Page 21 of Family Affair

“Well, hell. There goes my breakfast.” He threw the whole box into the trash and flipped the faucet to wash the mess off his hands.

His parents were observing Dan in silence.

“You’re an idiot,” Rick finally said before turning on his heels and leaving the kitchen.

Everyone stayed quiet.

“I assume you boys wanted to talk.” Maureen glanced meaningfully at Cade. “To catch up.”

Alex leaned against the kitchen island. “Nothing too deep, Mother. We’re here for the party.”

“I hope you enjoy it. The guest list is large this year, a good mix of people.” Maureen hugged herself in a protective manner. Cade noticed that she carefully positioned herself apart from where he stood.

“Is Ward Williamson coming?” He dropped the question out of a sheer desire to poke her.

Someone made a choking sound behind him, probably Ross. Maureen blanched, and her gray eyes grew wintry. “Don’t try to be funny, Cade. He’d have to be invited to attend.”

“He may decide to crash the party. I did.”

Maureen collected herself. “Whatever your reasons are for being here, I’m glad you came.” Her words fell on deaf ears for Cade knew them to be a socially acceptable noise, not a true sentiment. “I need to go. The band delay is unfortunate, but maybe I can rearrange some things around to make up for it. At least the fireworks people were the most accommodating this year.”

“Everything will be fine, Mother.” Alex put a consoling hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let anxiety spoil your party. You knock it out of the park.” He checked his watch. “We’ve got an hour before people start arriving. Why don’t you go rest?”

She perked up and dropped her hands. “You’re right, dear. Better catch on my naptime while I can. I’ll see you boys out later.”

She left as quietly as she entered.

“You shouldn't have encouraged her, Alex,” Dan said accusingly. “She’ll pop a pill.”

“She doesn’t need encouragement. And I can’t be held responsible for an addiction she doesn't want to have cured. And you,” Alex pointed at Cade, “what the fuck was that for? Ward Williamson. Really?”

Cade assumed a neutral expression. “I wondered. We haven’t heard his name for years, and suddenlyit’s in every conversation.”

“Ward’sback, alright. But not in a way that would put him on our party list.” Dan took another shot of whiskey. It appeared that he also needed little encouragement to partake in numbing substances.

“Hetweetedto dad, did you know that?”

Cade gave an involuntary burst of laughter. “You’re kidding.”

But Alex wasn’t amused. “And who introduced Ward to social media, anyway? What fucking business does he have posting shit online? Aren’t old farts supposed to be computer illiterate?”

“What did he tweet?”

Alex shook his head. “Nothing concrete. He’s playing with us, with dad. He did mention some long-lost painting of Frank, that’s what sent Father into a tailspin.”

Cade took a small sip on his whiskey and set the almost full glass down.

A drawing, not a painting. Ward, Ward. Playing games again.

“It’s a stupid situation,” Alex was saying. “I can’t get a good sense of what’s going on. Father refuses to discuss the problem, and Ward refuses to have a dialogue with me. Believe me, I tried talking to him.”

“You did? What did he say?” Cade asked, interested.

“I got to listen to a sermon about the priceless nature of family honor, old sins casting long shadows, and treacherous actions coming full circle. It was profound.”

Dan scoffed. “It’s gotta be about money.”

Alex swallowed another drink. “I don’t know about that. Ward has plenty of money andno heirs.”