made it that much harder. “She is, and as much as I love talking about her, I have something more important to talk with you about. Have either of you seen or heard from Marshall?” Their faces filled with confusion.
“No,” they said in unison.
“Have you heard from him?” his mother asked hopefully.
He set his glass down and pressed his hands to his thighs to keep them from clenching. “Yes. He was at my place when I got home after dropping off Jolie last night.”
“How is he?” His mother shifted to the edge of the chair, eyes wide.
“What did he say?” Delaney asked, only slightly less anxiously than his mother.
“Not much. I didn’t really give him a chance.”
His mother sank back in the chair and said, “Oh, Harley.” The disappointment in her voice was inescapable.
“What, Mom?” He was unable to keep the bite from his tone and was too agitated to sit still. He pushed to his feet and paced. “What did you want me to do after the way he abandoned you and showed up at Dad’s funeral all messed up? Welcome him with open arms? Offer him a beer?”
Grief worked its way up his mother’s face, forming a frown, heavy eyelids, and a furrowed brow, adding more weight to the lead in Harley’s gut.
“Of course not,” Delaney said. “Calm down for a second, Harley. This is a lot for Mom to take in.”
“No shit, Dee. How do you think I felt last night when he showed up out of the blue?” He couldn’t look away from his mother’s grief. “Say something, Mom.”
“Is he gone again?” she asked shakily.
“I don’t know,” Harley said. “I assumed he’d come here or to Delaney’s.”
“I haven’t seen or heard from him,” Delaney said. “If you went at him like you did after the funeral, he probably took off again.”
“Oh,” his mother said sadly, lowering her gaze to the coffee table. “He just missed Mother’s Day.”
“Mother’s Day? Really?” He scoffed. “What the hell do you want from me? I was trying to protect you. I’m sure he needs something. Wait until you see him. He’s covered in tattoos. We have no idea what he’s gotten into, and until we find out, I don’t know if I trust him around you.”
His mother closed her eyes, breathing deeply. When she opened them, determination replaced the grief he’d seen. She grabbed the arms of the chair and sat up straight. “Harley, that is not your decision to make.”
“Jesus, Mom. You have always had a soft spot for him.”
“He’s my son,” she said sharply.
Years of repressed emotions rushed out. “So am I, and Delaney’s your daughter. You had us busting our asses at the bar from the time we were kids—washing dishes, clearing tables—and Marshall never had a single responsibility. We’ve always been here for you.”
“You loved working there. So did Delaney,” his mother insisted.
“It’s true,” Delaney said. “But Harley has a point. Not that you chose favorites, but you have to admit, Marshall was brought up differently than we were.”
“He was a different child. He was moody, and maybe you don’t remember, but he could get very sullen and pull away from us. We didn’t want to lose him altogether,” his mother said, her eyes pleading for understanding. “He wasn’t resilient like you two were. He was fragile.”
Harley paced. “The only thing fragile about Marshall was the glass box you and Dad kept him in.”
“We had a business and two other children to care for.” His mother rose to her feet, speaking with her hands, which she did only when she was trying not to yell. “It was easier to let him do his own thing than to fight over what we wanted him to do. You and Delaney were strong and even-tempered. You wanted to learn and to be part of the business from the time you realized there was more to our family than just what was under our roof. But not all children are the same. Maybe you won’t understand that until you have your own, but Delaney should.” She looked at Delaney and said, “Jolie and Sophie aren’t alike in their moods or their interests. You know you cannot treat every child the same.”
“That’s true,” Delaney agreed. “But that doesn’t mean we didn’t feel slighted because of it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but letting him do whatever he wanted opened the door for him to blow off the few responsibilities and commitments he had, like school and family.” And Piper.
“You’re right, and it was something your