I bow my head and pinch the bridge of my nose between my left thumb and forefinger. “I didn’t even do anything. All I have to do is exist for her to have a heart attack.”

“Which seems more like a her problem than a you problem, to my senile brain.” Magnus takes another sip.

“It could be a Jackie problem if she gets fired because of it.”

Magnus’s shoulders rise and fall again, which has always been half of his communication. “Jackie will land on her feet. She’s smart. She’s a Gable.”

“In this town, that seems to be a liability now as much as it ever was.”

“Maybe to Sylvia Riscoff, but that old bat hates everyone and everything. Why do you care what she thinks of you, anyway? You gave her the biggest fuck-you of all time when you rejected her son in front of God and everyone. One of the most entertaining days of my life, I might add.”

Why do I care what Mrs. Riscoff thinks of me? Oh, that’s right, guilt.

“But—”

Magnus holds up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but nothing that happened a decade ago was your fault. You weren’t involved in that mess, so why do you keep trying to take on the responsibility for it?”

The old man is full of questions I’m not ready to answer today.

“I don’t know.” I release a long breath. “I’ve been holding on to it for so long, I don’t know how to let go.”

“No, you’ve been running so long, you don’t know how to stop. Maybe you oughta give that a try and see what it’s like to just be.”

As he takes another swig of moonshine, I wonder how much he’s already had today and whether I should be taking his advice. Then again, he’s probably immune to its effects by now.

I stare out over the gorge. God, I missed this view. But that doesn’t matter.

“Sylvia will never let me just be in Gable. She’ll run me out of town if it’s the last thing she does.”

Magnus glances over his shoulder at the house a hundred feet away. “Good thing Sylvia isn’t the one whose opinion matters in that family.”

“Like Commodore would ever take the side of a Gable. You two shoot at each other.”

“On the daily. Keeps us both on our toes. But he’s got a leash on Sylvia, or should I say a tight grip on the purse strings.”

I don’t quite take his point. “What are you suggesting I do exactly?”

“Put some steel in your spine, hold your ground, and don’t let Sylvia Riscoff decide your future.” He tilts his head to the right, his gaze sharp. “You never know what might happen.”

Twenty-Seven

Lincoln

My brother’s words follow me out of the hospital as I watch my sister direct her driver to lift Mother into her SUV to take her home.

“It’ll be interesting to see if you find out what it’s like to not have a claim to everything you think you deserve, big brother.”