Page 22 of Family Affair
Ross made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Then it’s pure revenge.”
“I think so, too. Although he didn’t come out and say so.”
Cade remained quiet, thinking how Ward must be enjoying stringing their father along with all these assumptions of revenge. How neat that Ward’s plan allowed him to pay Rick back for an old slight, even though it wasn’t Ward’s primary objective. Unintended consequences and divine intervention. Yeah, it was profound.
Ross shook his head. “So dear old dad tried to throw him under the bus. What does it matter now? Water under the bridge.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of holding a grudge,” Cade remarked.
“Yeah. And because of their old beef, we’re screwednow.” Alex took another shot.
If he or Dan took in any more whiskey, the two of them were going to need a prop by the time the party started to keep them upright.
“Are you going to stay for the party?” Dan asked him.
“A while. Not long.”
Dan nodded. “I figured. You should stay. Go out and see people, shake hands. Some of them remember you since grade school.”
Cade shuddered. “Hard pass.”
“No, seriously. It’ll be very good for PR. Family unity and all that.”
He stubbornly shook his head. “Not my kind of party. Not interested in the people. Does that old judge still attend? You remember, with face warts in the shape of the Big Dipper?”
“Hedger?” Ross laughed. “Yeah, every fucking year! You know that he’s been outed for an affair with a banjo player who was his daughter’s friend? Such anardentadmirer of banjo music. Was caught with his dick down her throat in the backroom of a honky-tonk where she plays. By his daughter.”
Cade didn’t want to imagine the particulars. “Is he still a judge?”
“Far as I know.”
“Was the girl pretty?” Dan inquired.
“I wouldn't ride that into battle.” Ross snorted. “She does have a sizable rack from what the godsof social media told me, but the things look like our Uncle Ronald’s butt cheeks.”
Dan’s forehead wrinkled. “Wait a minute. You’ve seen Uncle Ronald’s naked butt? Tell me more.”
Feeling slightly frustrated, Cade nevertheless laughed as they went on with their stupid trash talk.
Might as well stay,he thought. Wasn’t it what he had decided? To stick around?
Soon Alex and Ross went to help get ready for the party, to make sure the preparations were underway. Dan also left, but not before sucking in another shot and dropping the glass in the sink.
With no role in the preparations or any real desire to mingle, Cade wandered the house in silence. He eventually found himself on the second story of his parents’ oversized home, in the room that used to be Ross’s, with an excellent view of the football field-sized lawn below.
His family’s traditional 4thof July garden party drew the cream of the crop amid Atlanta’s most prominent citizens. Anybody who was somebody fought for a chance to obtain an invitation. He remembered how a long-long time ago his father busted his ass building those connections, with Ward Williamson by his side. They used to make a strong team.
The trip down the memory lane didn’t improve Cade’s disposition. He sank into a worn leather armchair, feeling irritated and restless. The guests had gradually arrived, but like an antisocial introvert, Cade kept sitting there, observing the festivities with morose aloofness.
Despite the sweltering heat, the cheerful mood reigned, fed by the generous rations of cold drinks. His father was laughing with several older men in the shade of a white tent. Farther away by the pool, Alex, with an air of deep but fake concentration, was listening to a matron of undeterminable age, tanned extra-crispy, who ranted about something with animated body language. Hired caterers passed around refreshments with the expertise of seasoned quarterbacks.
A young woman rounded the corner and walked across the lawn. Her slender form in a simple white sheath dress caught his attention.
Pretty…
From his vantage point he got an impression of narrow shoulders and a long smooth neck. He wanted to see more of her face but the angle was wrong. All he could see was the top of her head with dark blond hair loosely twisted in a large heavy bun. He didn’t know her; he would have remembered if they met.
Drink in hand, she made her way between the tents in an unhurried, graceful gait, walking to wherever she was going. His gaze glued to the window, hewatchedasshecontinueddown the lawn until she disappeared from view.
