Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(79)

“Me too.”

“Do you still smell her perfume out there?”

“I did when I first arrived. Quite strong,” she said, omitting the ghost story. The more time went by, the more she was beginning to doubt she’d really seen her mother. To wonder if she’d just been tired from the long drive and it had simply been her imagination. “Not lately, though. I’m disappointed, truth be known.”

“I’d like to be there when it happens. Just to see what I felt, you know?” He paused and clasped his hands together tightly. “I never got to say good-bye to her. That thought still haunts me.”

Cara’s heart ached for her brother. “Mama knew you loved her. You were a good son, Palmer. The best.”

Palmer looked at that moment like the little boy she remembered. He’d adored Lovie, but even still, he had been as much an authoritarian with her as their father had been, controlling her finances with an iron hand. Cara suddenly recalled, with a stab of worry, that he had taken money from Lovie’s bank account to help support his business back then, too. That meant this wasn’t the first time the family export/import firm had had financial trouble.

“Palmer . . .” Cara hesitated to break his reverie. “I want to talk to you about something.”

His pensive gaze suddenly sharpened. “Oh?”

“I understand that the Rutledge Export/Import is in trouble.”

“Who told you that?” he asked, his voice sharp, tilting his head as though to better hear.

“You told me that, you alluded to it the day at the bar.”

“Oh, yeah . . .”

“And from Linnea. She heard it from Julia. And from Cooper.”

Palmer sat back in his chair and rubbed his jaw, clearly agitated.

“We’re all family, Palmer. No one is talking out of turn.”

“My business is no one’s business but my own,” he said. “And it’s doing fine. I told you that.”

“You did. And I don’t believe you.”

He glared back at her.

“Palmer, I’ve known you all your life. You can’t fool me. You’re doing what you’ve always done, trying to cover up any unpleasantness and bear the trouble alone. Why? We’re family, Palmer. You shouldn’t feel a responsibility to bear this weight all on your own.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you left thirty years ago. Left everything squarely in my hands.”

“I deserve that. But since we’re being honest . . . we both know Daddy wasn’t going to leave the business to me even if I did stay. Even if I wanted it. I know you never wanted to take over the business. Daddy forced it on you. And you’ve taken care of it—and this house—ever since.”

“He never asked me if I wanted it. Not once. I wish he had given it to you.”

“As your sister who loves you very much, I’m telling you that it isn’t your responsibility to keep that firm afloat.”

“That’s what men do,” he said with an air of bluster. “We keep the ship sailing.”

“Spare me the platitudes. You’re not a captain. You don’t have to go down with the ship. And if you call me a little lady, I’ll kick you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

Palmer guffawed and slapped the table. “There she is. There’s my sister.” He stood up and walked to the cabinet. “I could use a drink. Want a drink?”

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

He pulled out a glass and a bottle of bourbon. “I’m running late, then.” He chuckled as he poured himself a liberal amount. He looked up. “You sure you don’t want any?”

Cara didn’t reply.

Palmer came back to the table with his glass and sat with a heavy thump in the chair. “Oh, stop giving me the stink eye,” he said with a dismissive wave. “I’m too old to be lectured by my baby sister. Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Really? Do you have your drinking under control?”

Palmer’s face darkened. “Don’t meddle, Cara.”

“?‘Meddle’? That’s not the word I’d use. ‘Intervention’ is more like it.”

“Shit,” he drawled, and slammed his palm down on the table. “That tears it. I’m sick to death of you women hounding me for having a few drinks.”

“?‘A few drinks’?” Cara said, her voice rising. “Is that what you call getting drunk on a nightly basis? Fights with your wife and son? Palmer, you need help. Let me help you, whatever you need me to do. It’s you and me, remember? We swore after Mama died we’d take care of each other. You were there for me when I was falling apart after Brett died, and I’ll love you forever for that. And I’m prepared to go to hell and back to help you now. You can beat this curse, Palmer. You don’t have to end up like our father.”

“I’m not like him,” Palmer roared. “I’m nothing like him!”

“Are you so sure? Palmer, you’re becoming just like him.”

His face went pale.

Cara pressed on. “Don’t you remember what he was like? Yelling at Mama, browbeating her till she near broke. And me? He drove me away. I ran so hard and fast I couldn’t stop till I crossed the Mason-Dixon line. And you . . .” Cara’s face softened with love. “You got the worst of it. He came down on you so hard if ever you crossed him. He browbeat you too, but you stood and took it all. For me and for Mama.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she took a long, shuddering breath. She couldn’t allow herself to get emotional.