Page 7 of Caden's Situationship

“Auntie married into this family based off the fact that she would have a major role in the company,” I reminded. I’d loved my aunt dearly, but I heard the details straight from the source’s mouth before she passed.

“Cordelia, you lack the heart for this business,” my father continued. “Your cousin Lance knows it, too. Yet, for some reason, he’s convinced that you can be by his side running Red Rose. We made you the Director of the Investment Management team because you have potential to be great, but I’m not so sure you’ll ever be ready.”

“I’ve been ready for years.” I dropped my fork onto my plate, counting to ten to calm my rattled nerves before I responded. My father was sexiest. Always had been. Yet, no one could tell David Rose what he was. “Why don’t you just admit that if I was your son and not your daughter, my heart for this wouldn’t be questioned? I know what I’m doing. You’ve just never seen that.”

“Calm down, sweetie,” my mother coaxed. “All we’re saying is that we want you to be sure that working in the family business is something you truly want. Lots of people change their profession and we often wonder if you’re better suited to follow in my footsteps like your cousin Abigail is.”

“I’m already following in your footsteps,” I reminded her. “Or have you forgotten about The Southern Belle handbook I wrote?”

My mother slightly cringed. “Dear, I’m not sure the handbook is what I had in mind.”

Hearing her say those words were like a slap to the face because no matter how hard I tried, I could never impress my parents. Oftentimes, I had teased my aunt about the fact that I should have been her daughter and Abigail should have been my mom’s daughter instead. With her gone, it left me on my own against the perfect duo.

I glanced at both of my parents as I stood from my chair. “If you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to get packed for my trip since I leave tomorrow.”

My father sighed, tossing his napkin onto the table. “Always such the drama queen. You start the disagreement and then you leave, making your mother and I annoyed and no longer able to enjoy our food.”

“Sorry to ruin your appetite,” I bellowed when I was almost to the front door. I’d been down this road with my parents more times than I could count, and although I couldn’t believe how little they knew about me as a person, I was glad that at least this time, Tim had packed me a dessert doggy bag that he handed me on my way out. In my thirty-two years, I’d never tasted anything better than Patty’s peach cake. It was worthallthe calories and the arguments.

I waited until I reached the safety of my car before I pulled up the name of the client I was meeting with in Arkansas. I doubted my evaluation of his business would take the entire three weeks, but a quick Google search usually proved if a business had made the headlines over something like bankruptcy or fraud, in which case, Red Rose would have some real concerns before doing business with them.

The moment I pulled up the picture of my client, my entire body froze. “Well slap my head and call me silly,” I whispered, running my hand over the image I’d found. Over the years, I’d pushed certain thoughts and people to the back of my mind ifitortheygot in the way of my responsibilities or the path I was expected to take. I’d deterred from my obligations before and the result hadn’t been pretty.

Looking at the photo, I was reminded of a time when life was easy and commitments didn’t result in life-altering moments. There were times when I thought nothing and no one could really surprise me. Funny how one glance at a picture of Caden Madden suddenly opened a floodgate of memories I thought I’d long buried.

Three

CADEN

Southern gentlemen. It’s a term often used to describe me, and no matter how true it was, it wasn’t easy being the good brother. The nice brother. The brother who everyone always expected to be positive and respectful. The one who folks were convinced never said a cuss word unless it was absolutely called for, unlike my brother, Crayson, who couldn’t say one full sentence without cursing his ass off.

But I cussed. Granted, it wasn’t as often as some of my brothers, but when the sweet sound of a word that used to make my mama whip me with a switch from the bush in our front yard passed my lips, I felt good about the shit. Satisfied. Almost like I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing because good guy Caden didn’t curse. At least the side of me that folks often saw.

When my name came up in a conversation, people expected me to care about the situation or topic of discussion. Which, in all honesty, wasn’t far from the truth. I tended to care more than I should about certain shit. Yet, if I owned up to the number of fucks I didn’t give about other things, folks would start looking at me sideways. As if everything they’d ever thought they knew about me was a lie. And the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint the southern folks who’d had a hand in raising me. There was nothing worse than the look of disappointment in the eyes of the Sunday school teacher who taught you every weekend of your childhood and deemed you her favorite of your generation. That was a lot to live up to. Pressure I couldn’t shake.

In a way, I welcomed the label because that meant I wasn’t invisible like I sometimes thought I was. Growing up in a family full of brothers and male testosterone, I was the last Madden people tended to notice. Malik got attention because of his brains and tenacity. Micah got attention because of his protective instincts and street smarts. Malakai felt deeply and was known for his art and the way he saw life in bright, bold colors. Carter hadn’t been around in years, but folks still praised him for his military background.

And Crayson … well, Crayson was known for being loose-lipped and reckless, which in a way, still meant he got more attention than I did. I was just good ole’ Caden. Reliable Caden. ‘Don’t worry, he’s always got the time’ Caden. ‘There’s no problem he can’t solve’ Caden. ‘No worries, he’ll always be around’ Caden since I was the only one still living in our Arkansas hometown.

Unlike my brothers, I hated living in the city and much preferred breathing the fresh country air. When we were younger, I was also the only brother who’d shown interest in the life of a rancher, which only added to the fact that I was often misunderstood. Not on purpose, my brothers just couldn’t really relate to me. Carter at least tried, but he decided not to stay around Cranberry Heights either, so I did what any other teenager who craved experiencing life and wasn’t noticed in their family did. After I graduated from high school, I went to college and did a few odd jobs before embracing my country ways and opening my ranch with plans to make part of the ranch a retreat for veterans and families of fallen soldiers.

And since I was also a triplet—middle brother to be exact—being asweetboy like so many claimed I was, and not thegoldenboy like Carter orbadboy like Crayson, I tended to feed into the stereotype because after a while, I realized there was some truth to it.

I was the type of dude who ran ahead to open doors for ladies and volunteered at the senior citizen home twice a month. I had yet to meet a stray animal that I didn’t take in, and if I passed a homeless person on the street, but was down to my last dollar, they’d get that dollar. No questions asked. I cared about people. Couldn’t help it. My Mama still reminded me that we’re all wired differently, and for me, I couldn’t help but be there for others.

And I would admit, I soaked up the southern gentlemen shit sometimes because I didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s disillusionment. Butdamn.There were sides of me that no one understood but a select few. Ways that would put those southern boy terms to shame and even shock my brothers if they knew.

And there were more than a few things that annoyed the crap out of me sometimes. Things that forced me to attempt to tell my family that I had a life outside of being their go-to guy. Malakai’s wedding a few months ago had been the start of an entirely new bowl of shit I didn’t like dealing with. The wedding itself had been amazing and my sister-in-law had never looked so beautiful.

Yet, by the time the officiate announced Malakai and Avery as husband and wife, my heart was in my throat. I wasn’t sure if anyone in the audience had noticed that I’d undone my bowtie as I followed the rest of the bridal party and the happy couple down the aisle, but I hadn’t cared.

It hadn’t been until that exact moment that it had really hit me that I was going to be even more disconnected from my brothers than I’d ever been. Crayson wasn’t married yet, but he damn near was.

They all had other lives. Family to care for. Kids to raise. I didn’t have any of that, and even more disheartening, I knew they wouldn’t understand if I tried to explain to them how I felt. If I alluded to the fact that the brother who was deemed the kind you marry and the one with the most love to give was the main one who couldn’t relate to any of them right now.

While they may have thought that my relationship with my exes was at least some likeness of what they currently had, they’d be disappointed to know that wasn’t true. To resemble what they had, I would have had to deeply loved a woman from my past. Let my guard down to the point of no return. Problem was, I’d never been in love. Not even close.

And now that four of them had somebody special, being the only single one in a family as big as mine was exhausting. For starters, everyone always thought that I had time to do the things they didn’t want to do or claimed they didn’t have time for. And if I pushed back on it, they reminded me that I was unattached and therefore, still had more time than they did.

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