“He has done well for himself, and that’s all that matters. And I expect each of you, especially Finley who’s most definitely destroying the game room, to thank him personally for letting you stay here and pay for your roundtrip flights.”

“What does he do for a living?” Alan asks, looking out over the horizon with a beer in hand. It’s not even noon, but I’m questioning if I want one as well. I need to get these nerves ahold of before I make a fool of myself in front of Cynthia. I do want to try to keep the peace, for Dad’s sake, but damn, the anger that’s swirling inside is something I just can’t ignore.

As if Alan sees my desperation, he grabs a beer from the six-pack he has opened next to him and hands it over. I crack it and nearly chug it in five gulps. Everyone watches me but doesn’t say a word.

“He owns some sort of security company. I’m not too sure,” Dad says, eyeing me with uncertainty.

We hear a door open and shut from inside the home, and Dad lights up for the first time since Mom died. He turns and ushers us inside the house with waving hands, but not before giving me a look that tells me to be on my best behavior.

Cynthia stands at the entry with luggage in hand. She’s tall, slim with long blonde hair and tanned skin. Her bags are designer, and I’m sure her clothing is, as well. She wears a light pair of flowing pants and a yellow shirt that dips low on her chest, revealing the white bikini beneath. She’s beautiful, and when she sees Dad, her expression brightens instantly. Dad greets her with a warm hug and a kiss, and when their lips meet, I turn away. I swallow the lump in my throat and clear it, causing them to break away.

Cynthia turns toward us and smiles, but her eyes dart between us with curiosity.

“Cynthia, these are my daughters Andrea and Victoria. This is Tori’s husband, Alan. And their boy, my grandson Finley, is making use of the game room.”

As if on cue, small feet sound from the hallway, and soon comes the terror. A lanky sandy-haired boy growing into his awkward legs jumps into the room, bounces on his feet, and waves to the woman with enough excitement for the both of us.

“Are you my new grandma?” He asks with a wide smile.

Silence.

The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Cynthia just laughs and opens her arms, and Fin quickly falls into her hug like he used to with Mom.

“You can call me whatever you want, Finley,” she says, smiling down at him. She makes her way to everyone, offering hugs and warm greetings, and when she reaches me, she gives me a once-over.

“Lots of tattoos, huh?” She says with her smile straining. I look down at myself, dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, revealing quite a few black and grey tattoos across my skin.

“Cynthia—” Dad starts, but she waves him away with a manicured hand.

“It’s just an observation. Reid is the same way. From what your dad says about you, Reid and you will get along well.” She hugs me and I try to relax my body, so I don’t feel as stiff as a corpse. She gives me a final squeeze before letting me go.

“How do you guys like the home? Fancy, huh? I tried to convince him to go bigger, but he’s modest.” As Cynthia talks, Dad grabs her bags and disappears down the hall to their room, leaving us with his new wife.

She walks to the kitchen and grabs a wine glass and a bottle from a cabinet, her gold bangles clacking on her wrists in the silence. “I think we should celebrate. I know we got married fast and the wedding was…private, but I still want to share a cheers with my new kids.”

Fire burns inside my gut. “We aren’t—” Tori nudges my side sharply with her elbow and I glare at her.

“We would love that,” Tori says with her award-winning smile. She flicks her blonde hair behind her shoulder and grabs a glass that Cynthia poured the blood-red wine into.

“Ew, alcohol.” Fin turns up his nose to us and I chuckle. “I’m gonna go back to playing!” He announces as he turns on his feet and races back down the hall, his arms straight behind him as if the aerodynamics help his speed.

“When will Reid be here?” Tori asks.

“Probably tomorrow morning. He has some things to finish up first before coming here. He works way too hard.”

“You wouldn’t be able to enjoy his home if he didn’t,” I point out as I grab a glass for myself. I twirl the wine in the glass, stick my nose in, and inhale as if I know the difference between expensive and cheap wine.

It smells like…wine.

Cynthia gives me a look but smiles nonetheless as she holds her glass between us, and we follow suit, clinking the fine crystals together in the center of the island.

“Cheers, to a new family!”