Page 9 of The Anchor Holds

I rolled my eyes instead of responding to that. Rowan reminded me too much of our father, overprotective of his little girls to the point that they’d think it was a psychotic degree by the time they were in their teens. Eventually, when they saw the nasty realities of being a woman, even in this modern world, they’d realize how appropriate Rowan’s behavior had been. But if he were to follow the blueprint created by our father, the chasm between them would be too big to repair. Not that Nora would let that happen. Or Rowan, for that matter. He had more of an open mind than my father.

“And we have plenty to pay for weddings, colleges, whatever the fuck.” Rowan’s remark jerked me out of my contemplation, his heavy glare indeed reminding me of our father.

“Donotchase up that invoice.” Rowan’s tone brooked no argument, and he had that glowering look on his face that made small children cry. Not his child, though. Whenever he tried toget stern with her, she laughed in his face and resumed whatever it was she’d been doing in the first place. It made me proud.

I was no child, and I hadn’t been scared of my brother since I was two years old. But I also didn’t feel like arguing when I could just do whatever I wanted behind his back without the pageantry.

“Fine.” I held up my hands in mock surrender, doing my best to structure my face into an innocent expression.

“I mean it, Cal.” Rowan eyed me with a practiced gaze. “Donotfollow that shit up.”

“Scouts honor.” I held a hand to my heart. My fingers on my other hand were crossed behind my back.

Rowan paused, weighing my words with skepticism before nodding once.

“I’ve got to get home.” He pushed up his sleeves before rising from his chair. “Nora has an ultrasound appointment.”

I could actually see the frantic energy bubbling inside of him. I got a sick kind of delight out of it. It was almost boyish. With a shadow over it, to be sure, but Rowan was variations of shadow now, with his wife and babies bringing out the sunshine.

It made me want to cry. I might’ve if I did that sort of thing. Which I didn’t. Instead, I smiled with saccharine sweetness. “Oh, I forgot, there’s an alarm inside of you that starts buzzing if you’ve been away from your pregnant wife for too long. Otherwise, you’ll self-destruct.”

Rowan didn’t so much as blink at my comment, not embarrassed or easily riled when it came to me teasing him about his over-the-top behavior as a dad and husband. He was proudly besotted with Nora. Happy. He deserved that. Nora deserved that. Their daughters deserved that. To grow up in a world seeing a strong man as one who was happily brought to his knees by the women in his life.

“You’ll keep your phone on, in case we get any news, need to go to the hospital sooner than we intend?” he asked. Nora was still a month out from her due date, but she was being closely monitored because of her elevated blood pressure, meaning there was a chance she’d have to deliver early.

When I was living in New York, I was there for my other nieces and nephews as much as I could be. I missed births, birthdays, big school events. To satisfy the guilt over my absence, I sent expensive and impractical gifts. I stuffed the kids full of candy on holidays, babysat on the rare occasions I was home, letting them stay up way past their bedtime. I loved them fiercely, but I hadn’t been as present with my sister’s children as I had been with Rowan’s since I’d been in Jupiter. And the rest of the children my friends had popped out.

I didn’t have a maternal bone in my body, but there was not much to do in Jupiter, and people I loved kept popping out babies. Therefore, I was present more. I wondered for a moment whether my sister resented me for that. She was not one to indulge such thoughts, a better woman than me. There had always been a distance between us anyway. She was the mother, the wife, happy and content to be in a small town, running carpool for the rest of her life. I couldn’t think of anything worse. We were different people raised within a few feet of one another. We were as close as we could be. I’d die for her in an instant. Same with all my family and friends.

But none of them were like me. None of them knew the version of me that existed in New York. The villain.

They never would.

Maybe when I died, and my secrets seeped from my body like decaying flesh.

But I planned on burying all my secrets with me, and hopefully, that burial wouldn’t be for a while yet.

“My phone is always on,” I told Rowan in response to his question. “I sleep with it on my pillow next to me. I’ll be there.” It was a promise I would keep. Although I wasn’t maternal, I would be there for my brother, my sister-in-law, my niece, to see something I’d never have … A family of my own.

Rowan nodded once, briefly turning back and pointing at me before he went out the door.

“Donotbother Shaw and Sons, Cal.”

“I get it, I get it. Leave it be.”

I grimaced into my lukewarm coffee after Rowan left. My brother was off his game. Due to being overly in love while managing the chaos that came with having a toddler and a baby on the way. He knew enough to be skeptical about my word but not enough to understand that I was a dog with a bone, and I couldn’t stop until the bone was nothing but dust.

The next day, I was at the registered address of Shaw and Sons, outstanding bill in my hand.

I didn’t keep all of my promises.

Three

Something in the Orange — Zach Bryan

Though Jupiter was a tourist town known for its rugged beaches, quaint stores and Nora’s bakery—which was a tourist destination in and of itself—it was originally a fishing port. The dock was still active, though I’d never visited it. Why would I? I barely went to the beach, even though it was a handful of feet out my back door. As was the sand, the insects and the idiots swimming in the frigid Maine waters, eventually realizing that they couldn’t swim while great white sharks waited to feast on the aforementioned idiots… No thank you.

I had planned on never stepping my well-shod foot on a dock in my life. Yet there I was. I made promises to my brother, yes, but promises were only as good as the person making them. He should’ve known better than that. My promises were worth a lot less than the silk I slept in. And I needed to get my mind off the pressing issue of Jasper Hayes and the ticking time bomb that wasthatsituation—therefore, breaking promises and collecting debts was my distraction.

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