Gibson (The Brothers Book 1) Page 2

  “No one here will tell you, but you should know,” he murmured and moved us even further away from the crowd.

  “Know what?” I asked, surprised by his choice of word.

  He looked at me for a beat, turned us so my back was toward the gathering, and made a small face as he watched me.

  “Bob’s sleeping with the woman in the red and green dress.”

  “Slee –”

  I stopped speaking, too stunned to go on. Surely he wasn’t serious? My husband, the middle-aged, pot-bellied, balding man who fell asleep on the couch each evening before eight o’clock? The man who hadn’t touched me in well over a year, other than the perfunctory daily goodnight peck on the mouth?

  That man?

  Sleeping with… I turned slowly to glance over at the woman and almost started laughing loudly. She looked like a cheap version of my sister-in-law, which meant she also looked a little bit skanky, albeit not aging. At least, not yet because she was probably ten years younger than me. She also weighed a lot less.

  “You’re joking?” I asked and looked up at Thomas.

  His eyes softened, and he shook his head mutely.

  “You’re sure?” I asked, still not quite ready to believe it.

  He nodded.

  “How long has it been going on?” I asked quietly.

  “I’m not sure, Charlene. A while, I think.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “Okay.” Then I squeezed his hand briefly. “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to take you home?”

  “Did he know she was coming tonight?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, Charlene.”

  I didn’t know if that was a yes or a no, but I was still reeling from the news, so I didn’t ask for clarification and nodded stupidly instead. When Thomas put a hand softly on my shoulder, I raised my head to look at his gentle expression and met eyes that were full of anger on my behalf. A few seconds passed, and the hard ball of ice that had settled in my gut was slowly replaced with fury. My husband of twenty years had let me walk into his sister’s home wearing what literally was a beige tent and with no makeup, knowing his side-piece would be there.

  “Right,” I sighed but added when I saw the look he was aiming at Bob, “I’m fine, Thomas. Really. Thank you for telling me, and you’re right. I should know.”

  He made a small sound of annoyance, but I squeezed his hand, squared my shoulders and turned toward the room with a smile. Then I made my way across the floor toward Bob, smiling cheerfully at everyone but not looking straight at anyone. I studiously kept my eyes far away from the woman in a green satin dress with ugly, bright red flowers because I did not want to start a bigger scene than the one I’d ended up in. I only wanted to escape.

  “Either you come home with me now and pack your bags yourself, or you can pick them up on the front porch tomorrow morning,” I said to Bob, not quietly but not shouting either.

  “What?”

  “You know what.”

  Our eyes met, and when he didn’t say anything, I stretched my hand out, palm up.

  “Car keys,” I said calmly.

  He gave them to me, and I walked away without looking back, leaving him to explain my sudden departure to his sister and the rest of the guests. If there was a need for it.

  Bob came rushing out of his sister’s house just as I was about to start the car, and we rode home in silence. I stopped at the curb outside and turned to him.

  “I’ll be back in an hour. Be gone by then.”

  “Charlene,” he said calmly. “Where do you expect me to go?”

  “I do not give a flying fuck,” I snapped.

  “Char –”

  “Go inside. Pack your bags. Go to a hotel. To your sister. To your skank. I don’t care.”

  I was furious for the first time in years, and it felt good. It felt as if I was waking up from a long period of stumbling drowsily through life.

  “Don’t call her that,” he said.

  “How long have you been doing her?”

  “Ch –”

  “How. Long.”

  “A little over a year. Almost two.”

  I blinked and stared at him.

  “Have we fucked since you met her?”

  God, please make him say no, I thought. Please, please, please don’t make me have to go and get tested for diseases.

  “Fucked,” he snorted. “It’s not like you ever enjoyed it.”

  He was wrong. I had enjoyed it when we first met. The way he fumbled and didn’t quite know what to do had been cute, and I’d loved him. The fumbling hadn’t grown into something else, though, and always feeling like I had to instruct him when I didn’t exactly know myself what we were supposed to do had felt more like a chore than sharing pleasure. I’d realized several years ago that getting myself off when he wasn’t in the room was just easier.

  “Bob,” I snapped. “Do I need to go and get tested for shit?”

  I saw the answer on his face as he stared at me, closed his mouth, and swallowed.

  “Jeanie-Mae doesn’t have –”

  “Go,” I snapped. “You have one hour, and then you have to be gone.”

  He swallowed again but left without another word.

  I spent the hour staring at a milkshake at Mc Donald’s and making plans, but not really coming up with anything that made much sense. Get tested for diseases, yes. Crap, I’d need to find a lawyer. And who would I have to tell about this?

  We never had any children. I had no siblings, and my parents had passed away a few years ago. After years of marriage, I’d lost touch with my girlfriends from college. The people I’d thought were friends to both of us seemed to all have known about his extramarital interests, but not deemed it necessary to tell me. My colleagues were just that.

  I decided to make it easy for myself, opened Facebook and changed my status to single.

  Three months earlier

  Charlene

  I turned around to take one last look at the house where I’d lived most of my adult life. It felt weird to leave, but I wasn’t sad.

  In many ways, I was actually happier than I had been in a long time. My life was changing, and it was scary, but it was also exciting in a way I hadn’t expected.

  Bob had tried to argue that since I was the one who wanted out of the marriage, I should leave and find somewhere else to stay but I hadn’t budged, and after grumbling a little, he moved into his sister’s guest house. She called me to let me know how displeased she was with this and I’d told her to go fuck herself. Marianne wasn’t used to that kind of language from me, so she’d hung up, and I didn’t answer when she called again. It was a relief not to have to deal with her anymore.

  Getting divorced when you didn’t have kids was surprisingly easy, and when Bob suddenly informed me that he wanted to keep the house and everything in it, offering a very fair price for my share, I accepted immediately. Then I went to the office to give my three months’ notice. Lady luck turned out to be firmly on my side because there had been discussions about cutbacks for a while, and when I talked to my boss, he agreed to let me leave earlier.

  So, there I was. Driving away from the suburban street with a smile which might wobble a little, but it was there. I’d promised myself time off from everything, to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

  First stop, Florida. I’d go sit on a beach for a while and watch the waves. Then I’d see.

  One month earlier

  Charlene

  I’d been to the beach in three different states. I’d been to several big cities and spent a lot of time on the road. I’d thought about who I’d become, and who I wanted to be, and I hadn’t figured anything out at all.

  Then one day as I was hauling my bags out to the car, I suddenly knew.

  It was time to go home. Time to go back to the mountains.

  I wouldn’t go to the small town I’d grown up in because I had no real roots
there anymore. Life also had to move forward, and moving back to the town I came from seemed like a step in the wrong direction.

  I made my mind up to find another small town in the Rockies, and I knew a place where I could start the search.

  When I’d walked out of the bar in the ski resort, I’d turned a corner and leaned on the wall for a while, trying to compose myself. The older couple who had sat at our table turned the same corner, and since I apparently looked like I was about to topple over, they asked if I needed help. Perhaps it had been the kindness in the woman’s eyes, or the gruff order from the man to tell them what was wrong, but I started crying. Since I felt like an idiot and hadn’t wanted to explain to them about the comments I’d just heard two gorgeous men make about me, I mumbled something about being unhappy in my marriage.

  I hadn’t been. Not then. Or, maybe I just hadn’t known that I was.

  They had murmured soothing words, and the woman had handed me napkins. When I’d calmed down, the man promptly shared that his brother lived a county away in a small town called Wilhelmine, and he had a cabin which he sometimes rented. He gave me the phone number to his brother Jonah and told me to give him a call if I needed to get away for a while.

  When I was on the road, I called the man, and since he assured me he and his wife would be happy to rent me the small house, I drove until the front range rose up toward the sky in front of me, and kept driving, blurry eyed and weary, until I got there. Jonah and Caroline were friendly. The town looked idyllic. The cabin looked like crap.

  I rented it anyway because the sky was a deep, deep blue, and the air slid down my throat like sweet honey.

  Chapter One

  Present time

  Charlene

  “See you later,” I shouted and waved as the old man drove down the gravel road leading up to the small cabin I’d been staying in for the past month.

  The cabin was old, rickety and in need of a complete demolition, but since Jonah didn’t want to do that it would get a serious make-over. I’d just agreed with him that I would live there for the next year at a ridiculously low cost, and my low-cost deal was because I’d oversee renovations and do some of it myself.

  “Get builders in for the heavy work. Replace what needs to be replaced, slap on some paint. I don’t expect miracles, darlin’,” Jonah said and winked at me. “Caroline and I are just down the road if you need anything.”

  I watched his car disappear, wondering if I’d gone completely insane, and decided that I probably had, but it still felt good. It felt right to stay there under the high sky, with mountains surrounding me and my little home. I did yoga on the back porch each day. Roamed the hills behind the cabin. Read a lot. Breathed.

  After a month, the inactivity had started to wear on me, so I walked back inside and started planning what needed to be done to the place. The bathroom would be my priority, and then my bedroom. No, I decided. Not the bedroom. I’d spent way too much time holed up there in the past few weeks. If the wall between the kitchen and living room wasn’t load bearing, I’d knock it down to bring some light into the cabin. It would also make a nice space to have guests in, although I didn’t actually know anyone in the area, so my opportunities to entertain were highly limited. I’d spent the almost four weeks since I arrived mostly on my own and had only gone to the supermarket on the outskirts of town to fill up my pantry, freezer, and fridge, so I hadn’t really talked to anyone.

  This would have to change, though. Wilhelmine wasn’t anything special, just one of many small towns most people passed by on their way to the resorts for skiing or hiking, but it seemed like a nice place. I’d decided to stay for the next twelve months, so I should make an effort to get to know people.

  My time for feeling sorry for myself was up, I decided. It had gone on far too long, so I’d go grocery shopping, and this time, I’d say more than my usual words of hey and thanks to people. I was ready to start moving on with my life, and for the first time in a very long time, I also felt a little lonely.

  I changed into a clean pair of jeans and was tightening the belt around my hips when I noticed that I would have to put another hole in it. I’d no clue how much weight I’d lost in lost in the past six months, but it was a lot. Soul-searching, albeit without much result, was apparently the best diet I could have been on and doing yoga daily had helped tone my body into a shape it hadn’t been in since I was a teenager, if even then. I still stopped in front of the mirrors sometimes and just stared at my flat stomach and the muscles in my arms. My hair had grown until it reached my shoulders and the sun had put streaks in it, making it a pale golden color that I really liked. I wished I had more of a tan, but it was summer so I’d work on getting one.

  When I’d loaded the groceries into my car, I did not turn back toward my cabin like I usually did. Instead, I turned the other way and drove along Main Street until I found an empty parking spot. There was a small diner right in front of me, with a big sign that said, “Jenny’s” in simple red letters. Something smelled delicious, and I decided to start my exploration of the town by getting something to eat.

  The bell above the door jingled when I entered the diner, and I stopped to look around. The place looked nice, and I liked the way someone had decided to keep the old-style diner atmosphere even though it clearly had been upgraded over the years. The walls were full of photographs and old posters, and there were a few tables with chairs, mismatched in a way that was charming, which also meant it was deliberately done. Four booths lined the window facing the street, and everything looked squeaky clean. The place was half full, and I smiled at the other customers as I made my way to the long counter where a young girl was sorting through menus. There were cupcakes on display, and a quick glance revealed that frosting seemed to have been slabbed onto them with a liberal hand, or quite possibly a shovel. My mother had run the bakery in our hometown and I’d grown up helping her out. I had always loved frosting, so I decided that it would be entirely suitable to celebrate my decision to stay in the cabin by bringing some cupcakes home with me.

  Someone was suddenly wailing loudly from somewhere in the back, and my eyes flew to the young girl whose name according to the tag on her chest was Mae. She bit her lip and made a small face.

  “Joanie left.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled, wondering if I was supposed to understand what this meant.

  The girl must have seen the confusion on my face because she added, “Maddie had ordered a cake.”

  I blinked.

  “Okay?” I repeated, making it more of a question.

  “Joanie was a part-timer, just like me. She was good at decorating cakes, but Day left, and I guess she didn’t want to hang around after that. She must have split during the night. All her stuff is gone and she with it.”

  None of this made much sense to me, except the fact that their main cake-decorateur had gone awol, which probably explained the frosting on the cupcakes.

  “That’s too bad,” I said slowly. “What kind of cake did, um, Maddie order?”

  “She promised her girl a birthday cake with a princess on it. Not gonna happen.”

  “Not gonna happen,” I echoed.

  “Jenny’s the best cook in the county, but she can’t decorate a cake worth shit.” She bit her lip again, and added, “Sorry. But she’s not good at it.”

  She made a small movement with her hand, indicating the cupcakes and since these were irrefutable proof of incompetence in the decoration area, I grinned at her and decided to step into the mess to see if I could help out. This would be my home for the next a year, so I might as well start making friends.

  “I decorate a mean cake,” I told her. “I can give it a try.”

  Then I closed my mouth, wondering what the hell I was thinking. I hadn’t actually done anything like it in years, and I might have been good at that sort of thing a long time ago, but I might have forgotten. Also, surely the unknown Jenny wouldn’t want a complete stranger to b
arge in and spread frosting.

  “Jenny!” the girl bellowed. “There’s a lady out here who can decorate cakes.”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic,” a female voice bellowed back. “Send her back.”

  I blinked. Apparently, the unknown Jenny did want a complete stranger to barge in and spread frosting.

  The girl motioned with her hand again, this time toward an opening to what I assumed was the kitchen, and I stared at it for a beat.

  “Alrighty,” I said and moved.

  A girl at least twenty years younger than me was sobbing uncontrollably as she looked at a white cake with a very strange decoration. They had used store bought frosting in various shades of pink and purple to create something which I assumed was meant to be the aforementioned princess, but it looked more like a troll. Or a unicorn. Or a pile of dog-poo.

  A woman my age was also looking at the cake, with a scowl on her face that made me wonder if the cake-business wasn’t just a tad bit more important in this town than I’d realized.

  “Hey,” I said apprehensively.

  “Can you do better than that?” the older woman asked and turned the scowl toward me.

  “Well, yeah,” I said because surely anyone with more than two fingers could do better than what was in front of us.

  “I’m Jenny. Salvage what you can of the cake and dinner is on the house.”

  “I’m Charlene, and I’ll do my best,” I said, surveying the equipment available as I started opening tubs of frosting.

  Then I set about fixing the cake in a way I hoped a little girl would appreciate and even more, in a way which would impress the pretty damned scary woman called Jenny.

  I scraped off everything that had been done and started from scratch by covering the cake with a thin layer of pink frosting.

  “Weren’t these okay?” I asked and looked at two ready-made sheets of marzipan with princesses on them. A bigger Cinderella on one and a smaller Snow White surrounded by several dwarves on the other.

  “They’re too small,” Jenny said between clenched teeth, and I could see that they were indeed smaller than the cake.