Tom Dolby - The Trust

“Patch, I need to tell you something,” Nick said, first looking at Patch, then at Genie. “Actually, I need to tell both of you something. I owe you both an apology.”

Patch frowned. “I don’t understand-what for?”

Nick took a deep breath. “I knew about you and me and the whole brotherhood thing before you did. My father told me about your mother and him and what happened the day after you were initiated on Isis Island. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how to deal with the information. It was too much to handle, and I had to make sure our friendship was solid again. And then everything with Palmer’s challenge-there was just never a good time.”

Patch looked at Nick angrily. “Nick, you could have told me anytime! Can I ever trust you? This is just like last year when you didn’t tell me what was going on with the Society-”

“Boys-” Genie interrupted. “You two have to trust each other. Frankly, you don’t have a choice. And for God’s sake, Patch, I kept that secret from you for nearly seventeen years. You think I didn’t know all that time? You think I didn’t want to tell you, that I didn’t agonize over every moment whether I was doing the right thing? Ever since your mother left, it was in my hands. I kept it from you as well. Nick didn’t tell you for a few months. You need to let it go.”

The platters of small desserts arrived, and the boys picked a few each, choosing miniature raspberry tarts and currant scones with lemon curd.

Maybe Genie was right. Maybe Patch needed to give Nick a break. Nick had tried to do what was right, and he was obviously under a great deal of pressure.

“What I want to understand is, what really happened between my mother and our father?” Patch asked. “Why would she do this? Why would she not have told my father-that is, Patch, Jr.-about it?”

“Your mother was ashamed,” Genie said. “But she wanted to have a child so badly. She and your father were not able to have children, or at least, they hadn’t been successful yet. When she became pregnant, we were all so happy. I had no idea at first. She only told me halfway through the pregnancy. It was a strange piece of news, but in the end, what mattered most was that she and Patch had a son.”

Patch nodded. “But why… why Parker? I mean, no offense, Nick, but he’s such a monster.” A monster, Patch thought, who was his real father.

Nick looked dismayed, though not surprised. He turned to Genie. “I can’t answer that,” he said.

“He was delightful back then,” Genie said. “So handsome and charming. All the ladies flirted with him. And in retrospect, he and Esme seemed to have a curious connection. They hit it off. I think it was only later that your father became-I don’t know the right word-I guess he became nasty, hardened. Maybe Palmer did it to him.”

“And my father knew about it?” Patch asked.

“I believe he found out,” Genie said. “There was a fight between the two of them. It was a terrible time when that happened-it was like two halves of a family breaking apart. And then your father drowned. That weekend was supposed to be a reconciliation. And it never happened.”

“I need to show you something,” Nick said. “Both of you. Genie, you may have seen it, but Patch, I’m not sure if you have. It’s a memorial marker for your father, for Patch, Jr., on the beach.”

“I’ve seen it,” Genie said. “But I think Patch should see it as well.”

“I don’t ever want to go back to that house again,” Patch said. “I’m sorry, Nick. I just feel weird about it, after everything your father has done.”

“I understand,” Nick said. “I’m feeling pretty ambivalent myself.”

“Genie, I want to know more about my mother,” Patch said. “Before she went crazy.”

Genie sighed. “Patch, I feel like it’s not for me to tell you these stories. You never heard back from Esme, did you?” Patch had left her a message but received no response.

“That’s right,” Patch said.

“I think we need to visit her,” Genie said. “I know you don’t want to, but it’s something we need to do. She was always so fearful that you would find out. I think having her know that you have learned about Parker, and that you understand-or at least, that you understand as best you can-I think it might help her.”

“Do you think she’ll ever be able to come home?” Patch asked.

Genie looked uncertain. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess we’ll see. But the first step is for us to go see her. I think we should do that more often, together. I’ve tried to protect you from it all these years, but you’re getting older, and it’s time that we try to make this work. You need to have some kind of relationship with your mother, fractured as it might be.”

“When should we go?” Patch asked. “Today?”

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” Genie said, frowning. “Let’s take a break. How about tomorrow? Let’s do it tomorrow.”

Patch nodded. As he sat there with his grandmother and his half brother in the warmth of the Petrie Court, he started to feel that maybe, just maybe, the disparate threads of his life were coming together.

Nick, Patch, and Genie stepped out of the museum. It was nearing closing time, and tourists were gathered on the sidewalk in front of the Met. The strange, sweet smell of pretzels, kabobs, and roasted chestnuts was in the air.

“You both go ahead,” Nick said. “I want to stay here for a minute.” He sat down on the steps as he watched Patch lead Genie across the street to the building where they all lived.

Nick wondered if he could go back home or if he would have to live at Patch’s for now. He had almost forgotten, but he was scheduled to leave town in a few days. Months ago, before any of this had happened, Nick’s mother had booked him on a college tour, twelve schools in seven days. He should have been excited for this fresh start, but at this moment he wanted to start putting back together the pieces of his life before he embarked on something new. More than anything, Nick longed to buy a ticket to the West Coast, to go and seek out Phoebe. After thinking about everything they had been through, he understood now how much pain she had been in, and how she had spoken honestly, even in the kitchen in Southampton, even when she had said those hurtful things. She had been right: he had put his family ahead of everyone else, ahead of her, and he never wanted to do that again. As much as he wanted to run after her, he understood that he needed to give her the time she deserved to figure things out. He trusted that Lauren would call her, and eventually, she would come back home.

He glanced across the street at his apartment building. The landmarked building had always been an emblem of all that he thought the Bell family represented: strength, tradition, security. Ever since he had learned about the Society, however, and all that it stood for, it had seemed false. Would anything ever seem real again, or would it all seem as flimsy as those Society rituals, cheap theatrical tricks designed to scare people?

His grandfather’s legacy, too, felt false. Palmer had built up a dubious empire, respected by so many, and yet, what was it? Was it anything more than lying, conspiracy, thievery?

Nick walked across the street, carefully taking the crosswalk. As he approached the building, his brother Benjamin stepped out of a black town car. Nick hadn’t realized that he was in town.

“Ben!” he called. “I thought you were in Florida.” He was supposed to be on spring break with some of his college friends.

“I had some business I needed to attend to,” Ben said. This was unlike his brother. His main business in life seemed to be partying with his friends.