Page 98 of Show Off

“A shitty thing to do,” Coop agrees. “Does he get any points for having his heart in the right place?”

“No.” Except maybe a little. “You guys, I’m so tired of people thinking I’m too young and too fluffy to run my own life.”

Dean frowns. “Who thinks that?”

“Everyone!” I gesture at them and then sigh. “I mean, you treat me like I’m competent. I’m not saying you just humor me by putting me in charge of PR.”

“Lana, you’re the best there is.” Lauren’s eyes narrow. “Is there something that made you think we don’t trust you?”

“It’s not that.” I sniffle again. “At what point can I stop being the baby?”

Gabe looks at Mari. Coop looks at Dean. Gabe looks at Lauren.

Then they all look at me. “Never,” Lauren says, speaking for all of them. “For as long as you live, you’ll be our baby sister.”

“Always,” Coop agrees, hooking an arm around me. “And without you,I’dbe the baby.”

“Thanks a lot.” I laugh and slug him in his stupid six-pack abs. “I just—I want to know you trust me to run my own life.”

“Of course we do.” Gabe looks mystified. “As much as any of us are capable of that.”

“Weallneed each other.” Mari’s smile shifts to sympathy. “I get it, though. You’re saying you want us to treat you more like a grownup.”

“Sometimes.” It seems silly admitting that out loud. “I guess there’s one very grownup thing I’ve been avoiding.”

Dean cocks his head. “What’s that?”

Drawing a breath, I squeeze my eyes shut. “I need to talk to Dad.”

* * *

I findhim on the golf course, naturally. Laurence Judson never misses a chance to play Golden Ridge when he visits this part of Oregon.

“Hey, Dad.”

My father looks up and smiles. “Hey, Lemon Drop.” When he hugs me, he smells like leather and cognac and nostalgia. “What brings you out here?”

Tears fill my eyes as I step back. “I take it you haven’t seen the Jamila Jarrett show.”

He frowns. “Was that today? Your mother mentioned something about?—”

“I’m not biologically your child.” I thought blurting it fast might help, but it doesn’t. With my eyes squeezed shut, I can’t see his reaction. “We’ve never talked about it, but Mom says you know, and I’ve known since fourth grade, and it always felt weird that we didn’t talk about it.”

I open my eyes to see my father watching me. “So we should,” I conclude, pulling up my big girl panties. “Talk about it, I mean.”

With love in his eyes, my father rests a hand on my shoulder. A caddy approaches, but Dad waves him away. “Give us a minute,” he says, and the kid scampers off.

“Lemon Drop?”

My heart twists as I meet his eyes. “Yeah?”

“You have always been my daughter.” The voice that’s graced a million TV interviews rolls over me like a warm wave. “No less than your brothers and sisters. Nothing on earth could change that.”

I swallow hard, hardly daring to breathe. “But it’s not the same, is it?” We’re getting into dicey territory, but there’s no going back now. I have to do this. “Knowing how I came to be? That you and Mom didn’t, um?—”

“Your mother and I have a strong marriage.” He must see something in my face because he smiles a little. “Is it conventional? Of course not. Have there been betrayals on both sides? Yes. Yes, there have. Do we have regrets?” He sighs a little sadly. “Who doesn’t, Lemon Drop? Who doesn’t?”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I swallow hard and force myself to keep going. He’s unknowingly nicked my fresh wound. “Some betrayals feel too big to forgive.”

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