Chapter 20

20

Dakota

C allie comes in just as I'm about to check my phone to see how long it will be before Chelsea and Maisie get here. The last time I read through the text updates, they were about twenty minutes away. My sister's presence makes me feel uneasy as I sit up in bed, bracing for more conflict. It's one of those moments where I regret sending the Faulkner brothers away. I'm overwhelmed. I'll just push the nurse's button if Callie gets out of line again.

"What do you want?" I ask, my brow furrowed as I watch her cautiously approach my bed.

"I need to apologize," she says, looking stern but tired. "I jumped way over the boundaries of common sense and decency with you, Dakota. You warned me about it. You pointed it out. But I was too busy being a raging bitch."

"Okay, wow."

She chuckles lightly. "Shocker, right?"

"No, I just don't believe you."

"Well, I had a heart-to-heart downstairs with your hubby-to-be a few minutes ago. He made a few points—all of them reasonable—and it got me thinking." She sighs and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. I really don't like the way her eyes sparkle whenever she mentions Archer. It makes my stomach churn. "You're not to blame for anything that our dad did. And you're not to blame for Grandma's decision to change her will, either."

"I never even reached out to her after Sally's funeral."

"I know. The old fiend tore you a new one," she scoffs and pinches the smooth bridge of her nose. "And so did I. Though, in my defense, I was eighteen and stupid."

"And what's your excuse now?"

She stares at me for a hot second, and I wonder if she's tempted to smack me across the face with the empty tray sitting on the table next to her. "I was hurt. And I took it out on you. Let's be real, it's a lot of money. I'd be a hypocrite if I said it didn't matter to me. That monthly allowance that Grandma set up for me… I know myself, Dakota, I'm going to blow right through it."

"I don't know what that feels like. We've always struggled with money."

"Which is why I think she decided to leave it all to you. She alluded to that in her will, and she probably thought you'd be wiser and more capable of handling such a large amount of money. Like I said, I'd blow right through it. Five thousand. Eighty million. I'd burn through it before I hit forty," Callie chuckles nervously. "I guess, in a way, she's trying to teach me some valuable lessons from beyond the grave while also trying to make it up to you. Because, at the end of the day, you were never at fault for Dad leaving."

"Marriages end," I reply, taking a deep breath. "I can't excuse our father for walking out on you and your mom. My husband walked out on me, too. One day, out of nowhere, he just left."

Callie takes a seat next to my bed. "I'm sorry."

"Honestly? I'm not. It hurt like a motherfucker at first, but I got over it. I learned to live with the pain. I pulled myself together, and—"

"And then you met Archer Faulkner. Talk about the universe repaying you for all that suffering, huh?"

"Thing is, like I said, marriages end. But Maisie was not to blame. And if Keith fathered another kid with somebody else, it's not that kid's responsibility, either. I would never teach Maisie to hate her siblings for anything in the world."

Callie nods slowly. "I guess that's where our grandmother fell short. If I'm to be completely honest, my mom was just as spiteful. They both spilled their venom in my ear, day after day, until all I felt was rage whenever Dad's name came up in conversation. The thing is, their marriage didn't end as abruptly as yours and Keith's."

"What do you mean?"

"Grandma let it slip more than once whenever she had a bone to pick with Mom. She blamed Mom for Dad leaving. She said she'd pushed him away. I never got the details, but my mother never clapped back on the matter. She sort of swallowed that pill and went on like nothing had happened. As far as I know, that isn't the behavior of an innocent person, is it?"

I shake my head. "Not really, no."

"Well, it's all in the past now, anyway. They're all dead. We're never going to hear both sides of the story. That's why I'm here, Dakota. We can't allow the discord they shared to cause dissension and hatred between us. It's not worth it. I don't want the bitterness or the resentment. It just doesn't make sense and I'm tired."

"Me, too," I say. "I've got enough on my plate as it is."

"You won't have for much longer," Callie giggles, leaning forward. "You're about to come into eighty million dollars."

"Yeah, but only if I'm married by Christmas."

"You're already engaged. What stops the two of you from tying the knot by then?"

Keeping up with this particular conversation would require more lying on my part. Callie seems to have finally come around. I dare not consider this a fresh start, but I don't intend to shit all over the white flag she just offered, either. With everything that has been going on, I can only be thankful that one foe has turned neutral. It's better than nothing.

I don't want to lie to her anymore. But I can't exactly tell her the truth, either.

"How long will you be staying in San Francisco?" I ask her with a tentative smile.

She eyes me intently for a long, heavy moment but thankfully decides not to pursue the engagement any further. "A couple of weeks, at least. I need to check out each one of the community centers that reached out to my foundation before I sign off on the donations," Callie says.

"Maybe we could hang out one of these days before you head back to New York and catch up. We could get to know each other for real, this time," I say, and I mean every damn word.

"Sounds like a plan." She smiles and hands me a business card from her shimmering green clutch purse. "My personal number is on the back. Drop me a text; I'm sure we can find time and a date for a girls' brunch or something. I'm buying, for obvious reasons."

"Okay, I'm not that poor; give it a rest," I mutter, somewhat insulted.

Callie gives me an awkward smile. "No. I mean, I'm buying for obvious reasons because I was the dick in this whole picture. It's the least I can do."

"Oh, right. Okay. Thank you."

Callie Monroe being decent is so unfamiliar to me. It's almost as if someone cut her from a different picture and pasted her here. Part of me is wary, and rightfully so. Caution is essential these days. But another part of me is gleeful. I grew up feeling so alone, spending most of my days wishing I had a brother or a sister.

Maybe this time it'll be different.