Page 51 of I'll Carry You

He tore his sunglasses from his face, rubbed his eyes, then forced himself to swallow a few deep breaths and climbed back into the driver’s seat.

He had to talk to Mildred. This time, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The doorto Mildred’s house opened, and she stood there, still clad in a nightgown, hair up in curlers.

Jason crossed his arms. “No shotgun this time?”

She gave a weary sigh. “What do you want?”

“Five minutes of your time.”

Mildred gave him an impatient look, then pushed the door open.

“You’re going to let me in?” He stepped through the doorway. An old scent from his childhood came toward him. Like the combination of cedarwood and mothballs.

Mildred put a hand on the rail and continued up the stairs without looking back at him. “When a dog has the runs, do you let it shit on your front door where everyone has to step through it?”

What the hell did that even mean?Jason closed the front door and followed her. “I’m the dog in this scenario?”

Mildred gave him a look, her eyes gleaming. “You’re the shit. Thomas Cavanaugh was the dog. He’s the one that formed you into this.” Mildred gave a tired wave of her hand toward him. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m old enough to string words together and just have everyone assume I don’t have the brain cells left to know what I’m saying.”

She reached the top of the staircase and continued shuffling toward her kitchen. “Want some breakfast?”

He gave the back of her head a puzzled glance. She seemed to sense it and gave him another look, with a shrug. “You are my grandson. It’s not my fault you don’t know me at all.”

Mildred. His only living relative. The thought hadn’t occurred to him before. Besides Colby, anyway.

She walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. With shaking fingers, she lit one and took a long drag.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He observed her quietly, then sat at the worn, round kitchen table. There was only enough room at the table for four people. The chair creaked under his weight, the legs wobbling enough that he pictured himself falling on the red-and-yellow linoleum floor.

“I only smoke when I’m stressed. And don’t you tell me anything about how it’ll kill me. We all have to die of something, and I’ve lived long enough. Somehow, I keep outliving everyone.”

Jason chuckled. Instead, he held his hand out for a cigarette. He rarely smoked and mostly cigars when he did. Somehow the idea of sharing a smoke with Mildred was strangely comforting. She gave him a toothy smile. The package crinkled as she set it down on the table, lighter beside it.

Lighting one up, he leaned back in the chair, taking in the kitchen. The geese and chickens on the wallpaper had remained in his memory. The taste of tobacco was bitter in his mouth, the smoke stinging his throat. Mildred set out a glass ashtray and then sat beside him. “So you want to know about Kevin.”

The woman didn’t beat around the bush. He nodded.

Mildred tapped her cigarette. “You sure you’re ready to hear it?”

He leaned forward on his elbows. “Why wouldn’t I want to know about how my brother lived the last years before he died?”

The wrinkles around Mildred’s mouth cut deep lines as she frowned. “Kevin was in an awful state when he came looking for me. Took me three months to get him clean and sober. Then Jen gave him a reason to want to live.” Mildred wrinkled her nose, a bitter look settling into her features. “I always told Martha that man would ruin you boys. But she was just as afraid of him as you were.”

“Well, he’s dead now.” Jason watched the ends curling in at the tip of the cigarette in his hand. “They’re all dead. And Kevin’s son is my grandfather’s heir.” He’d spent the entire night thinking about it. Lying would never have gotten him anywhere with Mildred. If she found out the truth later, no nondisclosure agreement, no payoff would keep her silent. She’d proven throughout the years that she couldn’t be bought.

Mildred didn’t react, her chest rising and falling with soft breath as though he’d been conversing about the weather. “Except nobody knows Colby is a Cavanaugh. Which is why you turned up the moment you found out.”

She was as quick as he believed. Something about it gave him a satisfied feeling. His mother hadn’t been dumb either. Just stuck.

“Exactly. Grandfather didn’t know about Colby. He just knew Kevin went missing for a while. So he put in his will that if there was any other direct descendant, they would get everything, the shares in his company and his entire fortune. But if not, it goes to me.”

Mildred watched him for a few moments and then burst into laughter. Jason had been expecting an unusual reaction, but her outright mockery was hard to swallow. He watched her humorlessly, his jaw clenching. She laughed until there were tears in her eyes and then snuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray. “This is quite a situation, Jason. You must feel a bit like the brother of the prodigal son right now.”

He gave her a tight smile.Couldn’t have put it any better himself.

“So Colby is worth a few hundred million and . . . what? Inherits Cavanaugh Metals?”

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