Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Brandon

Breakfast is served promptly at 8 a.m. the following morning; Mom wants everyone out in the boats by 9 a.m. to begin the treasure hunt. I tried getting drunk last night, but watching Damon weaving around Rose like he didn’t think anyone would notice—like he didn’t think Kelly would notice—and listening to his voice growing louder, the gin didn’t even touch the sides. I’m all out of excuses.

I hear squeals of laughter before I enter the garden room.

Rose is sitting with my nieces at the kids’ table building towers with fingers of buttered toast, mouths and eyes wide open, mesmerized. I stand in the doorway. Frankie reaches the second story when Georgie, the baby, pushes over the toast tower with her chubby finger.

More giggles. Rose tips her head back and laughs like she’s never had so much fun. When was the last time I laughed like that?

“Sit down, brother.”

I hadn’t even noticed Damon at the table, his plate piled high with scrambled eggs from a silver tureen, and crispy bacon. He reaches for the jug of maple syrup and drizzles a crisscross pattern across his plate.

I take the seat between Damon and my mother, who sips her black coffee and dabs her mouth with a pristine white napkin. “Isn’t it lovely to watch the children having fun?” she says.

There’s no sign of Kelly yet. Damon folds a bacon rasher into his mouth, unfazed by his wife’s absence.

“Noisy,” I say, filling my cup with steaming coffee.

My father is seated at the head of the table, The New York Times spread out in front of him. Ron and Sumaira wish me good morning. Uncle Bill salutes me with his customary tap to the forehead—his wife April hasn’t made an appearance at the table yet. As I swallow my first mouthful of coffee and wait for the caffeine to hit, my father’s friends Peter and Diane stroll in.

“Remind me again why those cocktails were such a good idea.” Diane slumps in her seat and presses a hand to her forehead as if trying to hold her head up.

My father peers up from his newspaper. “Cocktails are always a good idea—just ask my wife.”

“I’ll second that.” Jennifer is dressed for the day’s adventure in white jeans and a red shirt, secured in a knot at her waist. She looks fresher than the other guests, like she was on iced water instead of gin and tonics the night before.

I glance at Rose who, checking Jennifer out, has sent another stack of toast tumbling across the table. Catching my eye, her cheeks fill with color, and she mumbles, “Clumsy me. Charlie, why don’t you have a go?”

“I’ll have a go,” Damon says, forking scrambled eggs into his mouth.

He leaves the table before anyone can stop him and, kneeling, squeezes in between Rose and Georgie at the little table, his arm brushing against Rose’s.

My fists instinctively clench. I had the opportunity to distract him from Rose, and I let it go. Now that he’s seeing it through with his part of the deal, why the hell am I suddenly getting all protective over her? She’s my mom’s little project, not mine.

She flinches, pulls away, and catches my eye again like she somehow knows I set her up for this. No one else has noticed—my mother has started a conversation about the new show premiering on Broadway next month. I keep my eyes down—I’m not getting involved.

“Daddy, you smell funny,” Georgie says.

“Well, that’s not very nice, is it?” Damon is trying to stack slices of toast the way we used to build towers from a deck of playing cards when we were younger.

“Why don’t you leave the kids to it?” I suggest. “Rose seems to know what she’s doing.”

Rose flashes me a grateful smile.

Behind me, Kelly says in a low voice from the doorway, “Yes, Damon, why don’t you leave the kids to it?”

“Ah, Kelly!” My mother claps her hands, taking control. “Have you brought the treasure hunt plan with you?”

“I have.” Kelly takes a seat across the table from me and places a handheld device on the napkin folded neatly next to her plate. She avoids eye contact with anyone around the table.

She looks tired. There are dark, puffy smudges under her eyes, and her skin is pale. She has always been so vibrant, so full of vitality, that I wonder how my mother has missed these noticeable changes. Or maybe she hasn’t.

“Kelly and Rose have exceeded my expectations for the treasure hunt,” my mother continues. “You’ll each be working with a partner, as chosen by my two wonderful planners, leaving the island at 9 a.m. promptly.”

I groan inwardly. There’s no way that Rose and Kelly will have partnered me with Jennifer, which means that I’ll end up spending the day with one of my parents’ friends with whom I have nothing in common. My only consolation is that they won’t have allocated me to share a boat with Damon.

At promptly 9 a.m.,, as instructed by my mother, we all make our way down the winding wooden walkway to the jetty where the speedboats are lined up in a row like soldiers. My partner, Aunt April, is still AWOL, and I’m praying that the bottle of Moet she snuck up to her room after dinner last night will prevent her from joining in with the fun—I’ll make better progress alone.

Rose is searching for pretty stones and flowers with the three girls, keeping them occupied so that they don’t get in the way.

Damon stands in front of his chosen boat with his partner Jennifer. Did Kelly deliberately put them together as a test, or has she given up trying to contain her husband? His eyes seek out mine, his mouth twisted into a lopsided smile, eyebrows raised.

For once, I don’t think Kelly has anything to worry about. Today will be all about the competition.

Uncle Bill comes jogging up the walkway behind us, panting, and holding his knees when he arrives while he catches his breath. “April … can’t make it… She’s a little … hungover this morning… She sends … her apologies, Ruby.”

“Brandon, honey, we must find you another partner,” my mother says, casting her eyes around the group.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll go alone.” I wave my printed instructions at her to prove that I know exactly what’s expected of me.

But my mom has other ideas. “Rose! You can go with Brandon.”

“No!” I blurt out.

Rose peers up from the pale grey stone in her hand and says, “No!” wide-eyed, like my mom just suggested she swim to Key Largo and back without a safety vest. “I helped write the clues.”

“Honey, it doesn’t give you an advantage.” Mom smiles at her, and everyone here but Rose will understand that the matter has already been decided. “You still have to complete the tasks in the fastest time.”

“But…” Rose swallows and peers around the group as if someone might come to her rescue, her eyes finally settling on mine. “What about the children?”

“I’ll take Rose.” Damon joins in.

“Damon,” Kelly says softly. Her mouth opens and closes as if choosing her words to create the least fuss in front of the guests. “Brandon can’t go with Jennifer. It’s against the rules.”

“Rules are made to be broken, right, brother?” Damon aims a sly grin my way.

“Not in this instance.” I walk to the nearest boat and look at Rose who straightens, watching the conversation pan out like she has already relinquished control. “Coming?” I demand against my better judgment.

“You can refuse,” Damon says to her. “Your choice, Rose. Me or my brother.”

“Damon!” Kelly’s voice splits the air. “Why do you always do this?”

“Okay, everyone into their boats,” my mom says coolly. “You all have your instructions. The first couple to complete the final task, with timed proof on their cellphones, wins.”

Damon doesn’t miss a beat. He is the first to climb into his speedboat—no doubt to avoid his wife—and Jennifer isn’t far behind him. He already lost the first round this morning when I claimed Rose—he isn’t about to lose the treasure hunt too.

I clamber into a boat and take my position near the engine. The boat rocks slightly as Rose climbs in behind me, and I start up the engine, the roar vibrating inside my chest. Damon’s boat is already speeding away, leaving a foamy white trail across the water’s surface.

It rocks again, and I growl, “Sit still, or you’ll tip it over.”

“No, Brandon, wait.”

I’m not listening. I loosen the rope securing our vessel to the wooden post and steer us in the direction of the first clue, in the wake of Damon’s boat.

“No, Brandon, wait!” Rose yells.

Too late, I turn around and spot my niece in Rose’s arms, her thumb in her mouth as she watches me with Kelly’s eyes.