Page 43 of One Last Night

“Did you overhear the conversation I just had?”

I decide it’s prudent to lie about that, so I reply, “No. I just arrived here. I was looking for Sean.”

“He mentioned going out for the day. Something to do with his business. He said he’d be back tonight.”

“Ah. Very well.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“He might have texted me. If it was an emergency, he might not have had time to tell me in person.”

Julian nods. “So it’s normal for people not to talk to the people they love.”

I purse my lips and sip some of my wine. He sighs. “Sorry. I’m just pissed off about the whole thing.”

He downs the rest of his vodka and pours some more. "You know, the worst part of the whole thing is that I've suspected for a while that he might be my father. We don't look muchalike, I guess, but growing up, I had a lot of his mannerisms. We both have a certain swagger when we walk and a lot of smiles that look the same. Not that you would have noticed that since neither of us has had any damned reason to smile lately. And Mom…"

His voice trails off. His fingers tap on the table, and he stares at the wall. “That’s another thing that sucks. She reallydidlove Dad. They had their ups and downs like any couple, but I remember the way she looked at him. I remember the love in her eyes. I even”—he chuckles—“I even remember them flirting with each other. She’d sneak up behind him and nibble on his ear, and he’d kiss her… Well, you don’t want to hear this. I’m sure they didn’t want me to see it. It wasn’t dirty, though. I liked seeing them be attracted to each other. It was enough to ease my doubts about my own parentage.”

He sips his vodka. “I kind of wish I looked more like Robert. Or more like Dad. As it is, Mom’s genes are so strong that I’m basically the male version of her. Anyway, I’m rambling. The point is that Momdidlove Dad, so hearing all of the shit she said about him the other night really sucks. And knowing that those old doubts I had are founded, and she actually slept with him really,reallysucks.” He shakes his head. “I just hate that she had to screw him right around the time I was conceived. Three months earlier or a year later, and fine, whatever, go be a slut if you want to. But… Damn it, I don’t want to have to wonder who I am at forty-three years old.”

He falls silent. After a minute, he finishes his glass and pours some more. He’s six shots in now, and these two will make eight. He’ll be drunk soon, not just buzzed but drunk, and he’s in clear emotional distress. Perhaps now is not the right time to tell him that his teenage daughter might have conspired with her boyfriend to sabotage his mother’s vineyard and framed hispossible biological father for the act because she was angry that he wouldn’t let her date his business rival’s son.

I try to offer some comfort instead. “Who you are has nothing to do with them, Julian. It has nothing to do with Robert and nothing to do with your mother. It doesn’t really even have anything to do with your father. You’ve become the man you are all on your own.

“As for your mother and Robert, they’ve been incredibly selfish about all of this, but try not to judge them too harshly. Marriage is hard. Building a life with someone takes every ounce of a person’s energy, and starting that journey at such a young age is terrifying and exhausting. I believe that your motherdidlove your father, very much. She allowed something superficial to get in the way of that for a moment, but even then, it had far less to do with Robert and far more to do with her own fear. It was a selfish and foolish act, yes, but it doesn’t detract from the love she had for your father or for you.

“You’ll need time to be angry, of course. But I hope that when your anger fades, you’ll be able to forgive your mother, at least. She made a horrible mistake, but she shouldn’t be punished for it for the rest of her life.”

He nods. “Maybe. I just…” He lifts his hands and lets them drop. “I’m just tired of constantly putting her emotional needs above my own. That’s what it’s always been about with her, and I’m over it. Between you and me, I’m glad that the vineyard is ruined. I’m glad that her petty little vanity project is falling on its face. It’s frustrating that this is going to affect the business, but we’ll survive it. I just want her to feel for a little bit what it’s like for her needs to matter less than other people’s needs.”

I don't respond to that. We sit there for several minutes, sipping our drinks and staring past each other without making eye contact. Finally, I finish my glass of wine and stand. "Thankyou for the drink, Julian. Whatever happens, I trust that you'll weather the storm."

“Oh, I will,” he says. “I’m just worried how much of me will make it out and how much will be left behind.”

I know that feeling very well. We're both shattered glasses trying to collect the memories that give us meaning, only to cut ourselves on the slivers of broken truth floating in those memories.

My thoughts move to Annie and the unopened letters in my bedroom back home in Boston. Perhaps it would be better to leave the truth behind and allow a comfortable memory to exist in its place. The truth is important, but not at the cost of so much pain.

This family is learning the truth of their past, and it’s tearing them apart. Maybe it would be better to lay the truth I now know about Luann and Kevin to rest rather than add more fuel to the fire.

But then there’s Robert to think about. He has his part to play in all of this, but he shouldn’t suffer prison time for something he didn’t do.

I need to know more before I can be confident how to act. I know only one side of this feud. It’s time I discover the other side. But I can’t talk to Robert. He’s too embroiled in the past to have a clear view of the present. I need to talk to someone focused on the present and the future.

I need to talk to Kevin.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

The question, of course, is,howdo I talk to Kevin? I could ask Sean to do that, but Sean is busy investigating the more logistical aspect of the sabotage. If Robertisthe culprit, then almost certainly he paid someone else to accomplish it. I can leave Sean to focus on that side of the case while I explore the potential that Kevin and Luann could be involved.

That’s what I tell myself, at least. Deep down, I suppose I know that the real reason is my desire to be involved in this case.Iwant to find the answers, not Sean. I want to prove to myself that I can still help people like the Bellamys. I can still expose or, in this case, lay to rest the scandals that plague them.

Of course, learning that Kevin and Luann are behind the sabotage will only allow me to help Robert Cartwright, not the Bellamys. I’ll have to hope that the fear both children feel will prevent them from doing anything foolish in the future.

Still, right is right. Robert has his faults, but he should not suffer for a crime he hasn’t committed.

None of this tells me how I can talk to Kevin. I pace my room back and forth and try to think of a way to approach him without Luann or Robert knowing.

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