Page 13 of Shephard

Jagger’s call the night before had reminded me of that.

However, my father and mother had both been insistent. I’d finally listened to the voicemail from Pops after Jagger had left a message now almost a week before. Whatever was going on didn’t matter in my life. I could take an hour and leave.

The others had already arrived as was to be expected, likely grousing that I was late. As usual. That’s what my father would say. I could bank on it.

What I hadn’t really thought about was that my two brothers had taken similar jobs to the one I had after leaving their military positions. We hadn’t commiserated on the similarities. I’d had their positions, while also shrouded in secrecy, tossed in my face by my handler when I’d tried to refuse a single job. He’d offered to use one of them, paying them more than they were getting paid.

Maybe that’s why I had such animosity toward my brothers. I honestly didn’t know and hadn’t cared enough to think about it.

The other aspect of this meeting was that Dad thought his sons, once highly respected and decorated military men had turnedinto bums. Because of my past and the choices I’d made, I could never talk about my experiences. I suspected the same for my two brothers. We’d made up shit, lives that mostly didn’t exist.

Even the ugly truth that not one of us had found any kind of happily ever after was also similar. Our required deception wouldn’t make for a festive family gathering.

I took a deep breath and climbed out of my truck, running my fingers through my unruly beard. I hadn’t bothered shaving in the last… few months. Why start now? My rugged appearance certainly hadn’t bothered the sexy woman in the least. I didn’t bother knocking, although I almost did. My mother had insisted this was our home too any time we wanted to visit. We’d been out of any house they owned and their care for almost fifteen years. Why would we go back?

How could we ever learn to become a family?

As I walked inside, I was struck by how beautiful the interior was. It was a typical A-frame with large windows allowing for maximum light. With high ceilings and wooden beams, and the Shenandoah Mountains in the background, the place could be considered picture perfect. Although I’d always wondered why Pops hadn’t fought harder to keep the place in Montana.

He’d had his reasons.

Not that I’d asked that either.

I heard voices and sucked in my breath. Might as well get this over with.

The family-style room took up a good portion of the back of the house. With the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, two sets of couches and chairs, and a bar on one end, the room could beused for large parties. I was in the room by two feet before my father noticed me first.

“Well. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming. Late as usual,” he said gruffly.

“Dexter!” my mother hissed. “You will not do this today. We are a family. You will remember that. Or else.”

My mother did have a way of shutting all four of us down. I walked closer, eyeing my two brothers. They didn’t have a pleasant look on their faces either. While I might not know about what was happening in either Jagger’s or Hunter’s lives, I knew enough to realize they hated the family meetings as much as I did.

Was it too early in the day to start drinking?

Even I wasn’t that addicted to getting away from my life. I had to drive home.

“Hello, Mom. Good to see you. Yep. Late as always, Pops. Big construction project that needed my attention.” I might as well perpetuate the lie. “Why don’t we just get this meeting started?” I wasn’t a big talker and I also didn’t mince words. Not in this family.

“There goes our brother again,” Jagger said through clenched teeth. Hunter was just staring at me and I never knew whether it was out of jealousy or hatred. “Mr. Know-it-All.”

Jagger had a boulder on his shoulder much like I did. We were far too similar in appearances and how we handled difficulties. I could tell he was as hollow inside as I was.

I almost wished we could be close. But we’d never been a Hallmark kind of family. Yeah, the frontal lobe of my brain saidit was because our father had been tough on us. Not normal tough either. Not take away privileges if we fucked up, but brutal. I just didn’t know.

My father laughed bitterly. He and I definitely didn’t get along and never had. There wasn’t a singular underlying reason that I could think of, but it had been going on for so long that maybe I’d just blanked out the memories.

“Stop it,” my mother begged and her voice was different than the last time I’d heard it. Did she have tears in her eyes? “This is important. I know you all don’t want to be here and that saddens me as I miss you. All of you. You have busy lives, but so do we. You never call. You never asked if you could help with the resort. You have no idea how many hours we spent on this place and on the hotel itself. We worked hours. Nights. Weekends. You didn’t give a shit. Well, you will listen now. Damn it. I don’t ask anything of the four of you because you act as if anything I request isn’t important. This is.”

Her words and sadness echoed even with the high ceiling. Our mother had endured our tantrums and hatred through the years, doing everything she could to pull the family together. Every holiday. Every birthday.

We’d ignored it.

“She’s right,” I said. I wasn’t trying to make peace for him, but our mother was an angel. “We owe it to both of them.”

At least that seemed to appease her, but she was still wringing her hands.

“They don’t give a shit, Sally,” Pops said gruffly.

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