Love Handles by Gretchen Galway Page B

he was some big, loving guy—”
    “And then you were born. The great man sent a card,” he said. “For your birthday, two and a half years later.”
    “I’m not defending him,” she said, though she was. “People change. Especially in their old age.”
    He grimaced. Anderson Lewis was hostile to reminders of his own mortality. “You might think that’s no big deal now since you don’t have children of your own. But some day you will—” She opened her mouth and he waved his hand between them. “—And if you don’t, it’ll be a damn waste.”
    She smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
    He raised one white eyebrow and shoved a large bite into his mouth. “My point is, your grandfather did have children, which should have triggered some human feeling. But no. The year before your mother and I started, uh, dating,” he said, “your grandmother died. He'd never been much of a father, working all the time, but it got worse. I’m sure that’s what drove your mother to chase after some poor dope who didn't even know she was in high school.” He flicked his temple with an index finger. “Then she got pregnant. Barely seventeen, her mother recently dead, and Daddy kicks her out of the house. Of course I had to take care of her. And then two kids. She never forgave him.”
    It was never easy to hear the same, bitter story. Too young and poor to start a family, her parents had divorced before Bev was in preschool.
    “What happened with Ellen? Everyone talks about her like she's pure evil or something, but she was even younger than Mom.”
    “Took her father's side. Called Gail a slut, hid in her room, didn't unlock the front door.”
    “But she was just a teenager,” Bev said.
    Her father shrugged. “Whole family loves to nurse a grudge.”
    Sadly, it was true. Bev didn't understand it—why fight with the only family you'd ever have? “He left me a picture of my grandmother, through the lawyer.”
    “Sounded like a nice lady,” Anderson said. “I bet he didn’t appreciate her any more than he appreciated your mother, or you and Andy.”
    Or Kate, she thought, though Anderson didn’t know Bev’s half-sister very well. “But he did leave her the house. And, of course, left me the company.”
    He dropped the remains of his burrito on the plate. “And for Andy? The one who could actually do something with a business? No, Bev. He was just stirring up trouble, probably to teach Ellen a lesson. Make her work for it a little harder. If he could have figured out a way to prevent you from profiting in the end, he would have.”
    Bev looked away, out to the parking lot where a woman was strapping a pug into an infant car seat. “Why do you think I couldn’t do it?”
    “Know what? I’m getting Andy on the phone.” He pulled out his cell and slid his thumb over the screen. “First you’re mad because you think I want you to go into business, and now you’re mad I don’t.”
    “I just wonder why you think I can’t. Like it’s totally impossible or something.”
    He wasn’t listening. “Sorry to bother you, son. Got Bev here. She’s having delusions of grandeur. Fashion executive. Yeah, I know—” he paused, listening, and raised his eyebrows at Bev. “She’s sitting right in front of me.” He held out the phone.
    Bev frowned and made no move to take it. “I didn’t say that.”
    Anderson jabbed the phone at her. “Listen to your brother.”
    Listen, not talk. She took it. “Hi Andy.” A couple years older, Andy had grown up cheerfully protecting her from all the insults and disappointments of life. She’d been quiet and sensitive; he’d been loud and tough. They were a balanced pair. Sometimes it had worked too well, locking them into habits with each other that were hard to change.
    “Hey,” Andy said. “Are you nuts?”
    “Dad’s got it all wrong,” she said. “I was only talking about my options.”
    “One of those being nuts?”
    “Andy,” she said, then raised her voice to be