Ben

The roar of a plane taking off fills the air. I look overhead, admiring the majestic underbelly of an aircraft as it shoots through the clear blue sky and finally disappears from sight.

My gaze falls back to earth where taxi men linger on the sidewalk. Some are standing, while others lounge around looking bored.

Airport workers scurry in and out of the building, dressed in their pressed white shirts and navy pants. The women shoot me curious looks as they pass by. Strange, given they work at an international airport. Most of them see white people all the time.

I ignore the stares and try not to meet anyone’s eye. I shouldn’t be here for much longer. My dad’s flight was supposed to land five minutes ago and the steady stream of tourists flowing out of the airport is a sign they’ll be out soon too.

I glance to my right where a group of drivers cluster around the railing separating the public from the airport doors. Most of them hold a poster of some kind with the name of their client written on it.

Should I have done that?

Nah.

The sun glints on my rental car parked nearby. I remove my baseball cap from my head and swipe the sweat running down my temple with a shirtsleeve.

The heat in Belize is… something else. No wonder Harry looked pink all the time. How long did it take before he got used to the humidity?

It’s been five minutes since I pulled up to the airport, but it feels like five hours. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen, surprised to find a text from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: Hey, this is Logan.

UNKNOWN: My cousin says the gang owes him a favor. If things get difficult, say the word and they’ll do what needs to be done.

I snort at her message and tuck the phone back into my pocket.

Logan is… getting under my defenses.

On our coffee date yesterday, I exposed my family’s scandal. My insecurities. My fears. I shared feelings I kept secret from my closest friends. It left me feeling flustered. Unsettled.

So, as soon as I heard Logan’s key in the lock, I turned the lights off and pretended to be asleep. An immature move? Maybe. But avoiding difficult situations has always been a skill of mine. I was ‘ghosting’ before it was a trend.

Logan was exhausted last night. She just threw a blanket on the ground before passing out on top of it. I felt sorry for her so, when I was sure she was fast asleep, I moved her to the bed and then slept in the couch.

We’ll have to figure out our sleeping arrangements, but I have a feeling Logan won’t give in until I leave the guestroom and move into Harry’s room.

A part of me wants to compromise. It goes against my principles to have a woman on the floor while I take the bed. But I’ve got to be careful. Though Logan doesn’t feel like much of an enemy, she sure isn’t a friend.

I don’t want to get any closer or reveal any more secrets. Logan’s not the type of woman I can mess around with.

Besides, she’s in love with my brother. Long conversations about my deep-set emotional scars are off-limits from now on.

“Benjamin!”

I hear my father’s voice and lift my head. “Dad.”

Kurt Duncan strides toward me. He’s dressed in a simple blue T-shirt and patterned shorts. Dad’s forty-eight, but he could easily pass for thirty-five. He’s tall and sturdy with bronzed skin and black hair that’s going grey at the temples.

He flips his black sunshades to the top of his head. His blue eyes are grim. “Hello, son.”

“Ben…” Lauren leaps into my arms. I feel something wet against my shoulder and realize she’s crying. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

I take a step back and gently remove her hands. Lauren’s auburn hair is braided down the sides. Curly wisps lift in the breeze and point to her dazzling green eyes. She’s wearing a soft, pink dress. A dainty bracelet adorns her slim wrist, but it pales in comparison to the rock on her finger.

“Are you guys hungry? Should we eat first?”

“I want to see my son.” Dad grabs my shoulders.

On closer look, I realize his age is beginning to catch up to him. Or maybe the stress of Harry’s death is having a bigger impact than I imagined. Fine lines chase the outline of his eyes and lips. Grey hair inches toward his crown.

“I’ll take you.”

Fifteen minutes later, I usher them inside the morgue and wait outside the door. Lauren’s wails burst through the hallway. I pull my lips in as I listen to her agonizing sobs.

Dad and Lauren will have to sort through their own regrets when it comes to Harry. Now that he’s gone, there’s no more hope of reconciliation. No more hope of forgiveness.

Their expressions when they emerge are somber. Lauren’s eyes are puffy and swollen. Dad’s lips tremble slightly. Both of them look ready to collapse at any moment.

I take them to a nearby restaurant though I’m sure that neither of them have an appetite. The day I arrived in Belize, I didn’t feel like eating either, but I’m not suffering from that problem now.

As soon as the waitress arrives, I order the coconut shrimp for myself and then hand her the menus.

“And for you?” she directs the question at Dad.

“I’m not hungry.”

I smile at her. “They’ll have the same.”

She nods and leaves.

Dad folds his hands together. His voice is hoarse, gruff. “This is my fault. I should have done more to reach out to him. I should have put all my effort into searching for him. If I had known he would die like this…”

“Kurt,” Lauren rubs my father’s back, “it’s my fault. I was the one who destroyed your relationship.”

At least she knows.

“There’s… something else,” I say.

Dad’s blue eyes land on mine. “What?”

“Harry had a kid.”

I watch the shock parade across their faces. Hm. Was this what I looked like when I found out about Reece?

“W-what?” Dad sputters.

“Her name is Reece and she’s really smart and mature for her age.” I pull out my cellphone to show them the selfies Reece and I took yesterday after I brought her home from the salon.

Lauren’s eyes go wide when she sees Harry’s daughter. “He had a child? How old is she?”

Dad shoots her a side-eye.

Lauren doesn’t seem to notice. Her fingernails dig into the napkin on the table. She leans in imploringly.

“Reece will be ten soon.”

“Ten? That means right after he left he met someone else and…”

Dad clears his throat. “Why did you bring us to a restaurant then? You should have taken us to meet our granddaughter.”

“I’m a grandma?” Lauren whispers, her voice filled with shock.

“The thing is, Harry didn’t tell Reece or any of his friends about us. She was, understandably, upset when she met me and heard she had an extended family beyond the one that Harry had built here—”

Lauren grabs my hand. “Her mother? Is she here in Belize?”

“No.” I shake my head. “She died in childbirth.”

“Oh.”

Dad arches an eyebrow. “How did he meet someone in the first place? Harry didn’t seem like the type to impregnate some woman he barely knew.”

“They met at a hospital function. As far as I heard, he was deeply in love with her. She mended his broken heart. Gave him a new lease on life. He completely moved on.”

Lauren winces but says nothing.

I’m adding on to the story, but there’s a part of me that desperately wants my lie to be the truth. I also want to see Lauren suffer. So it’s a win-win.

“How did you get that information?” Dad asks.

“A friend.” I straighten when I notice the waitress en route to our table with the drinks. As soon as she sets my beer in front of me, I take a deep swig.

“About this little girl,” Dad says, “what exactly have you told her about us?”

I stare him right in the eyes. “Everything.”

“Everything?” Lauren swallows.

“That her grandparents got married when they were young. They had two kids—me and her dad. Then her grandmother died and her grandfather remarried.” I glance at Lauren. “What did you think I meant?”

Dad’s face turns pink. Since we’re in a nicely air conditioned room, it’s not from the heat. “Do you think you’re funny?”

My mouth forms a thin line. “Did it sound like a joke to you, Dad?”

“Kurt.” Lauren places a hand on his arm.

He looks away. “Who has the child been staying with since Harry… since my son died?”

“Family friends.”

“I want names.”

My gaze sharpens. How like Dad to jump into any situation and start making demands. “You’ll meet them later. They’re with Reece now.”

“You have strangers taking care of family?”

I bristle at his tone. “Those women are the only family she knows outside of Harry.”

“They’re not her blood relatives.”

“Blood… give me a break, Dad. In case you forgot, you were the reason Harry packed up and left. I don’t think he would give a damn that we’re related.”

“Ben!” Lauren hisses.

Dad slams his hands on the table. “Watch your mouth, Benjamin.”

My heart races. I want nothing more than to leave this table, but we’re not here to fight. We’re here to mourn Harry’s death and bury him in the home that he loved. “Logan and Lydia are good people. We can trust them.”

Even if they don’t trust me.

The food arrives and we’re forced to avoid any more spats until the waitress sets the platters on the table and leaves.

Dad clears his throat. “We’re returning to the States tomorrow.”

My eyes snap to his. “You’d miss Harry’s funeral?”

“We’re taking the body with us,” Dad says.

It takes a second for those words to sink in. When they do, my fork clatters out of my hands. “Dad…”

“I already spoke to the coroner and he’s agreed to write the letter we’ll need to take Harry’s body abroad.”

“You can’t. Things like that don’t happen in a day.”

“He was aptly compensated for his urgency.” Dad brushes the surface of his shirt, tossing invisible crumbs. “Of course, those arrangements were made before we found out there was a child involved.”

“We’ll take her back to the States with us,” Lauren says brightly.

“Like hell you are.” I leap to my feet. My chair scrapes the tiles loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners. “You’re not taking Harry’s body or Reece.”

“Calm down, Ben. You’re making a scene,” Dad says in a restrained voice that warns he’s reaching the last of his patience.

My chest heaves. I force myself to return to my seat.

Lauren moves her fork around her plate. “The US is where Harry’s from. It’s where his extended family, his friends, his life was. It’s not fair to host a funeral here when half the people who cared for him, saw him grow up and would like to pay their respects won’t be able to attend.”

“You know what losing my big brother has shown me, Lauren? Condolences mean nothing. Guilt after the fact is total crap. If those relatives and friends had really cared about Harry, they would have made an effort when he was alive. Not now when he’s dead.”

“Ben…”

I throw my napkin on the table. There’s no way I can do this.

“Sit, Benjamin.” Dad growls.

I walk toward the door instead. A thought strikes. I walk back and lean over the table. Dad’s blue eyes, blazing with annoyance, burn into mine.

“One more thing. Harry made me Reece’s official guardian. You want her? You have to go through me.”