“What’d he go there for? Other than probably to catch a bikini contest or two on the beach,” Dad said with a gritty laugh.
“He needed some time to think,” I said, knowing that Axel would rather not even mention Trace’s name—or his plans—during this conversation. “Something pretty wild happened recently and we need to talk to you about it."
"Well, all right,” Dad said in his slow drawl. “Let’s see if you can shock me.”
That’s what he always wagered:see if you can shock me.Only when we told him we’d bought our first helicopter did he admit that he was surprised. Not even hearing that we’d met the president of the United States shocked him, since he’d claimedAnyone could meetthat old codger during a rally.
This might finally be the thing to shock him.
“Someone named Ian Keller recently showed up at our office building, Dad.” Axel glanced at me, his jaw flexing. “He says he’s our half-brother.”
The silence from the other end of the line stretched long and cavernous.
“You there?” I ventured.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Dad said.
“You know who Ian Keller is?” Axel asked. “Though he goes by Ian Fairchild now.”
“I do,” Dad said.
Axel’s face crumpled, reflecting what I felt in my own body. Part of me had been hoping that it could still turn out to be a scam, even with Trace’s confirmation, the secret he’d held for over a decade, and the fact that Ian’s background checks had been rock solid.
I’d still been foolish enough to hope for a miracle.
“Is what he says true, Dad?” Axel pinched at the bridge of his nose, grimacing. “He says you’re his father.”
A long, resigned sigh escaped our father, and then the phone rustled. “Let me take this damn thing off speakerphone.”
Axel and I exchanged a look. Dad’s soft breaths were all we heard for a minute, then the slamming of a screen door in the background.
“Ian’s not lying,” Dad said in a hushed voice. “I’m just sorry he came all the way to New York to drop it on ya like that.”
“Dad.” I hefted with a despairing laugh. “Were you ever planning on telling us?”
“There’s never been a right time.”
Axel pinched his eyes shut. “What do you know about Ian?”
“He’s a firecracker,” Dad said, sounding sad. “Book smart like Trace, but rougher around the edges. His mother wasn’t doing too well during his school years. I tried to be there for him when I could, but...it was too hard, with the three of ya.”
I swallowed a knot in my throat. “Does Mom know?”
Dad heaved another resigned sigh, and I knew the answer wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Just tell us,” Axel said, pressing his palms together, resting his chin on his fingertips, as if praying for the best.
But didn’t he know better by now? The best was relative. There was only bad and then less bad.
“She don’t know,” Dad hissed. “And I’d like it to stay that way.”
Axel let out a low whistle. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“Axel, there’s no good in telling her about it now,” he said.
“I think there’s plenty good in telling her,” I added, sharing a concerned look with Axel. “This cat is out of the bag. There’s a good chance it will hit the papers eventually. That’s not how she should find out. Trace knew and kept your secret, and if he’d just told us… How could you ask him to do that?”
Dad sighed again. When he spoke, his voice cracked with emotion. “I just wanted to keep everything smooth and stable for y’all. No disruptions.”