Page 16 of Father Knows Best (A Family Affair #1)

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geo

The Truth

“Everything. I told her everything,” I tell Ford, pacing behind my desk, the blinds to the internal office pulled tightly shut. “I didn’t plan on it but I saw her and I just—I don’t know. She wants me to come clean to Sutton tonight. Tell him everything.”

Ford sighs. “You’ve been holding onto it for almost thirty years.

You’ve been Sutton’s boogie man for half your life, brother.

She’s not wrong. You need to tell him.” There’s a pause as I brace one hand against the glass window comprising the entire back wall of my office.

I stare down into the gridlock traffic below, at the tiny people ducking in between cars, riding bicycles, wearing backpacks, holding big coffees.

“Why haven’t you, anyway? He’s clearly read about things online. ”

“Has he ever asked you about it?” I question, though I know the answer. If my son had approached my younger brother at all about what happened all those years ago, Ford would have told me. He’s my best friend.

“No, though he did call me for guidance on his wedding vows the other day,” Ford tells me.

My chest deflates, though it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be surprised.

Sutton has always leaned on my brother as a father figure, and all these years I’ve let him because I thought it was best for Sutton.

I’ve always wanted a relationship with my son, but making him aware of the truth never became so glaringly important until Avery.

He’s going to have his own family one day very soon. It’s time he knows the truth. Avery is right.

“I told him to ask you,” Ford continues in absence of my response.

“I’m going to their house tonight. I’m going to tell him everything.” My voice breaks and I clear my throat. “I don’t want my grandchildren to think I’m a monster.”

Ford’s voice softens. “You don’t want your son to think you are either, Geo. I know why you let him go along with it all these years, but now is the time. You don’t deserve this, you never did. Enough is enough.”

This is what a pep talk from Ford looks like.

And it’s exactly what I need. I bob my head along with his words, steadfast and true, resonating hard.

“Margot was a wonderful mom, but she was a confused, lost soul. You did everything you could to keep her, but some souls, they just, they can’t be kept.

They can’t be tethered to this Earth. And it was awful what happened.

I hold the utmost respect for you for loving Margot so much that you refused to stain her memory, for the sake of your son and his undying love for her.

But he’s thirty-five years old, Geo. He’s no longer a heartbroken child.

He can handle the truth about her. It’s time, for your sake. ”

I let out a hefty sigh as I watch a woman chase a singular piece of garbage down the sidewalk, all the while keeping her cell phone rooted to her ear. “Thanks, brother. Enough with me. How’s it going over there? How’s the new location doing?”

Ford laughs, but not a humorous one. “It’s one thing after the next. Every time I open a new bar, I tell myself it’s the last new bar.” He sighs. “But we’ll get through it.”

“And how is Cade? I didn’t get to chat with him much at the engagement party the other night.” My niece Kat works with me, so I may be more up-to-date on her life out of sheer proximity. My nephew, Ford’s son, the college professor, on the other hand, I hardly see.

“I just got off the phone with him. He’s got a hair across his ass about transitioning one of his classes to an online lecture format.” He pauses a moment, then asks, “How do two of the most easy going men in all of San Francisco have two of the most uptight sons?”

At that, I chuckle. “Kat’s just like you though.”

“That’s true. She is.” He clears his throat. “Actually, you may know this, I’m not sure, but Kat asked me to dinner tonight. She’s bringing her new girlfriend.”

My brows rise. “I did not know she was seeing someone, but she’s been out of the office making so many deals recently, I haven’t seen much of her.”

“Same,” my brother confirms. “But tonight I’m going to meet the new girl. Apparently, it’s already quite serious.”

“Good luck,” I tell him, knowing how critical he is of everyone that dates his daughter. He’d be critical of Cade’s dates too, if he ever dated. “Go easy on her.”

“Good luck to you too and hey—thank Avery for me. Because I’ve been trying to get you to tell Sutton for years.”

We end the call, and I stand behind my desk, staring into downtown in a nervous haze for another twenty minutes before packing up my things and leaving for the day.

I haven’t seen Sutton all day, and I haven’t seen Avery since she left my office hours ago.

She sent me a text message–the first one she’s ever sent me, despite the fact I’ve been programmed into her phone since our first staff meeting.

This text, however, does not come from Mercer’s stager.

This text comes from my future daughter-in-law.

Eight o’clock tonight.

Yes, Sutton knows you’re coming.

I stare at my phone as I wait at a traffic light.

Sutton knows you’re coming. It would be foolish to expect a “Sutton is looking forward to it!” text because he’s not.

I know he’s not. He may even be dreading my visit.

The light turns green and I accelerate, my mind veering to a new set of questions I hadn’t considered just yet.

Does Sutton know why I’m coming over?

Avery is so sweet and genuine, I cannot possibly see her keeping our talk from him.

Around me, Avery has always been the kind of person who does the right thing even when no one is looking, who overtips waitstaff, who picks up another person’s garbage just because she doesn’t want the Earth to suffer, the kind of woman who brought two cakes to my office party last year because she didn’t know which flavor I like and didn’t want to disappoint me.

A person like that does not withhold vital information, but then again, she’s so thoughtful and sensitive, too—I could easily see her explaining to Sutton that we talked, but having the foresight and generosity to allow me to explain things to him.

All of this thought is just something my brain is doing to keep me busy. If I was left with my most primal thoughts–I’d be hitting the road for the hills, going far away from even the mention of having this talk with my son.

Ford thinks I’ve done Sutton a disservice by letting him hate me. But Ford doesn’t remember all the quiet moments of perfection that Sutton and I shared with Margot.

The way he stared up at her in the orange glow from his night light as she sang him “ Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” before bed.

The uproarious laughter that came from the depths of his belly when she chased him, her hands covered in barbecue sauce after a cookout on the lawn.

My brother didn’t know the intimate time the three of us shared, and how perfect our family was in the moments where Margot was content.

Sutton and I may never discuss our past. We may never bring up Margot, and the memories we made before we lost her.

But I know he remembers.

And tonight, by making him see me in a new light, I’m taking those memories from him.

And that single take, the rug pull, that shift in reality is why I’ve always been hesitant.

Fear and inability to communicate my deepest, darkest thoughts, yes, but also, taking the only comfort left from his childhood memories, too.

I don’t want to do it.

I’m here, though, and Margot is not.

And Sutton is going to get married. To Avery.

The sweetest woman he could have possibly met.

She’s perfect for him in all ways, and many of her good qualities remind me of things I liked about Margot, too.

The way she is kind to everyone. Her generosity and acceptance, and I can’t ignore her work ethic.

Margot was the same, determined and hard-working.

All of that is to say that I’m the person their children will know.

I’m the man who will be Papa, who will show up at recitals and t-ball games, who will cheer them on when they’re down, who will be their ear when Mom and Dad are being difficult.

I’m what his future children have, and because of that, they need to know who I am.

That means Sutton needs to know who I am.

After tonight, he will.

Pushups. A hot shower. Sweats. A glass of whiskey. I do everything I can to relax and prepare myself for what I think is going to be an argumentative and tumultuous evening. Sutton’s heart has been hardened to me for so long, I’m not even sure if he’ll believe the truth anymore.

Before I leave, I grab the USB drive from the top drawer in my study, pocket it, and head out.

Sutton purchased a home a few years ago—a large estate in Pacific Heights.

It’s a classic Victorian, redone to modern meets mid-century, and I love it.

I wish I came here more often, but the times I’ve been invited I can count on one hand and still have fingers left up.

I park around back, locking my SUV with the push of a button on my remote. I check to make sure I have my wallet and phone, and when I’m officially out of stall tactics and my stomach is knotted up in nerves, I force myself to the door.

My finger lingers over the doorbell button but I never press it, because Avery answers, wearing a white, wide-legged jumpsuit, the top without straps, hugging her slender body, defining the every curve of her small breasts.

Her blonde hair is damp, like she’s just showered, and her face is free of makeup, blue eyes shining in the faint light.

“Hi. Come on in.”