me, sure. He’d definitely come running if I called in need.” Just as he would for Bruce. It was their way. “But any family invitations...they’d have stopped. Him calling to catch up, or to tell me one of his infamous stupid jokes...that would’ve stopped.”
If she didn’t realize by now how insidious Bruce could be with his twisting of truths, maybe she never would. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to rely on her for help. All he knew was, he had to try.
“And it wouldn’t have ended with my dad,” he said. “If Bruce needed support for something else, he’d drop a word in someone else’s ear at the pertinent time.” Bruce had been playing his parents against him since elementary school. Because Mason’s footsteps had been too big to fit him. Because Bruce, growing up in Mason’s shadow, had never felt he had a chance to become something great on his own. He’d developed a need to have everyone love him the most. A sense of competitiveness. Mason had understood that back then. And on the whole, Bruce’s manipulations had been pretty harmless.
Until Harper. At least as far as he knew.
“How do you know he didn’t do it, anyway? Tell people what we did?”
“I don’t.” At this point, Mason hoped he had. Hoped he’d be able to dig up enough proof of Bruce’s duplicity to help Gram get healthy again. To either show her what was really happening...or to expose Bruce to the authorities. He’d prefer the former, but if he had to involve the authorities, then he would. He wasn’t going to see his little brother kill his grandmother. Wasn’t going to lose Gram that way. And most certainly didn’t want his brother to be guilty of murder.
“I was sorry...to hear that Oscar died.”
He nodded. He wanted to ask about her parents, but didn’t.
He wanted to ask about Brianna, too. Wanted to know what the little girl had to say about visiting her father. The child was four—and precocious. She might have insights that would help them get the proof they needed to save Gram, and get Bruce the counselling he needed before it was too late. He needed access to Brianna, but had to get her mother on board first. He could only talk to Brianna if Harper approved.
“So...you’re telling me this is for real? That you really think Bruce broke Miriam’s arm?”
Among other things.
He nodded. “And I don’t think it’s the first time.”
“Lila
