Eighteen

T hough she hoped it would happen, Genesis was shocked the next morning to wake up to a message from Clarence. Even more surprising and suspicious was its civil tone.

“Genesis, I received your message. We’ll see you at ten.”

The “we” part threw her, but just briefly. Of course Cleo would be with Clarence. He was an equal part of all that had gone on. Genesis was still very upset with her cousins’ actions. They’d treated her like a criminal and a liar, while she’d been blessed by Cyrus’s generosity. She was done feeling bad for her great-uncle’s gift and wouldn’t allow her cousins to take away the happiness his largesse had provided. Not long ago, she would have gotten down in the mud with them. Not today. Her life felt good. She planned to stay focused on that.

Hoping to somehow mend the rift that Cyrus had created, she decided to play hostess and treat her cousins as guests. Not in the homemade-from-scratch way Hazel McCormick approved, but in classic Genesis Hunter style. This meant a trip into town to the Holy Goodness bakery for a variety of pastries, then a stop at the store for a selection of juices and a fresh fruit tray.

Back home, preparations became more complicated. Cyrus was a man’s man, a decided bachelor with no use for frivolous decorations. There were no nice pitchers to pour the orange juice or a tablecloth in sight. She wished for the time to pick a bouquet of the wildflowers that grew near the pond. In the end, she ditched all ideas of fancy. This was a farm, not a five-star. She set the apple, orange and lemonade cartons on the table, opened the box of pastries and set the fresh fruit in the middle. The small plates, cups and silverware were set on the end of the table. She looked around and almost became emotional.

“Wish me luck, Uncle Cyrus.”

She heard the sound of tires on gravel, looked out the window at a full-size SUV approaching and walked toward the screen door.

Showtime.

She opened the door and stepped out on the porch. The SUV windows were tinted. She imagined Cleo and Clarence getting out, and maybe their wives. She was right about Clarence and Cleo. The wild card she hadn’t expected was when Tiffany stepped out of the van’s side door looking runway-ready, her shoulder-length hair flat-ironed, makeup flawless, wearing jeans and a crop top that emphasized her assets. A pair of faux designer glasses completed the look. Genesis had always thought her cousin was pretty. Still did. Meanwhile, her hand unconsciously slid up and touched the uncombed tresses she’d quickly tamed with a scrunchie. Her cousins were family. She hadn’t dressed up. Jean shorts were paired with a retro-styled black tee bearing an iridescent peace sign emblazoned on the front. She hoped they’d see it and get the message. No need for drama here!

Clarence, Cleo and Tiffany crossed the yard like strangers on their way to a business meeting. Clarence’s neck stretched here and there, taking in the house and surrounding landscape. Cleo’s eyes were fixed on the steps and front porch. A blinged-out cell phone held Tiffany’s attention as she finished a conversation that had obviously begun in the van.

“Talk to you later,” she said, as she walked up the stairs and pulled off her glasses. Then to Genesis, “Hey, girl.”

“Hey, Tiffany.” The brief, obligatory hug. Genesis noted Tiffany smelled good, too. She’d looked nice at the funeral but nothing like this. Had her cousin snagged a man and was he back at the hotel chilling, patiently awaiting her return? Or did her plans in Holy Mound include snagging a local, one who just happened to live down the road?

“We just talked two days ago. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“You’re not the only one who can keep secrets.” Tiffany slid her a side-eye look. “Daddy didn’t want you to know.”

She continued across the porch. “All this is new, huh? The porch and steps.”

“Looks good,” Cleo admitted. “Hope you haven’t started borrowing money on the house.”

“What’s in that shed?” Clarence yelled from the side yard.

“Why don’t we all go in the house and get comfortable. When it comes to this farm, there are no secrets.” She looked pointedly at Tiffany, who tsked and turned her head. “Ask me anything. If I have the answer, you’ll have the answer.”

Genesis led the way into the house and continued to the dining room and the breakfast spread.

“I didn’t know if y’all had a chance to eat breakfast, so I picked up a few things. Help yourself.”

Tiffany bypassed the dining room and went looking—snooping—through the house. Cyrus no longer lived here. This was her house. Genesis took a breath and ignored the rude behavior. She was determined to have at least one conversation about this property that didn’t result in a fight.

“Do you have any coffee?” Cleo asked, picking up a caramel-and-nut-covered Danish and taking a bite.

“Sure. Give me five minutes.”

“That’s okay if it’s not ready.”

“It’ll only take a sec.”

When she returned from the kitchen holding a mug of steaming java, she found the brothers had turned the living room into a treasure hunt. Clarence had removed the glass from the trunk and had Cyrus’s guns spread across the glass that was now on the floor. Cleo had found a stack of papers in a piece of furniture she didn’t even know had a drawer. He sat in the recliner, looking through them.

Genesis ran a hand across the iridescent iron-on. Peace.

“Here you go, Cleo.” She set down the mug. “There’s sugar and cream on the kitchen counter.”

“No, black is fine. Thanks.”

Tiffany came into the room. “This place is smaller than I remember. That back bedroom we slept in felt huge at the time.”

“Did you see the pastries, Tiffany?”

“I’m losing weight, doing intermittent fasting. I’ll take a cup of coffee, though.”

“Mugs are in the cabinet. Spoons in the drawer. Sugar and cream on the counter. Help yourself.”

Genesis poured herself a glass of orange juice and, with the rest of the contents from Cyrus’s trunk now taking up couch space, pulled a chair from the dining room table.

“How long are you guys going to be here, Clarence?”

“We leave tomorrow.”

“That soon? It’s going to take days to go through the lifetime Cyrus lived here.”

“I’m only taking anything of value, and what can fit on the plane.”

With the strength it took to not open her mouth, Genesis could have lifted her uncle’s beloved John Deere tractor. She told herself their feeling validated was worth more than any material possession. She had the farm, the land and a great idea. They could take everything not nailed down in this house and the shed. She would be just fine.

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been here and there’s a lot to explore, but is there any way we can talk first? About the will, the trust, the deed, the lawsuit?”

After several moments, long enough for Genesis to need another glass of juice and this time bringing a doughnut along, the cousins gave her their attention. Tiffany moved over some of the items on the couch and sat down.

Genesis started the conversation by addressing the bull the size of Randy in the middle of the room. “I wish y’all hadn’t felt the need to sue me.”

“Didn’t want to,” Cleo said. “You left us no choice.”

“Uncle Cyrus left you no choice,” she corrected. “Tiffany, when we finished speaking a couple days ago, I called Al Young, the attorney.” She looked at Clarence. “I told him I wanted to sell the farm and split the profits. He told me I couldn’t for at least ten years.”

“We’re contesting the will on the basis of incompetency,” Cleo said. “Daddy was in no shape to make major decisions. There was no one here looking out for him, speaking on his behalf.”

“I have no idea who was or wasn’t here when the will was drawn up. As I’ve said many times, I was shocked by what happened. I received and read the will on the same day as you.”

“When you speak with your...attorney,” Clarence said, with contempt, “he’ll let you know an injunction has been issued that bars anything further from being done to this property or moved until this matter is corrected. I didn’t know you’d already started spending money. Have you borrowed against the place? Is that how you’re living out here without working and how those repairs got done?”

Genesis wasn’t much of a praying woman but she literally called on Jesus. The blatant disrespect was next-level. If her relatives thought they were going to come in here and walk over her, they had another think coming.

“I resent your implications, Clarence. They are insulting. You owe me an apology.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Tiffany said.

Genesis stood up. This charade was over. Clearly, her cousins were incapable of acting like they had some got damn sense!

“I’ve tried to be understanding. I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to be fair. None of that is working. My kindness is taken for weakness, and the more I try to be compassionate and sensitive about what’s happened, the more I get treated like an enemy. So we’re done here. Okay?

“For the record, and not that it’s any of your business, I am working. As Tiffany knows, because I told her, it’s a customer service job worked from home. Nothing has been borrowed against this home—my property, I might add, as stated in the deed you’re contesting. Until that lawsuit is successful and Cyrus’s will is deemed invalid, I will remain in the house Uncle Cyrus gave me.”

Genesis felt herself getting emotional. She didn’t care. When it came to this whole debacle, she was tired of trying to hide her feelings. She would speak from her heart and call a thing a thing.

“Clarence, Cleo, I have only vague memories of you coming around when we were little. You’re practically strangers to me. But I loved your dad, my uncle Cyrus, like a grandfather, a father even, because he loved me when my sperm donor wasn’t around.

“Tiffany, I can’t believe how you’re acting. Unlike your father and uncle, we have history. We’ve shared things. You know how not having my biological father around affected me. The insecurities. The low self-esteem.”

A tear fell. Then another. “I stayed in contact with Uncle Cyrus because he loved me, and I loved him. I did it because I liked his company. I did it because he was a connection to the half of myself that I didn’t know. That outside of him and those treasured times with you, Tiffany, and Kayla, memories that are now being tarnished with this bullshit, I couldn’t connect. Except for a handful of visits from a man who called himself dad but never acted like one, I didn’t experience what you, Tiffany, take for granted.”

Genesis paused, wiped the tears off her face.

“I will not let you take away the fond memories of my uncle. And as of this moment, since you’re determined to go there and make this a battle, know that I will not ignore his wishes and destroy his legacy. I’m done trying to bend over backward to please you. I will not be selling this house.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Genesis, emotionally drained, dropped into the dining room chair.

Clap.

Genesis frowned, looked over at her cousin who’d leaned back against the couch. She straightened and clapped again. Slowly. Repeatedly.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

“That was good, Genesis. Award-winning performance.” She halted Genesis’s coming outburst by holding up a hand.

“I’m not trying to be mean, really, I’m not. You did go through it as a little girl. Not knowing your dad. Being chubby, thinking you looked cute in those oversize glasses. We shouldn’t have teased you. Those glasses were cute. Hell, they’re back in style. But I remember how lonely you sometimes felt, like you didn’t belong. Especially if our parents were here. I’m sorry about that. Whether or not you know it, we are protecting Grandpa’s legacy. My dad and uncle, his heirs, are his legacy, Genesis, not you.” She stopped and delivered a dramatic pause. “And not Jaxson King.”

The comment came so out of left field that Genesis flinched. Felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. While here gathering information to help our lawsuit, talking to people who also knew and loved Grandpa, I just happened to stumble onto some juicy small-town gossip. I know all about your little secret, your little fling you’ve got going with your neighbor up the way. More importantly, I know what you don’t know about him. He’s playing you now like he did years ago.”

Genesis couldn’t hide her surprise. Or hurt.

“Oh, yeah. I know about that, too. You know I’ve always been a people person. And over the last couple days I’ve gone around and met a few people who knew Jax King when he was the big boy on campus in this little town. People that had you not been so...whatever...you might have taken the time to talk to and know who you’re dealing with. Later, you’ll owe me an apology. And a thank-you.”

Suddenly, a picture began forming that became very clear. The peace that had fled away returned. She looked at her cousin with a new understanding. Tiffany had been both her friend and her enemy. She hadn’t wanted to see it, wouldn’t admit it until now. Tiffany had grown up with everything but was still jealous of her.

Genesis crossed her arms, taking in what she now knew was fake confidence from a woman who really didn’t feel good about herself. Genesis recognized it because it was once in her mirror. Had she not been familiar with how it showed up, Tiffany’s act would have sent her straight to the depression she’d felt when her family found out about Jaxson and turned against her. That girl back there was not this woman. Genesis eyed Tiffany’s hair, nails, the cute jeans, flawless makeup and saw right through the whole charade to her cousin’s real MO. Clarence and Cleo wanted the farm. Tiffany wanted her man.

Well, damn family.

Genesis chuckled and did a little faking herself. She was still reeling from the emotional jab straight to the face, but ignored the shock, pain, anger, all the emotions that had been seconds away from erupting. She’d deal with them later. Now she sat back...slowly crossed her arms and legs.

“Why don’t you tell me, Miss Wikipedia, with all the information? Why don’t you tell me about the real Jaxson King?”

A loud thump sounded in the hall. All eyes turned at once toward the heavy sound of approaching footsteps. Jaxson walked into the room—and owned it.

“Yes, Tiffany.” He acknowledged the cousins. “Clarence. Cleo.”

“Why don’t you tell all of us who I really am?”