Page 73
Story: The Usual Family Mayhem
“That’s not actually how family works.” I pointed at both of them. “You two taught me that.”
“Harlan’s wishes are irrelevant. We had no intention of selling back then and no intention now.” Celia managed a partial and completely unnatural smile. “We’ve expanded fine without his help.”
Gram continued to fume, lost in her head and unable or unwilling to move on from Harlan’s bombshell. “Why would anyone be targeting our company? And to reach out to him of all people? Ridiculous.”
The room spun to a stop. The sudden jerking movement made me sit up straight and hold on. All the talking and mumbling from Gram and deflecting from Celia amounted to wasted energy. I knew the truth. The harsh, unflattering truth that thrashed and screamed, begging to escape.
I shoved my plate and scone to the side. My hand shook from the force of the adrenaline coursing through me. I swallowed. Cleared my throat. Nothing eased the clogging tension. “About that...”
The ladies kept talking. To each other. Over each other.
“I doubt anyone had been fishing around. I’m sure Harlan was taking liberties with the truth, as he does.” Celia put a napkin over her scone carnage. “Bless his heart.”
I’d waited for one of them to use that deadly phrase during this conversation. It took longer than expected.
“Lying. He was lying.” Gram ramped up again. “Some company calls him out of nowhere? That’s ridiculous gibberish. This time he thought he could weasel his way in during tea.”
Celia winced. “The timing was bizarre.”
Enough. I could stop this. I needed to stop this. Time to be brave and take the consequences and figure out how to weather the fallout. “Gram.”
“He’s gone too far this time.” Gram’s voice crept up to a higher range. The one she used when she got really pissed.
This was partially my fault and I needed to own that. “Gram.”
Celia glared at Gram before plastering on the world’s fakest smile. This one was even less genuine than her last one. “You don’t need to worry about this, honey. We’ll take care of Harlan.”
“He refers to our business as ahobby,” Gram added.
Celia waved off the comment. “He says a lot of asinine things.”
When she pushed the plate with the scone toward me again I had a choice. Snatch it up and eat every crumb. Keep mentally running and hope this would blow over... or be a grown-up.
For the first time in more than a week, I landed on the right decision. Terrifying as it was to disappoint them. “Okay. Look—”
“No.” Celia’s hand covered mine. “We’re not letting him ruin our tea.”
It was a little late for that.
Celia eyed the plate in front of me. “The scones are the peach ones you liked.”
“There’s no reason to skimp. Take a muffin and a piece of pie.” Gram’s voice sounded better. Not normal but out of the high-octane range. “You need to eat.”
I couldn’t do this.
“Both of you stop for a second.” I shoved all the plates to the side. “It was me. I’m so sorry.”
Celia shook her head. “Harlan isn’t your responsibility.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
Celia didn’t but Gram did. Those intelligent eyes refocused. Thanks to years of practice, she heard my fumbling and reacted.
Gram sat back with her hands folded on her lap. “Explain.”
The clipped tone grabbed Celia’s attention. She sat in a pose identical to Gram’s. “Kasey?”
“I’m the one who proposed the sale of your business.” It hurt to shove the words out. Hurt more to watch them as I confessed. “Me. Blame me.”
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