Page 41 of Just a Plot Twist (Tate Brothers #7)
Benson
The clapping from the crowd is light. On any autumn Friday night in Longdale, you’ll get a huge crowd vying for blood at the high school football games. Football: the sacred rite of small towns everywhere.
But tonight? It’s not fall. It’s only the end of a two-week spring camp, and we’re here to support Alec in the team scrimmage.
Still, it’s the first football my family and I have been able to watch since the Super Bowl in February, so we’re soaking it up.
Thomas, my brothers, and I are all here.
And I brought Cinnamon along. My brothers’ wives, as diehard as they are during the regular season, had other commitments.
Except for Oakley, who’s on the bench with the team, offering her services as a physical therapist and keeping Alec from getting a little too passionate when one of his running backs drops the ball .
There aren’t many people here, and it’s just as well. I’m not in a sociable mood.
Thomas, who’s been on the sidelines on his phone, pockets it and climbs to the top row of bleachers.
I belong here, as strange as that sounds. I like feeling that way, but it doesn’t change the sense of doom I have about the last time Claire and I spoke.
Thomas lets himself down heavily next to me on the bench. “The injunction went through. Judge granted it a few minutes ago,” he says quietly, and already there’s a softening in his back and shoulders. He shoots out a breath. “Peter can finally be stopped.”
“Does that mean that he can’t start his own business now?”
Thomas gives a curt nod. “There are loopholes, but it looks like it’ll hold. Legally, he has to wait a year before branching off. But if his daughter redoes the paperwork, there’s nothing stopping her from owning the business herself.”
I blow out an easy breath. “Even with the possible loopholes, it’s what we were hoping for. Congratulations, Thomas. I’m sorry it had to happen the way it did, but you can protect the company from further damage.”
He gives me something of a smile. “Thanks, Benson. We’ll recover. We always do.”
The Tates do always recover, but the toll that losing a close friend might take on Thomas is yet to be seen.
Several members of the community approach the family during a timeout. May as well pay attention to them instead of the impassioned Alec giving his players a talking to.
Thomas’s phone rings again and he stands and moves away to answer it .
Oliver introduces me to Dora Slater, a member of the community and one of the many who’ve known my brothers since they were kids coming here to Longdale in the summers.
She reminds me of one of the Golden Girls.
“Your father made a contribution to the trailways initiative,” she says to Oliver, her eyes wide. “Is he a fan of Longdale?”
“It’s growing on him,” Gabriel says.
I thought he’d rescinded it, but I’m not about to ask Dora.
“I didn’t know about a contribution,” Sebastian says, looking around at the rest of the brothers. “He probably doesn’t want that spread around.”
“Oh, Sebastian, I haven’t,” Dora chides. “You think I’m a big gossip, but I’ve changed my ways, I swear.” She’s protesting too much.
She hasn’t changed her ways.
“How are things going for you, Dora?” Milo asks.
“Milo, I should be asking you that. It’s nice you’re back in town for a bit. And you, Benson. When are you going to move to Longdale? With everybody here—Milo’s promised he’ll come back as soon as Rose finishes school—you should join in. It’s fun here!”
My mind goes to Claire. I might like being here, if it means I can be near Claire. We could hike all the trails, I could help her with her project, and it’s not that far away from Highlands Ranch and the kids.
Things were tense the last time we spoke, though, an unease I’ve never experienced with her before. I ache to see her and make things right.
I swallow at the memory. And the distance between us brings up a lot of old, standby feelings.
Memories of Danica leaving. The chill between us. The panic of watching her shrivel away from our marriage right before my eyes and my being ridiculously powerless to stop it .
Things aren’t the same with Claire and me but try telling that to my racing heartrate and lump in my throat.
Before I can answer Dora, another woman joins her. “Did you ask them?”
Dora frowns, giving a light push against her shoulder. “I’m not going to ask them that. It’s too personal.”
“Inappropriately personal questions from you, Dora?” Henry teases with mock surprise, and because it’s Henry and more teasing than we usually see from him, we all laugh.
“Some are wondering about the sizable donations from the Tates for our trails here in town,” the friend says ruefully. She looks at me. “It’s strange since you’re dating Claire Lawson. I thought these things needed to stay separate. Church and state?”
“It’s not church and state, Salome!” Dora cries. “That’s not right at all.”
Oh boy. What are we into now? “That donation was from Thomas and Celine. Not me.”
“Well, it’s a conflict of interest,” Salome says.
Dora glares at her. “It’s not a big deal.” Her tone is sharp. “Besides, things with Benson and Claire are new and we don’t want to insert ourselves where we shouldn’t.”
I manage a smile. “Claire’s great. We all wish her nothing but the biggest success on the trailways project.”
Which may or may not still have a large donation from Foundations.
Thankfully, Oliver changes the subject, asking Salome and Dora about their families and jobs.
I had an ulterior motive for coming tonight, I guess. Besides getting to watch the game I love, I want to be nearer to the woman I love .
I love Claire. And I’m pretty sure she loves me, too, but there’s an uncertainty between us now, and it doesn’t sit right with me.
And all this talk about conflicts of interest and the town knowing my business about who I’m seeing—about who I’m in love with?
It’s a lot.
The scrimmage ends and Alec’s team loses by a field goal. My brothers and Thomas, who rejoined for the last minute of the game, try to talk me into enjoying a late meal.
I decline. Cinnamon needs to get home. Besides, Indie is supposed to call tonight to tell me how her audition for an elite piano class went. All of this means I’m a bundle of nerves.
Mrs. Lambert, ever lurking, knocks on my door a minute after I close it.
She greets me warmly, her blueish cloud of hair especially fluffy. “Finally made it back this morning.”
I invite her to have a seat on the sofa near the window and I take the easy chair across from her. “How’s the granddaughter?”
“I miss her already. I wish they’d move back to our area.”
“How was the struggling son-in-law when you left? Parenthood is no joke.”
She puts a hand on her heart. “He grew leaps and bounds under my tutelage. He was swaddling even better than my daughter by the end!”
“That’s good to hear.”
“How’s Cinnamon?” she asks, a big smile brightening her face. Her glance goes past my shoulder. “Where is she?”
“She’s out in the back. We had a long drive back from Longdale tonight.”
“Well, it’s late and I won’t keep you.” She pats her knees. “Good news is, I got a message from Reggie’s grandson when I got home. He says they’ve moved apartments to one that’s dog friendly and can take Cinnamon now. They’re interested in picking her up tomorrow!”
I swallow down the ball in my throat. “Tomorrow?”
“They’re grateful for your help and so am I! Thanks, Benson.” Her lips turn down. “I hope your children won’t miss her too badly.”
They’re going to be devastated.
And in a surprise turn of events, I might be, too.
The immediate response in my brain is to start scheming about something, anything, I might be able to do to mitigate.
Maybe they’ll take money to let us keep her?
What kind of crazy thinking is that, though? She’s the worst possible dog for our family. She needs way too much care for us to manage properly. We can’t.
But I sorta want to try.
Maybe if I can show them that she’s well off here with me and my kids and Claire, that will convince them to let us keep her.
The melancholy of missing Claire and the dread of having to give up Cinnamon hits me hard.
There it goes again, the emptiness from so much loss. It’s an avalanche of white-hot pain.
And the only thing I think to do is run from it.