Page 39 of Caught in Us
“You and Mom aren’t fighting, are you?” Ricky frowns. “She promised to be on her best behavior.”
I open my mouth, not exactly sure how to respond. Our mom turned in after dinner, claiming exhaustion, but I saw her grab a full bottle of gin when she left the dining room. I don’t think I’ve seen her without a drink in all the time I’ve been home. She was always a social drinker, but this blatant overindulgence is something else entirely.
“Did you tell her?” Eddie interrupts, coming back outside and pulling out a chair next to Ricky before handing him a bottle of beer.
Ricky shoots our brother a glare. “I was waiting for you.”
“Tell me what?” I straighten in my seat.
Ricky shares another look with Eddie before turning his attention on me. “We need to talk.”
“About Mom?” I lean forward in my chair, resting my forearms against the table. “Because I’m really concerned for her mental health.”
“Alicia. Mom’s fine.” Eddie’s tone is thick with irritation. “This is . . . it’s . . .”
Ricky sighs. “It’s about our sister.”
“Our—?”I can’t even say it. In fact, it shocks me how easily they use the wordsisterto refer to a total stranger—a secret I’d been holding for years—and someone they didn’t even know existed until after Dad’s stroke.
“Look, I know you’re only here a few more days, but there are some things we need to work out.” Ricky takes a sip of his beer, but holds my stare.
“What?” I’m confused. He runs the family business with Eddie. What do they need me for? I don’t even have full access to my trust fund. Not until I turn thirty.
“After everything with Dad, we want to make sure she’s taken care of.” Eddie taps his finger along the side of his bottle, rocking back in his chair. “Move some money around. Make sure it’s distributed fairly.”
What they’re getting at finally hits me. “You want to re-organize the trust?My trust.”
“She’s family. Blood.” Ricky holds my stare. “It’s what Dad would have wanted.”
“How do you know that?” Defensiveness prickles my spine. I’m blindsided by this request because it doesn’t seem I have a choice. They’ve already decided what’s best without my input. It’s the same crap our parents used to pull. They’re just like Dad. “What if she’s not a good person? We don’t know why Dad hid her away. And we can’t even fucking ask him!”
“Alicia,” Ricky chastises.
“There’s no reason to get upset.” Eddie holds up his hands. “Calm down.”
I shake my head, hating the judgment in their faces. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Ricky rubs his temples, blinking with annoyance.
“Like I’m the one being irrational here!” I hate that my voice gets pitchy and that my hands shake. That they appear so nonchalant while I’m clearly upset.
“Look, we all know why Dad hid Lucía away,” Eddie says, his head tilting toward the door. “He loved Mom, and wouldn’t have done anything to upset her.”
Except have an affair, and a child in another country. The irony isn’t lost on me, but what’s most upsetting is how Eddie refers to my father’s love in the past tense. Daddy might not be able to speak, but he’s not dead.
“So, what?” It’s not that I can’t raise Matthew on my own, but having those extra funds provides me peace of mind. It’s made it possible for me to pursue my doctorate degree. “We’re supposed to give this woman who claims to share our blood half of my inheritance?”
“A third.” Ricky states flatly. “We’re doing the same with ours.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
Ricky exhales, his sigh radiating his disappointment. “Then you’re not the person I thought you were.” He takes another sip from his beer and shrugs. “Look, we can’t make you sign a damn thing. But promise me you’ll at least think about it before you go back. We have an appointment with the lawyers on Monday. It’ll be simple and easy.”
Silence settles around us, the chirp of crickets the only sound to fill the space. I don’t want to give in, but my anger has just as much to do with them as it does my father. I hate that he left us with this mess. That we can’t confront him and demand answers. Instead, he’s destined to a life of silence while we pick up the pieces. It’s unfair. I hate him. Because I still love him. I miss him too.
“Okay.” My indignation deflates under my brothers’ disheartened stares. “I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” Ricky sighs and takes another sip from his beer.
