‘You’ll be fine,’ Cooper said with a fisted punch to his brother’s shoulder. ‘Ice chips. That’s what you need to do. Feed her ice chips. And don’t forget the back rubs.’
Callum sat back against the soft leather and draped an arm on the back of the sofa. ‘What the hell would you know, Coop?’
Cooper scowled and bit back hurriedly. ‘More than you fucking well do.’
Callum noted the clench in Cooper’s jaw, the tightness in his fingers as he fisted them on his thighs. This wasn’t like Cooper. He knew his brothers’ personalities like the back of his hand. Chris had always been the one to fly off the handle, to make impetuous decisions with his life and limbs, until he’d settled down. Cooper had always been more relaxed. He normally had a surfer’s patience, borne of years of waiting for the perfect wave, but it all seemed to have deserted him today.
Nothing was right with the Malone brothers, it seemed.
‘Whoa, what’s your problem?’ Chris demanded.
‘Me? I don’t have a problem.’ Cooper raked a hand through his longish hair, pushed it back behind his ears. ‘Look, I don’t have much time, so I’d appreciate it if we could get this sorted so I can get on a plane and go home.’
Chris’s shoulders stiffened and he turned an icy gaze on Cooper. Interesting time to decide to be the big brother, Callum thought wryly. ‘Home? Since when is California your home, mate?’
‘Oh, shut the fuck up.’
‘You that busy on the other side of the goddamn world that you can’t stay for a couple of weeks to meet my first child?’
Callum held up a hand. ‘You two. Enough. If you stop with the bullshit we can do this, so you,’ Callum pointed at Chris, ‘can go be with your wife. And you,’ he pointed at Cooper, ‘can fuck off back to the States. All right?’
They heard the tone in his voice and sat back, silent, each with their arms stubbornly crossed.
Callum turned his attention back to the document on the coffee table. He flipped over the first page. ‘The Meadows. He left it to us. We have to decide what to do with it.’
Chris shifted uncomfortably. ‘He left it to all three of us?’
‘That’s what it says,’ Callum said.
A solemn silence descended on them all, as if they’d all realised once again that William Malone was gone. The man they all wished had been a better father was dead, and maybe their sullen silences were an indication they were halfway to realising that whatever had happened, he was the only father they had, in the end.
‘The company is more complicated and will take much more time to sort out, but I thought we should talk now about his home while Cooper’s still in town.’
‘I sure as hell don’t want it.’ Chris stood abruptly and his brothers watched as he strode to the big windows of Callum’s office.
‘Me neither. It’s not my style,’ Cooper said.
‘The wrong continent for you, right?’ Chris’s voice echoed from across the office.
Cooper looked at Callum and said nothing.
‘So,’ Callum nodded. ‘Are we going to vote on it? Who wants to sell?’
The three men thought it over for a moment. Callum didn’t want the place, either. The only happy memories he had of The Meadows were of their mother, and she’d been gone so long they were as indistinct as a ship in the distant ocean. He certainly didn’t want to live in it. He had his Coogee place. Out of nowhere, an image of Ava flashed through his head. He shook it away.
Cooper raised a hand. ‘I vote yes.’
From the window, Chris agreed. ‘That’s a yes from me.’
‘Okay,’ Callum said. ‘I guess that means all in favour.’
*
The sun was setting behind the Harbour Bridge when Callum drove out of the city and home to the beach, to his place of peace and solitude. He needed the refuge after the difficult conversation with his brothers. They’d all been close as kids, but he didn’t feel that anymore, even with his twin. Their all-too-easy decision today to sell The Meadows was something more than offloading an unnecessary piece of real estate. It felt like shattering their family.
He manoeuvred his car down the winding street to his house. Parked out front was a small green car and when he slowed, he saw a square magnetic sign attached to the door: Ava Good Weekend Garden Design. It was olive green with a spindly tree on one side of the words, with Ava’s name at the bottom. And she was sitting in the car.
Fuck it. He’d forgotten he’d arranged to meet her. She wanted to talk over preliminary plans for the design. He pulled up, stopped in line with her door and opened his window. Ava did the same, a businesslike smile on her face.