change the topic. “I guessed that’s why you called from America?”
“Yes, but I’m flying home with my family for the holidays.”
Simon sounded so responsible. The cocky, rebellious boy always looking for a dare was gone. I stilled with the tape in my hand and said, “Have fun. I’ve not been back there since…”
“Your family moved away soon after,” Simon supplied.
So, we were going to talk about Blake. I plopped down onto the old bedroom floor and rubbed my eyes. I was leaving after I finished packing. Hopefully, the blue eyes of my brother wouldn’t stare at me from my memory. “Yeah, my father was a frog anyhow. I mostly grew up in the sun and, until now, haven’t talked about Blake in years.”
“He loved you.”
My brother had always had the bullocks to tell me what I needed to do while he did the opposite. Get good grades when he cut class. He’d stood in the family boat but had told me to sit. I rubbed my face like that might wash the memories away. “He loved his days with you and Calliope more. I was the annoying little brother.”
“He talked about you all the time. I didn’t have a brother to brag about.”
Only to mention how I’d earned the best grades, so he didn’t have to. I was young but not deaf. “Not much to brag about but thank you.”
“I’d like to talk in person.”
So much for leaving on a high note after that kiss. Better to not give in to temptation. The American beauty had been right; without her name, I couldn’t search for her to determine if our interlude was just a one-time shock or if every kiss held fireworks.
I taped up the box and said, “I can’t. Doesn’t matter what happened to me anyhow. I’ll be the son my father wanted.”
“Blake, maybe if we speak in person…”
There it was. The polite pause. I fucking hated that. “I’m going to my parents’ place in Saint-Cyr-sur-Mer.”
“On the way is Monte Carlo.”
I glanced up and jumped. My brother’s reflection stared at me from the mirror. I shook it off as the white flowers that Cecilia’s sister, Desiree, must have put there replaced him. “Are you looking to gamble?”
“I’ll bring my family there. Calliope wants to meet you again. And we can talk about your case, man to man.”
I took another box and assembled the bottom. “We don’t need to.”
“Look. I’m a doctor, too, and you’re the closest thing I had to a little brother. Please.”
“Did Simon Hogue just say please?” As a boy I’d never heard him say that. Neither had Blake as he was invincible… until he wasn’t. I picked up my medical books and arranged them in the box to never open again, but a tingle on my spine hit me.
If my parents forwarded my number, perhaps talking wasn’t horrible. It had been my job for years to watch out for them, and now I’d be closer to do that job better.
Simon quickly said, “I’m teaching my children.”
Then my mother’s British voice appeared in my head, shouting at me to be polite. “And you have children.”
“Do you?”
“No.” Children complicated life, and despite how Cecilia pleaded, I’d always wrapped myself up. “My fiancée and I broke up. Look, I’ll head to Monte Carlo tomorrow. If you’re there, we’ll talk. If not, it’s fine.”
“We’ll be there. Don’t lose my number, Quentin.”
The train stopped there anyhow, so delaying life on a vineyard for a day wasn’t the end of the world. “I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
I hung up and finished with the books. Maybe facing my brother would bring me some measure of peace. As a doctor, I always recommended not letting anything in the mind color the future, and this might be a wake-up call.
One day was fine, but then I heard a familiar voice. “Who will you see?”
I knew that the woman staring at me was tall, leggy, but she lacked that sexy sway of hips, even in her high heels. I hadn’t noticed hips until the American. I taped up the box I’d intentionally forget about in a backroom somewhere and asked, “Desiree, what are you doing here?”
“I hoped I’d catch you before you left.”
Why? She’d cried and ranted at me that I ruined her life and killed her sister. I’d failed my fiancée and proved I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor.
I took out another box. “My train leaves tonight.”
She reached for my hand to stop me. Her sister had once made my hand