Family Skeletons (26 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

As they stood atop the bluff overlooking the ocean,
Sunny held on to Matthew’s arm for support while she lowered herself onto one
knee. Then she settled on the ground with that leg crossed under her and the
wounded one positioned with the knee bent. They’d remained at the top of the
cliff instead of descending to the beach because she’d promised the doctor
she’d stay out of the sandbox until her leg healed.

She’d been living in sweats for three days. She’d
been told to wear what she wanted to, as long as she kept the leg clean, but
Jonathan was back in mother hen mode. He didn’t want her injury exposed to the
tiniest chance of infection, which meant air, sun, light, sheets...

At first she’d resisted, but by the third or fourth
or fifth argument she’d concluded the only way to save her sanity was to humor
him. Ryan had said nothing, simply watched and listened to them with a bland
manner that Sunny had found irritating. Anyway, shorts were out, the legs of
her jeans were too tight around the bandage, so...

She was getting awfully tired of sweatpants. She
even had to sleep in the stupid things.

Once she was settled, Matthew sat next to her and
wrapped his arms around his knees. His face was strained as he kept his gaze on
the ocean. It had been like pulling teeth to get him to take this walk with
her.

Matthew and Jonathan had prepared a bedroom for
Matthew at the old Victorian, getting everything the teenager needed from his
residence behind the store in one trip. He’d been given the choice of upstairs
or downstairs, and he’d chosen a room near the kitchen. He’d been doing some of
the cooking, keeping the meals simple, but he managed it so effortlessly that
Sunny suspected he was a better cook than she was. She wondered if the feel for
cooking was a legacy from their father.

“We need to talk,” she said.

He nodded without looking at her. His Adam’s apple
was prominent.

“If it’s agreeable with you,” she said, “I want to
petition the court for legal guardianship.”

He was silent. With the feeling she was fighting her
way uphill while standing in place, she went on. “I have to look for another
place, in San Francisco, and I’ll find one big enough for both of us that’s in
a good school district. But that means you’d be starting all over again in a
new school. What do you think about that?”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “I don’t have any
ties here. Not really. Maybe I’d be better off getting away from everything and
starting all over.”

She took in a long breath, hoping her relief that
he’d finally spoken wasn’t too evident, and that her lack of confidence wasn’t
overly obvious. She’d talked this over with everybody but Matthew, yet his
concurrence was the most important. “Good. I’ll need time to set everything up.
Mavis and Tom want you to stay with them until I get it rolling, and that will
give you some transition time. Will that work for you?”

His head bobbed as he kept his gaze on the horizon.
“They’re good people.”

“We’ll need help, all kinds of legal help, in
dealing with the store and its inventory. That’s a biggie, but we can do it.
And Roberta will help, if that’s all right with you. She’s got a good business
mind.”

Again he nodded, but said nothing.

“Whatever gain is realized from the sale of the
store, and that’s left after your mother’s legal expenses, should go toward
your education. That’s what she wanted, too. She’d told me so.”

Still he remained silent. His gaze hadn’t left the
ocean, but she wondered if he really saw it.

“College is right around the corner,” she continued.
“But it shouldn’t be a problem, not financially. Corday Cove belongs to you as
much as it does to me. Jonathan and I got in a couple minutes of discussion
about this, and I think it’s going to be a three-way split, but the least
you’ll have is half of mine. The only stipulation is that it goes toward your
education first, then into a trust fund until you’re twenty-five.”

He looked at the ground, then his eyes squinched
shut. “Sunny, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t. I’m doing it because I want to and because
it’s right.”

Sunny had been of two minds regarding the age
stipulation. If she’d had any real money before she was twenty, she would’ve
blown every cent of it, yet she suspected Matthew was smarter than that.
Jonathan had leaned toward the age requirement, however, so she’d gone along
with it.

Matthew’s face turned away, to where she now saw
more of the back of his head than his profile. Silence stretched. Then she said
quietly, “We need to get to know each other. We need to find out what works and
what doesn’t. And we need to be honest. If we can do that, everything else will
fall into place. And the truth is that I want to make the familial bond between
us legal. If that’s what you want also, that’s where we’ll start.”

Matthew, help me out. Please. In a lot
of ways you’re more mature than I am. I don’t just need your cooperation, I
need your help.

“Well?” she prompted. “Shall we get this ball
rolling? Shall we go for it?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

* * *

“Thanks, Sunny,” Mavis said as she accepted the can
of beer. It was Sunday, a busy day in the real estate game, but she’d refused
to work.

“If I don’t deserve a day off today, I’ll never
deserve one,” she’d said when climbing down from her husband’s four-wheeler.
With one foot on the ground and the other one still on the truck’s runner,
she’d given her hostess a pained look with some heavy aggravation in it. “‘We
found the owner of the bloody bat.’ The mother of all messages.”

Because it appeared a peace offering might be in
order, Sunny had gone after the can of beer.

Settling in the lawn chair, wearing khaki shorts
that exposed slightly veined but still shapely legs, Mavis popped the top and
took a long slug. “Umm. High society can have their champagne. I’ve got a
weakness for beer. It’d be better with a cigarette, of course, but it’s still
good.”

Sunny stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles.
Unable to endure the lackluster gray sweats a day longer, she’d bought a
bright-red pair, and in response to the warm day she wore a skimpy white tank
top over the pants. “By the way, thanks for taking Matthew to see Bev. He seems
more at ease now.”

“Good. When he told her he was staying with you, she
gave him a hard look and then directed it at me. But she didn’t argue.”

They sat in the shade of the eucalyptus, watching
the men work. The yard resembled a community car wash. The Reviler had been
finished and returned to the front, and Tom had been invited to drive his truck
around to the back. Matthew was hosing it down for him. Ryan stood on the
sidelines, nursing his wound and enjoying his role of supervisor.

“You missed a spot there, Tom.”

“You’re missing more than that, Ryan.”

Sunny giggled. “One can shy of a six-pack, maybe?”

Executing an excellent parody of a slow burn, Ryan
turned to look at Sunny. She held her soda pop can up.

Mavis chuckled. “You seem to be holding up okay.”

Sunny echoed the laugh. “I guess. I feel punchy, to
tell the truth. And rummy. Like my head’s not on straight yet. Roberta is
working on the legal end of things, I’m glad. She’s got the mind for that. I
never did, even at the best of times.”

“When are you heading for home?”

“In another couple of days Ryan should be up to it.
That’s why I want Matthew to go home with you today. Give him some time with
you and Tom before I clear out. For his sake and yours.” She hesitated. “And
mine. I just want to, well, make sure he’s okay? I don’t know how to explain
it.”

Mavis smiled her understanding.

Then Sunny changed the subject. “I don’t know how he
wrangled it, but Jonathan got this coming week off, too. It’s going to seem
strange leaving him here on his own, instead of the other way around.”

Mavis gave her a surprised sideways glance.
“Jonathan only has one more week? I thought...” Then the surprise she must’ve
seen on Sunny’s face induced Mavis into silence.

“You thought what?” Sunny prompted.

“Well, he told me he didn’t want to put the house on
the market after all.” Mavis spoke slowly, as if feeling her way. “He’s been
asking around about contractors, and...” She rolled her eyes and looked at the
car washers. “Oh, hell. Me and my big mouth. When am I going to learn to keep
it shut?”

You and your big mouth, and him and his
closed one.

Sunny sat back and stared straight ahead.

So, okay, Jonathan. What’s with the
contractors, and how come I’m in the dark here?

Sunny kept her cool for the rest of the day, not
barging up to Jonathan like she wanted to and demanding answers. Not because of
him, herself, or social niceties, but because of Matthew. She kept her
misgivings to herself through dinner, maintaining an easy manner that even
fooled Ryan. After seeing Tom and Mavis and Matthew off, Sunny sat out on the
back porch by herself.

This isn’t good, Sunny. When you keep
things to yourself, you explode.

Eventually Jonathan joined her. “I was wondering
what happened to you.” Instead of sitting down, he crossed to the screen and
watched the fast-disappearing sun. “It’s getting chilly out here. Are you ready
to come inside?”

“I’m fine.”

He glanced at her. “Sounds like there’s more chill
to you than there is in the air. What’s wrong?”

“Is there something about not selling the house that
you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh.” He frowned. “I should’ve realized that—”

“Yes, you should have.”

“—Mavis might mention it. I hadn’t thought to tell
her—”

“To keep it to herself?”

He gave her a level look. “Yes. Until I got a chance
to talk to you.”

Elaborately she looked around the porch. “It’s just
you and me right now. Go for it, Jonathan.”

After a long silence, he asked quietly, “Am I on
trial, Sunny?”

With her gaze fixed steadily on him, she enunciated
precisely, “Let’s not...get off...the subject. What, exactly, are your plans
regarding the house?”

He waited another long moment, matching her stare,
and then he crossed the porch and opened the door leading into the kitchen.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be more receptive and less
contentious in the morning.”

“Contentious, hell!” She jumped up and slammed the
door closed. “We’ll damn well talk about it now.”

“Don’t swear. I don’t like it when you—”

“And I don’t like not being consulted about a major
decision like this.”

“I planned on consulting you. We’re equal partners,
and I can’t do anything without you. I wanted facts and figures first, for
myself as well as for you, and it’s been a little on the hectic side lately,
too much so to bring up the subject. Even you must see that.”

“Even me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gave her a long stare. “Something tells me I’m
not going to be able to say anything right tonight. All you’re capable of right
now is an argument, and this is too important to discuss in the mood you’re
in.”

He opened the door again, and she closed it again.

“It’s too important to put it off,” she snapped.
“Too important not to have already discussed it. And it’s not my mood at fault
here. It’s you and your lack of candor.”

He frowned. “Lack of candor? What are you trying to
say?”

“Oh? Now you’re insulted? If I remember correctly,
we talked once about my being used to taking care of myself. It looks like
you’re used to that as well. Being equal partners with you evidently means that
you do all the thinking and make all the decisions. Then when it suits you, you
let me in on it.”

He held his silence for a long while, then said,
“You’ve got quite a temper in you. I’ve seen glimpses of it before, but never
the full force of it.”

“And you think you’re seeing it now? Not even
close.” She forced herself to unclench her fists. “Do what you want with the
damned house. Mail me the papers. I’ll either sign them or I won’t.”

She opened the door and this time he closed it. “Oh,
no, you don’t. You started this, Sunny, and now we’re going to finish it.”

“Oh, really? You mean you’ve got a temper, too?”
Just when she was wondering how much longer she could hold out before she smacked
the wall with her fist, the kitchen light switched on. Their gazes—Jonathan’s
now as hard and angry as she felt hers must be—remained locked on each other.

“Sunny?” Ryan called curiously.

“I’m out here, Ryan, on the porch.” She looked
pointedly at Jonathan’s hand, which still gripped the doorknob. “The door’s
stuck. I can’t get it open.”

With his face taking on the appearance of a tight
mask, Jonathan removed his hand. He also looked like he wanted to hit
something.