Page 24 of His Gift
I blinked and dragged my gaze up to meet Walt’s eyes. Actually, my heart broke for him, because Walt was right. Dad and Papa wouldn’t handle this well at all. Walt would get all the blame, and I would be praised once more as the good son, the responsible son. Dad would hand me everything that should have belonged to Walt where the family was concerned.
I hated it.
I glanced desperately to Enzo to know what to do. Instinct told me he could help. I wanted to protect and care for my omega with everything I had, but in that moment, I just knew it was my omega who would have to show me the way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Enzo
Ohhhhhhh. So that’s what this was all about.
Stepping into the middle of a massive family drama was not exactly what I’d planned to do with my weekend, but maybe there was a chance I could help in some way. I certainly had more than enough experience with crappy families to add some insight.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said, smiling and shifting subtly closer to Walt. “Do you want to maybe grab lunch with me and Shawn so we can talk about everything?”
Shawn looked at me like he might burst into tears and kiss me with gratitude. Yes, please!
Walt was not so pleased with things.
“The very last thing I want is to go out to lunch with my stuffy, arrogant, golden boy brother and his perfect, cute omega,” he snapped. “We have—” he checked his watch, “—fifteen minutes to go in there—” he pointed hard toward the Pullman Center, “—to give them a check to reserve the space forthe Christmas Eve supper. So get out that gold-plated checkbook of yours, brother, and sign on the dotted line so that Dad doesn’t string me up because of your incompetence.”
Everything Walt said was wrong in a thousand different ways, but rather than calling his brother out for it, Shawn looked defeated. “Okay,” he said, like a dog with its tail between its legs. “Let me just grab my satchel out of the back seat.”
As Shawn walked around to the car, I stared at Walt. He deserved an epic take-down for the way he’d treated the one person who desperately wanted to help him in every way. I opened my mouth to do the job that it was clear Shawn wouldn’t do, but my words caught in my throat.
“I suppose you think I’m pathetic, too,” Walt said.
He could have been bitter. He could have been spiteful and nasty. But all I saw was a desperately unhappy omega with an accidental baby on the way who didn’t know what to do about anything. He was like a cornered animal lashing out with pure fear. Kind of like Papa had been when he’d first gotten his cancer diagnosis.
I didn’t have it in me to make things worse by telling him what he needed to hear. Because there were other things he needed to hear just then that would be far more helpful for everyone.
“Tell me about this Christmas Eve supper,” I said, inching closer to Walt with as much friendly, omega energy as I could muster. It was the same brand of approachability I’d used with Papa’s nursing staff and with Papa himself for years. “It sounds like it’s important to your family company?”
“It’s one of our marquee events,” Walt snapped, still defensive. He tugged his coat closed and hugged himself tightly, like he was protecting his baby from the shit of the world. “Of course, Dad puts Shawn in charge of it every year, because he’sthe head of our entire philanthropic division. But I have a real passion for helping the poor and unhoused, too.”
My eyebrows shot up. Well, that made sense. Shawn was a philanthropist. I didn’t really know how that worked, but it sounded like his entire life was about being good and helping people. That definitely tracked.
I decided to skip over the deliberately antagonistic part of Walt’s explanation to try to cut more to the heart of the matter as Shawn joined us with a black leather attaché case slung over one shoulder. As we started toward the Pullman Center entrance, I asked, “What do you do at this supper every year?”
“We feed people,” Shawn answered.
I quickly glanced at him and shook my head slightly. Thankfully, he got the message.
“We provide a big Christmas dinner for people here in Norwalk who can’t afford it,” Walt explained, maybe thawing by about half a degree toward me. “We also pair up families that apply for the program with offices and businesses across Barrington and Norwalk. The families make a list of things they need, and the businesses band together to get everything for them. After supper, there’s a big gift exchange.”
“That sounds great,” I said as we reached the door. Shawn held it for both of us. “What else do you do?”
Walt shrugged as we veered through the lobby to the office. “That’s it. Supper and making sure everyone has a merry Christmas.”
About a thousand suggestions for ways to make the event even more useful to poor people, people like me, popped into my head, but I held my tongue. We reached the office quickly, and I had the feeling both Shawn and Walt wanted to take care of business then get out of there as fast as possible.
I was right. To my surprise, Walt was also right about the managers of the Pullman Center setting a hard deadline forwhen they wanted their check. I was a little suspicious that they were trying to screw Shawn over somehow, but Shawn was also smart enough and commanding enough to get a contract signed before he handed over the check.
The whole thing pissed me off a little. It was Christmas, for Christ’s sake. Why did people have to be so stingy and nasty at Christmas? It was supposed to be a charity event.
All three of us were in lousy moods as we left the Pullman Center. Walt practically raced to get to his car first, got in, and drove off without saying goodbye to either of us.
“Your brother is charming,” I said as Shawn and I reached his car.
