He cocks his head. “No,” he says as if he’s reaching that conclusion as he speaks. “Like you said, it’s not my fault. And I don’t think he’d treat me any differently even if he knew.”
“True.”
“Rock always says blood doesn’t matter. It’s character and loyalty that earns your place in this family.”
“He means it.” I think over the conversation I had with the girls not that long ago. “Almost everyone—the brothers and ol’ ladies—have little or no blood family in their lives for one reason or another. But we don’t need them, because we have the club. That’s our family.”
“Thank you for letting me be part of your life.”
I hug him again. “Always.”
“You deserve a loving family, Charlotte.” His voice cracks. “I like how close you are to the girls. Hope and Lilly, especially. You’ve always been such a good sister to me. You need a good big sister too.”
I don’t know if I really was that good of a sister to him. There sure seem to be a lot of things I missed.
“I remember how hard Mom was on you,” he continues, touching one of the long curls spilling over my shoulder. “It drove her nuts that you were so pretty. She’d say the meanest things right to your face. Even when I was a kid, I thought she sounded jealous. But it felt weird. What kind of mother is jealous of her own daughter?”
I swallow hard, embarrassed he remembers those cruel details. “A vain, immature one.”
He nods once. “That fits.” He presses his lips together like he’s debating his next words. “Chuck’s gross the way he talks about women but I remember him trying to stick up for you sometimes when Mom got out of control.”
Even I have to admit that’s true. “I don’t think it was easy for him to contradict her, though.”
“She and Chuck had a thing before Dad,” he says matter-of-factly.
“You knew?”
“Heard them argue about it. Talk about immature.” He rolls his eyes in a dramatic fashion. “The two of them never evolved past senior year.”
I snort.
“But when you changed, they did too,” he continues. “Her addictions got worse. Their relationship more volatile.” He stares at his pants and brushes at a loose thread. “I wondered if Chuck made a pass at you or something gross.”
I sigh. “Our family’s that fucked up, huh?”
He shrugs.
“This is hard for me to talk about. But you’re right. I’d rather tell you everything now, so I can start my new life as Marcel’s wife.” I press my hand to my stomach. “And as a mother who will always do better for her children.”
“I know you will, Charlotte. You were always so good, so patient with me. And I know I was demanding and annoying sometimes.”
“No you weren’t.” I smooth my hands over my dress. If we’re doing this, I better get it out now before I lose my nerve. “You remember I originally wanted to be a criminal lawyer?”
“Kind of.”
“Well, I did. I thought I’d prove myself useful to the club, you know?”
“God, why?”
I shrug. “We all seek approval from our parents in different ways, I guess.”
“Yikes.” He presses his fist into his gut. “That’s deep.”
I tilt my head, but realize he’s serious, not teasing me.
“Second year of law school, I went to the Christmas party at the clubhouse. You were sick.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I wish to God I’d stayed home to take care of you.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Charlotte.” Anxiety creeps into his voice.