Step Brother (3 page)

I pulled into the parking lot of my tattoo shop, but before I went inside, I’d made up my mind. Mom wanted to meet me for lunch. She wanted to “mend our relationship,” whatever the fuck that meant. I was willing to give it a shot, but I wanted something in exchange. I wanted the truth about my father, and I was going to get it from her. One way or another, the sun wasn’t going to set without her giving up the truth.

Walking into the shop always made me proud, even in the morning before we were open. Once business hours began, the shop was a mob scene nearly all the time. People think the life of a tattoo artist is easy, and while it ain’t brain surgery, it’s harder than you’d think to actually build a successful business. I’ve known some really talented artists who pissed away money like water. To be honest, I employed some people like that, but I’d been smart. I may not have been the best educated guy, and I might have had a rough childhood, but I knew how to run a business.

“Mornin’, Marla,” I called out after I’d unlocked and relocked the door behind me.

The shop manager came out of the office. “What’re you doing here so early? Your first appointment isn’t until six tonight.”

“What? I can’t stop into my own shop? Maybe I think you’re stealing me blind,” I said with a false scowl.

“What the fuck ever,” Marla laughed.

I grinned back at her. I’d known Marla nearly my whole life, and I trusted her more than any other person on the planet.

“You look tired, Reed,” she said, walking down the hallway, probably heading to make one of the twenty or so cups of tea she drank every day.

“You got any coffee made back there?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question,” she yelled back. “But I’ll start you some.”

She came back out, and I could smell the first few drops of coffee brewing.

“I had a late night. Just came by to shower before I go meet Mom.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said, sitting down to drink her tea. “I’d forgotten that was today. You doing okay?”

“Of course,” I said, not wanting to get drawn into one of Marla’s marathons in which she tried to get me to talk about my feelings. I had too much to think about to get bogged down in her touchy-feely bullshit. “Am I booked up tonight?” I asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to change the subject.

“Yeah. You had a cancellation call in after you left last night, but I’ve put Butch in your last time slot. He wants another hour on his sleeve, as long as you don’t have somewhere to be.”

“Nah, that’s fine. Since he’s my last appointment, think you can let him out of the house for a few hours?”

Butch was Marla’s husband and my best friend. Since they’d gotten married a year or so ago, he hardly ever went out, and I loved to give Marla shit about it. You never know what goes on behind closed doors, but I was pretty sure Marla didn’t keep his balls in her purse. I was happy for Butch that he was happily married, but I missed hanging out with him whenever we felt like it.

“He can go anywhere he wants, jackass.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just fuckin’ with you. I figure after this afternoon, I’ll want to blow off a little steam. It’s either hookers and blow or Butch. I don’t really care which.”

“Well, since I’ll have to kick your ass if you start up with the blow again, I guess I’ll sacrifice my husband for an evening. Just remember, though,” Marla said, standing up straight, making the most of her five foot four inch frame. “I’ll cut your balls off if anything happens to him. We’re clear, right?”

“Crystal,” I answered. “I’m getting coffee, and then I gotta get outta here.”

By the time I was showered and changed, I was going to be cutting it close to get to lunch on time. Mom had told me lunch would start at one, but she wanted me there—wherever there was—early so we could talk privately. She’d been uncharacteristically mysterious about the whole thing, and all I knew was the address I was heading toward was in the ritziest part of town, and she had some kind of surprise. She’d sounded pretty good, like she had her shit together, but you never could tell with Tina.

When I stopped at the guard booth, I gave him my name and the address I was visiting, answered the usual questions about my car, and pulled away. People were always surprised that a tough guy drove an electric car, but that was because they’d never been behind the wheel. I’d test driven everything you could think of, but nothing could match a Tesla.

When I pulled into the drive, I wondered what the fuck my mother was doing at the address of the mansion I was staring at. The long drive curved through a huge overhang in front of the house, and I was pretty sure I’d never set foot in a house as large as this one. Was it possible that she’d taken a job as a maid or something? That was totally not her style, but what the hell else could she be doing here?

I parked in the shade and got out of the car. Before I could even take a step toward the front door, it swung open, and my mom came out, rushing toward me to throw her arms around my neck.

I finally got myself untangled, and I stepped back to take a good look at her. “Mom, you look great,” I said, honestly.

She really did. She was dressed far more casually than I’d ever seen her, and she looked pretty and happy, her long, red hair styled simply and accented by the green tank and skirt she wore. She looked … I don’t know … more relaxed and less high strung than I’d ever seen her.

“Reed, it’s so good to see you, honey. You look wonderful too, but you look a little tired. Are you getting enough sleep? Enough exercise? You should really try yoga. It’s helped me tremendously. I feel like a new person.”

I shook my head, puzzled. “You sound like a new person, Mom.” I couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. Mom had always talked a mile a minute, but the person I was looking at sounded completely different—polished and … rich, I guess, not at all like the Tina Randolph I knew. Mom didn’t use words like “tremendously.” She just didn’t.

“I feel like a new person, sweetheart. I’ve made some changes in my life, and I can’t wait to tell you all about them. I’ve begun to take better care of myself, and well, it’s paid off. Let’s just put it that way.”

“You’ve ‘begun to take better care’ of yourself?” I echoed, mystified. Even her grammar was different. “What the hell has happened to you?”

“Oh, come inside, Reed. We’ll sit down and catch up, and then I have a surprise for you.”

I didn’t even know what to say, or where to begin. “What’s up with the house? Are you working here or something?”

She laughed, and she didn’t sound a thing like my mother, whose infectious, distinctive laugh was the kind that would stop conversation in a crowded bar. This woman in front of me had a rich, deeper laugh that sounded like it belonged at a country club.

“Well, that’s part of the surprise, sweetheart. I live here. This is my house now. Come on inside, and we’ll catch up.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to do or say, so I mutely followed my mother through the wide double doors. Her bare feet slapped the cold marble of the huge entryway, and she turned, closed the door, and took my arm, looking up at me adoringly.

“Reed, I have so much to tell you.” She led me into a room just off the entryway, and she closed the door behind us. “I thought we could meet in my office so we could have a little privacy.”

I hardly looked around the room, as dazed as I was by everything I was taking in. I sat in the chair Mom indicated, and she sat down as well.

“Mom, what the hell is going on? Since when do you live in a mansion and have a fucking office?”

“Since I met and married the most wonderful man two months ago.” She sat back in her chair. “I’m sure you have lots of questions, and I’m ready to answer them.”

“You’re remarried? When did that happen?”

“Well, it happened fast, and I’ll tell you all the details when you meet Donald at lunch time. The short version is that we met and both of us knew right away that we’d met the one. We got married a week later.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Mom winced at my profanity.

“What? I’m assuming this guy’s rich. Do rich people not say ‘fuck’?”

“Of course they do, sweetheart. It’s just that I’ve been working on trying to come across as more polished, less rough around the edges. Donald prefers that I not use profanity, at least not in public. He likes it in the bedroom.”

For a second I saw a glimpse of the Tina I knew, but I sure didn’t want to hear about her sex life. “Don’t want to hear it, Mom. So you married this rich guy, and you’re going to live happily ever after. Great for you.”

“We’re very happy, Reed, and I hoped you’d be happy for me as well.”

I shook my head. “Mom, you’ve always found ways to keep me guessing. I guess this is just more of the same. Congratulations. I think I gotta run. I forgot I had an appointment at noon.” I stood and walked toward the door before I turned to look at her, remembering item number four on the list of things I needed to deal with. “You said you’re ready to answer questions?”

She’d stood as well, and when she rushed to put a hand on my arm, I noticed that her wedding ring was a blinding row of diamonds. “Reed, sweetheart, please don’t go. We’re going to sit down to lunch, and I want you to get to know Donald. His daughter’s coming over too, and she’s your age. I haven’t met her yet, and I could use a little moral support.”

I stood in place and thought. She wanted me there. I wanted information about my father. I was willing to trade. “I’ll stay, but on one condition.”

Mom looked relieved. “Thank you, Reed. What’s your condition?”

“I want you to tell me who my father was, and I want to know how to get in touch with him.”

Mom’s already pale skin went white as a sheet. She shook her head and started to speak, but I stopped her.

“I’m not sure why, but you’ve kept the truth from me for my entire life. That ends today. You’re going to tell me who my father is, or I’m going to walk out that door, and you’ll never see me again.”

“Reed, you have to understand. There were reasons why I never told you. He doesn’t want you to know. He’s a terrible person, and nothing good will come of you trackin’ him down.”

I could tell Mom was upset, as she lapsed back into the speech patterns that were more familiar to me.

“Mom, you’ve told me so many bullshit lies about him that I can’t believe a word you’ve ever said about him. I want his name, and I want to know where he lives—or lived—and I want to know right now.”

“Honey, he’s only gonna break your heart. I won’t let that happen. I’ve protected you all these years…” Her eyes started to fill with tears.

“Cut the waterworks. You tell me right now, or I’m gone.”

She shook her head and looked around the room, as if trying to find some way to escape.

“Now, Mom.”

She slumped down into her chair, as if she’d been deflated, shaking her head. When she finally spoke, her words were too soft for me to hear.

“Speak up.”

“Gordon Gentry,” she said, just barely loud enough for me to hear. “Your father is Gordon Gentry.” She put her face in her hands.

“Not
the
Gordon Gentry?” I said, stunned. I could tell by the way she’d said it, though, that it was
the
Gordon Gentry, the lead singer and guitar player for the Rebels, one of the biggest rock bands in the world. “There’s no way,” I said, completely unable to believe that my father was famous—a man whose face had appeared on
Rolling Stone
more times than I could count.

Face still buried, Mom nodded.

“How the fuck did that happen? How did you even meet him?”

When she raised her head, I was surprised to see dry eyes. “I met him after a show. Your uncle, Mark, worked for a radio station in high school and he got us backstage passes. We hung out after the show, drank, and I slept with Gordon. I found out I was pregnant with you a few weeks later.”

“But how do you know it was his? That I was his?”

“I know,” she answered, shaking her head. “I’d just broken up with my boyfriend a month before, and I wasn’t with anyone else. Gordon Gentry is your father, Reed. Do you understand why I never told you?”

“No, I don’t understand. I mean the man’s rich, and we had fucking nothing when I was growing up. Why didn’t you get child support from him?”

“I did … well, sort of.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Reed, I called Gordon after I found out I was pregnant. It took me weeks of calling his manager before I could finally get him to call me back, but when I talked to Gordon, well, things were complicated. You see, he was married. His wife was pregnant, too, and worst of all, I was underage. He was afraid if he told his wife, she’d leave him and take everything, and he was also afraid he’d be charged with statutory rape or sex with a minor or whatever it is you get in trouble for. He sent me money to cover the rent and to buy you things, but the deal was that you were never supposed to know who your father was. I wanted to tell you, but the money would have stopped, and he could have gone to jail.”

“You let him bully you.”

“Reed, I was seventeen years old, and scared to death. I took the money and tried to be a good mother.”

“Did he never ask about me?”

“I didn’t really talk to him, Reed. Gordon sent a check a few times a year—through his manager, of course—but he didn’t want his marriage to break up because he got wasted one night and knocked up a teenager.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said, sitting down heavily, trying to process everything. In less than an hour, I’d learned my mother had gotten married and was filthy rich, and I’d learned that my father was a famous rock star who’d never wanted me.

“Reed, I’m sorry, honey. I was young and stupid, but you were the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m so glad you’re here, and I can’t wait for you to meet Donald. Your support’s going to mean everything to us during the campaign, and you’ll get to meet your new sister. We’ve even talked about planning a family ski trip for the holidays this year. I never had the money to take you skiing, but Donald has a guy who’s a great instructor. Donald thinks you’ll be zooming down the slopes in no time…” Mom continued to chatter on, clearly nervous, and I completely tuned her out.