Page 72 of Passing Notes
I shrugged. “Maybe, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“I know it doesn’t, and I’m so damn sorry. I’ll go. You should talk to Clara, let her know how you feel about her. Tell her everything. And please tell her I’m sorry.”
“That was actually the plan. We were going to talk over dinner.”
“Shit.” He winced. “I’m sorry I intruded.”
I waved off his apology for the interruption. “No, it’s okay. I know everything now, and that’s a good thing. She’s been holding something back. It was so long ago I thought that maybe it didn’t matter if we never brought it up, but I think it’s been the key all along.”
He stood and gave me an unexpected hug. “If you change your mind and want me to talk to her, I will. I will do anything in my power to make this right.”
“Thanks, Sam.” I hugged him back.
“I don’t deserve your thanks, not when I’m such a huge part of what messed this up for y’all.”
“Look, it was Mom. She knows what buttons to push. She’s not above using manipulation to get her way with us, and she never has been. I don’t blame you for this.” His hesitance in believing me was clear in his expression. “I mean it. Do I wish you’d come to me? Of course I do. But I understand why you didn’t. We’re going to be okay.”
He slapped my upper back and headed for the front door. “I’ll call you,” he said when he reached the foyer and turned back. “Maybe we can get the kids together sometime, act like a real family for a change. How about Thanksgiving? No more phony bullshit. No more Bandit Lake and the country club. No more catered dinners and thousand-dollar bottles of wine. I want to dig out Dad’s stuffing recipe. I want to bake Grandma’s pies again. I want to burn a fucking turkey and be like we used to be in that tiny little trailer. Can we try?”
“I’d like that a lot.”
He grinned at me. “Me too. Remember what Dad always used to say?”
I shook my head, my lips turning up in a sad smile. “He used to say a lot of things.”
He stopped, hand lingering on the doorknob as his expression grew serious. “Sometimes you lose at the wrong time so you can win at the right time. Maybe now is supposed to be your time with her, Nick.”
“Maybe it’s our time too,” I said with all the hope in my heart. “He held our family together. Now it’s up to us.”
“Love you, brother.”
“I love you too. See you on Thanksgiving.” I threw my hands out wide. “Right here.”
“Count on it.”
An idea struck. Why did we have to wait until Thanksgiving to start reconnecting? “Hey, hold up. I’m supposed to play ball with the Monroes and a few other guys up at the Smoky Mountain Inn. Want to come with?”
His eyes lit up. “That sounds better than moping around my empty house. Thanks, man.”
This was it—things were changing for the better. I was going to get my brother back, and I knew in my heart now was my time with Clara. Now that I knew what had happened to break us up, I could start doing the work to repair the damage.
CHAPTER 22
CLARA
I’m sorry, Clara. I can’t go with you. I have to put my focus on college. My dad would have wanted that. I can’t do this face to face. I’d never be able to leave you. - Nick
The Fall Festival faded into the distance as I drove home.
I’d decided to tell Nick everything; I had no other choice. There was no way to keep it to myself now that Malcolm was in the picture. I would never be able to live with myself if Morgan actually ended up married to that asshole.
A quick text from Nick after I pulled into my driveway told me the kids were with Morgan at the festival and they were fine, and Malcolm had gone home to Knoxville “with a headache” exactly like he’d told me he would do.
I had time. I could plan the best way to tell Nick. But I was still beyond angry.
This was my secret.
It was one thing in my life that would not hurt anyone if I kept it to myself forever, and goddamn Malcolm for putting me in this position.
