January Meme Day 5
Seb gave me "bound by blood." These are Danny and Michael's half-brothers.
"No," Jared said. His voice was final.
Elliott sighed, and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "He's our brother, Jared," he said. "Whether you like it or not."
"I don't," Jared said, "and he's not. Are you really that gullible, Elliott? Dad's been dead for forty-eight hours and this, what, long-lost kid comes out of the woodwork? He's just here for the money."
Ha, gullible, as if Jared wasn't just as gullible in different ways. Elliott shook his head. "I looked him up," he said. "On the internet. This guy's a successful travel writer, he doesn't need Dad's money. And he's not in the will. He knows that. I told him."
"Great," Jared said. "So he's coming to contest the will. Why the hell else would he show up now?"
"Because he wants to say goodbye to our father?" Because he wants to make sure the old bastard is dead, Elliott thought, but didn't say. "I don't know. Look, he's got the right to be there."
Jared scowled. "And, what, you're gonna tell Mom this? 'Oh, by the way, Dad had some mysterious second family?"
"First, technically," Elliott said. Michael Sierbenski was a good fifteen years older than either of them.
"Whatever," Jared said. "He had some other wife and some other kid and she's just got to accept that random kid-- that Dad never mentioned-- is coming to the funeral now?"
Elliott was suddenly, overwhelmingly tired. "I don't know what she's going to do," he said. "I don't know what you're going to do. But I already told him when and where the funeral is. If he wants to come, he's going to, and there's nothing either of us can do about it."
This entry is crossposted at http://bookblather.dreamwidth.org/415443.html. Please comment over there if possible.
"No," Jared said. His voice was final.
Elliott sighed, and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "He's our brother, Jared," he said. "Whether you like it or not."
"I don't," Jared said, "and he's not. Are you really that gullible, Elliott? Dad's been dead for forty-eight hours and this, what, long-lost kid comes out of the woodwork? He's just here for the money."
Ha, gullible, as if Jared wasn't just as gullible in different ways. Elliott shook his head. "I looked him up," he said. "On the internet. This guy's a successful travel writer, he doesn't need Dad's money. And he's not in the will. He knows that. I told him."
"Great," Jared said. "So he's coming to contest the will. Why the hell else would he show up now?"
"Because he wants to say goodbye to our father?" Because he wants to make sure the old bastard is dead, Elliott thought, but didn't say. "I don't know. Look, he's got the right to be there."
Jared scowled. "And, what, you're gonna tell Mom this? 'Oh, by the way, Dad had some mysterious second family?"
"First, technically," Elliott said. Michael Sierbenski was a good fifteen years older than either of them.
"Whatever," Jared said. "He had some other wife and some other kid and she's just got to accept that random kid-- that Dad never mentioned-- is coming to the funeral now?"
Elliott was suddenly, overwhelmingly tired. "I don't know what she's going to do," he said. "I don't know what you're going to do. But I already told him when and where the funeral is. If he wants to come, he's going to, and there's nothing either of us can do about it."
This entry is crossposted at http://bookblather.dreamwidth.org/415443.html. Please comment over there if possible.