Page 54 of Collateral Damage
“I want you to be extra cordial today,” our father says to us like we’re at work, about to give a presentation. His posture is rigid as he looks me and my brother over. “No hiding. I mean it. You’re grown men, and you’ll need to act like it. Do it for your mother’s sake.”
“I don’t think she cares how we act anymore,” I mutter.
Ethan’s mouth thins as he glares at our father. “Why wouldn’t I be cordial?”
They share a charged look—one I can’t read. That’s not like them. There’s something going on they’re not telling me about, a secret context growing underneath the moment, but I’m too exhausted to root it out.
“Don’t start with me, Ethan.” Conrad sighs. “We’ve already discussed it, and now is not the time. I’ll deal with it when I’m ready.”
“What are you two on about?” Do I even care? My grief certainly doesn’t, but my curiosity says otherwise.
“None of your business,” Dad replies, and Ethan laughs bitterly but doesn’t say anything.
It pisses me off.
Maybe I shouldn’t be angry at the only family I have on the day of my mother’s funeral, but this is bullshit. I’m sick of being the third wheel.
“Tell me,” I demand, looking at Ethan this time. We don’t keep secrets; he knows that.
“Except for when we do,”a little voice in my mind whispers.
“I’ll tell you later,” Ethan mutters.
“Ethan,” our father says sternly, “we talked about this. Letmehandle it.”
The car stops in front of the Laurence’s historic building, and Ethan tears out of it, leaving the door wide open as he stomps away. I jump out after him, and my father is quick on my heels. He grabs my bicep, stopping me.
“Let it go, Cooper,” he demands. “This is not the time for drama.”
I turn on him, anger rushing through my veins. “Last I checked, I was part of this family.”
“I’m telling you to let this one go.”
“Or what?” I growl.
He pauses, taking me in, then finally nods. “Later.” He suddenly looks so old and defeated, I almost don’t recognize him. “Trust me on this, Coop. Not today. Okay? Not. This. Day.”
He drops my arm and heads inside.
I want to be angry, his words taking me right back to the day we got Mom’s cancer diagnosis that they were clearly trying to keep from us, but then I take a breath and remember Mom. She wouldn’t want us fighting at her wake.
The next hour goes exactly as expected. The caterers serve a light buffet lunch and drinks, and the people closest to Mom mingle and mourn. It’s a sea of black dresses and suits. Sybil is glued to Ethan’s side, so I leave them be, though I can’t help but notice the far-off angry sheen in his eyes.
I end up in my usual spot between Sybil’s brothers. They’re good kids. Talking to them helps keep my mind busy. Hayes is fifteen and going into high school, and the kid is athletic as hell, so he’s got big plans for varsity sports.
Chandler is eighteen and got admitted into a collegiate professional development program for kids with cognitive disabilities. His excitement is as endearing as it is infectious. I love this kid—I wish I could be that excited about anything in my life.
A raised voice catches my attention, and I’m shaken from my haze.
This is not a voice I’m used to hearing in any other way but calm and collected. It’s not my father’s voice. It’s not Ethan.
It’s Gregory Laurence. My gaze shoots across the room to where Sybil and Ethan stand next to Sybil’s father. She drops Ethan’s hand and recoils, her face going white.
Hayes and I clock the incident at the same time.
Something is very, very wrong.
Twenty-Four
