Connor said, “Funny story. I’ll tell you in private.”
Dalton circled around the table to my side and gave my mother a big hug. “So good to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe.” He shook my father’s hand and sheepishly muttered an apology for not doing the “traditional thing” and formally asking for permission to wed their daughter.
Dalton took a seat next to me, and the six of us looked back and forth at each other, the majority of us waiting for Jake to say something scandalous.
Jake, who was at the head of the table, opposite my father, took a long look at Connor, then at Dalton.
Jake was the one who’d invited Connor there, so he knew the connection, but wasn’t letting on.
Slowly, he said, “Look at you two. That’s some good casting. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were brothers. What do you say, there, Connor? Remind me again what your mother looks like. Is she a pretty lady who enjoyed some Big Dick before he got the ol’ snip-snip? What I’m asking is, do you look like your daddy who raised ya?”
My mother laughed uncomfortably, then everyone grew silent and leaned in.
Connor’s jaw moved up and down, but no words came out. I couldn’t handle the suspense, or everyone thinking what they were thinking.
They knew there was a surprise family member coming, and I could just FEEL them jumping to the wrong conclusions.
Unable to handle the misunderstanding any longer, I blurted out, “Connor and Dalton are cousins! Connor’s mother was sisters to Dalton’s mother!”
As soon as I said the words, I realized that revelation didn’t rule out the other possibility that had been raised. I turned to Jake, aghast. Were the guys cousins as well as half-brothers?
“Hmm,” Jake said, narrowing his eyes at Connor.
Connor burst out laughing. “Jake Blake, you may be a genuine motherfucker, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t f**k my mother.”
The waitress who had come to our table said, “I’ll come back in a minute,” and disappeared.
“We’re cousins?” Dalton asked, staring with wide eyes at Connor. “No shit. So that means Jamie is…”
“Aunt Jamie.”
Dalton nodded his head forward and held the back of his hand to his mouth, as if he might throw up. After a moment, everyone at the table’s eyes on him, Dalton looked up and said, “I was invited to audition, and it seemed odd at the time.”
Next to me, my mother murmured, “The family connection.”
Dalton shook his head, his cheeks colorless and face smooth. He’d shaved, and looked so young in that moment. Softly, he said, “I have a family.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand.
He turned to me, eyes wide with surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was there.
He continued, saying directly to me, “And now you’ll be my family.” He looked over to my mother and father. “And both of you, too. All of us.”
“I know, man,” said Connor. “It’s crazy. I love you, man.”
“I love you too,” Dalton said to his cousin.
We were quiet for a minute, everyone staring at Dalton.
My mother began to cry. “This is so beautiful,” she sniffed.
Jake waved for the waitress, then turned back to Connor with a grin. “I remember now, I did meet your mother a few times, back before things got real bad with your family. I’m fairly certain I didn’t bang her. Not my type, really.”
My father cleared his throat. “And what rare kind of woman, pray tell, is not your type?”
Jake seemed surprised by the question. “Same as any man. The type who don’t laugh at my jokes.” He looked at Connor pointedly. “And redheads, of course. I’ll never touch a redhead unless I’m being paid.”
“My mother’s a redhead,” Connor explained to the rest of us.
Everyone at the table nodded and visibly relaxed, as if confirmation of her being a redhead was as good as a DNA test, and, based on the rant about redheads Jake launched into next, it was.
The waitress returned, and we all ordered breakfast.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the food came to our table and Jake’s attention turned to eating.
As we ate, my mother leaned over to me and said, “How did you sleep? Our room is over the hot tub room, and some drunken idiots were in there singing all night.”
I whispered back, “How awful. Considering how nice this resort is, I’m surprised they let in so much riff-raff.”
My mother giggled. “Like me and your father? I hope you’re not ashamed of us.”
“No, Mom.” I glanced over at Jake, who was regaling everyone with a story about the most notorious redhead in the adult film industry. “You’d have to try hard to outdo Dalton’s family.”
“The cousin seems nice,” she whispered. “Is he single? You should introduce him to Shayla.”
“I’m sure he has plenty of women throwing themselves at him.”
“Sure,” she snorted. “Skinny Hollywood types who don’t eat. These actor types, they need a real woman to anchor them.” She blinked and waved her hands. “No offense meant by the word anchor, but I’ve been reading up on some of these Hollywood marriages, and the ones that last are the ones you don’t see splashed all over the magazines. Like that lady who married the cameraman. They’re still married, right?”
“Julia?”
My mother gasped. “Look at you, calling her by her first name. I’d love to meet her someday. You know we share a birthday, right?”
Someone’s phone started ringing, and everyone reached for their pockets.
“Mine,” called my mother. “Stand down, everyone.”
Dalton’s end of the table went back to their conversation, and my mother checked her phone.
“That doesn’t sound good,” she said.
“Something wrong with Kyle?” A wave of panic washed over me. Here we all were, having a great time at a resort, and he was back home without us, feeling sick.
She frowned and showed the phone to my father. He put down his utensils, and the two of them whispered back and forth.
Dalton held his hand up to quiet his father momentarily, and asked us what was wrong.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” my mother said. “Our son, Kyle, has a fever,” she explained to Connor. “He’s seven.”
“I had no idea,” Dalton said, looking shaken.
“He’s probably fine,” my mother said, her voice betraying her concern with a tremble.