of a lie he’s been telling himself.
“Carter, do you think anyone who knows you would believe you had it in you to do what she did?”
“It’s in my blood. Maybe,” se says sadly.
“Look what’s in mine.”
He turns his head sharply to look at me.
“What do you mean?”
“My father is a narcissistic, misogynist who doesn’t love anyone but himself. My grandmother is sadist who doesn’t even love herself. They raised me. And all of that I guess is in my blood, too. But I’m nothing like them. I choose not to be.”
He looks down at me, his expression conflicted, and then he seems to give up and he gives me an apologetic half smile.
“You’re pretty damn amazing, Beth. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner. It wasn’t you though. I didn’t want anyone to know. I haven’t told my family about some of it. Also, this is the kind of thing that the media loves. And this isn’t a story I want attached to my name.”
“But, you haven’t done anything wrong.”
He shifts uncomfortably.
“No one will care about that. They’ll just drag me and everyone I love through the mud. They’ll find that old arrest and say “Is Carter Bosh a ticking time bomb. His father was the town drunk who beat his mother until she murdered him? That’s not the story I want told about my life.” The vehemence in voice and the resolve in his eyes stills the argument I’m about to make.
I can’t imagine what he’s feeling. I could tell him that it doesn’t matter, but it’s much easier said than done.
“So, what now? Do you have other leads on the sibling you thought was Duke.”
“I’m done poking around. I’ve run into nothing but brick walls. I don’t need another brother. I have a great one. We fight, but he would fucking die for me. So, yeah. I think I’m good.”
I nod in agreement, but I’m not buying his I’m at peace routine. Carter is one of the most conscientious and thoughtful people I’ve ever met.
It shows everywhere from the way he talks about his family, to the way he plays the piano.
And in the way he treats me. I know without asking that I’m important to him. He’s always on time when we have plans. He calls exactly when he says he will. He remembers the way I took my tea from that first night we met and he makes it with just the right amount of sugar every single evening.
Carter is not one to forget about anything.
Much less a brother he knows is out there somewhere. One he disrupted his entire life to try and find.
He’ll just tell himself that until he’s so tied up with regret and curiosity that he can’t breathe.
“I think you should talk to Dina. She’s been investigating this for months. She knows all sorts of stuff that you wouldn’t be able to find in regular old public records. She might be able to answer your questions.”
He starts to speak and then closes his mouth. I can tell he doesn’t want to say yes or no. So, I make it easy for him.
“How about I give you her number and if you feel like it, you can call her, okay?”
“Sure.” He smiles, at me but he’s still on guard.
“Come on, let’s go work.” I stand up and hold out a hand to him.
He looks at my hand and then up at my face his brows are drawn together in consternation.
“That’s it? You don’t have questions about my family?
“I know your family and I think they’re wonderful. I think the same about you,” I say solemnly but with a smile.
He takes my outstretched hand, and I help him. And then, we go do what we do best.
18
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
BETH
“Oh Lizzy, your father – he’s flaunting his new mistress to his staff. It’s humiliating.”
“I’m sorry, Fiona. Are you thinking about coming home?” I sigh in resignation and put my pencil down. I’ve been drawing all afternoon. It was one of those rare days where I got home early enough to catch the last light of the day as it spills in through the windows. I’ve found, since I started this portrait of Carter, that sunlight is a really useful medium.
But Fiona called and spent the last thirty minutes talking, while I watched the sun set and take my light with it.
“No way. I’m just glad Cam isn’t old enough to understand all the ways he disrespects me.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s a silver lining,”
“Duke is