Page 36 of Loud Unspoken Memories

Bex jumps up on the bed. He sniffs around, looks at me, then stretches out protectively next to Marti. I want to call him a traitor for being drawn to her more than he is to me, his savior, but it’s not like I can blame him. She’s much prettier than I am. And she smells a whole lot better too.

I inhale deeply, her vanilla scent swirling around me as I try to sleep, knowing I might be the biggest jackass to have ever lived. How could I have said what I did to her? Every damn word was a lie. But it’s easier to have her believe what I said than try to explain how I feel like I’m betraying a woman who isn’t even here anymore.

~ ~ ~

“Last quarter’s financials,” I say, handing a piece of paper to Dad.

Normally, I’d just send them in an email, but with as well as we did, I couldn’t help going old school.

He glances at the numbers, eyes widening.

I’ve been working as the CFO for the winery since graduation a few years ago, but it’s taken me a while to get my footing. Dad has been more than patient with me, allowing me to make mistakes and learn from them.

The pride on his face as he grips my shoulder is palpable. “Amazing,” he says, beaming. “I knew you could do it, son.”

Son. It’s a word he’s always used with me and my brothers when we’ve done something that pleases him. It used to be acompetition between the three of us growing up, who could get the most ‘sons’ out of him.

“You’ve come a long way, Dallas. You’re proving yourself worthy of this job.”

“I’ve got to make sure there’s something left of the business for DJ to run one day.”

He smiles at the mention of his only grandchild. “That you do.”

“He’s sitting up now.”

Dad’s eyes sparkle with delight. “That’s wonderful. You should bring him by the house this weekend.”

“Can’t. It’s our fourth anniversary. I rented us a house on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“How could I forget?” He looks at his calendar. “Are your mother and I babysitting?”

I shake my head. “DJ is coming too. Phoebe doesn’t want to go a whole weekend without him. She’s still nursing him.”

“She’s an incredible mother.”

“The best.” I chuckle. “Do you know she’s already tossing around the idea of having another?”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Your wife was born to be a mom. DJ is one lucky kid.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“We’re all lucky,” he says, sparing a glance at the multi-generational family portrait he commissioned shortly after DJ was born.

“I won’t argue with that.” I check the time. It’s after five thirty. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to head out.”

“Go ahead. The latest cash-flow forecast I requested via email can wait until tomorrow.”

“I didn’t see that email. I can get on it right now.”

“You don’t have to, Dallas. I know how hard you work. Go enjoy dinner with your family.”

“It’s okay, Dad. It won’t take long. Say hi to Mom.”

“Will do.”

I leave his office, go back to mine, and read the email.

What he said was true, it could have waited until tomorrow. But I truly enjoy pleasing my father and proving myself to him, so I stay and put in an extra hour.

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