The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Gavin

E very instinct warred against what Gavin was about to do. Despite the preparation with his therapist, no amount of rehearsed visualizations could ease his discomfort. His mind pleaded with him to turn around. His stomach lurched in a nauseated protest. His throat refused to swallow without conscious effort. Still, he climbed the decrepit steps of the old farmhouse because he needed to reckon with the past to change his future.

The cough that had been plaguing Gavin these past two weeks reappeared at the top of the steps, the tiny bit of exertion setting him off again. He gripped the door handle as his body doubled over and began shaking. Each hacking breath caused a fresh sting to slice through the raw flesh at the back of his throat. He tried some of the calming breathing techniques he’d been practicing, which provided some relief.

Like a grim reaper, Gavin glided into the kitchen where his brothers and mother were gathered, as he’d requested. Gilbert’s grin froze on his face. Gareth’s arm stayed, mid-air, as he was about to take a drink. Gabe’s mouth hung open with a fully loaded nacho chip poised to be eaten. At least there would be snacks.

“Gavin.” His mother reacted first and pulled him into a hug.

“Hey, Mom.”

“What the hell is going on, man?” said Gareth.

“Hey, give him a minute to breathe. You want a beer?” said Gilbert.

Gabe stayed silent, studying him .

“No, thanks. Gareth’s right, I have something I need to tell you all. I’d rather get it done.” He gestured to the table and they took their seats. Gavin stood, resting his hands on the back of the chair at the head of the table where his father had sat.

“Gavin?” Gladys prodded. “Is everything alright?”

A trickle of sweat dripped between his shoulder blades. “We need to talk about Dad. And his finances. Our finances.” Chairs creaked as his family shifted in their seats, eyes still glued to him. His brothers’ faces ranged from concern to frustration.

“I wasn’t fully truthful after Dad died.” Gavin swallowed his hesitation. “Mom, did you know about Dad’s gambling debts?”

The shock on his mother’s face told him all he needed to know. “I know early on in our marriage he gambled, but he’d put all that behind him.”

Gavin nodded, hating that he not only had to unearth his actions, but to burst the bubble of trust that his parents held as well. “His gambling didn’t stop. When I met with the lawyer after he passed, there were several outstanding loans. The house had been re-mortgaged.” He tamped down the memory, trying to stay present. “His life insurance had been pared down and barely covered the funeral costs.”

“I don’t understand…” Gladys said on a bit of a laugh.

“I don’t either,” Gilbert piped up. “What are you trying to tell us?”

“That I’ve been footing the bill for the family these past ten years, and I can’t keep doing it. My income is gone. And the house is falling apart.”

“Footing the bill how, Gavin?” came Gareth’s rumble.

Gavin ran through the list of actions, feeling ashamed of the ridiculous lengths he’d gone to in order to keep this from them. “I set up auto-deposits to Mom’s chequing account for her ‘pension’, I paid your tuition fees from imaginary ‘RESPs’, I paid down the loan sharks with whatever savings I could scrimp up early in my career. The house’s mortgage has been repaid too. I was hoping, with my promotion, I’d have enough for the renos we need but…” He swallowed. “I quit my job.”

“You quit your job?” Gareth asked.

His mother’s face paled. “Why didn’t you tell us, Gavin?”

Gilbert licked his lip and tilted his head. “Is that why you freaked out every time I asked Mom for rent money?”

Gabe still studied him. He didn’t seem surprised.

“Why, Gavin?” Gladys repeated.

“Part of it was a desire to shield you all from the truth. I didn’t want to taint your memory of Dad, especially as we had all been so blindsided by his death.” He gulped in another breath. “But the truth is, I was afraid to admit that I may have caused his heart attack.”

“Gavin, that’s ridiculous,” his mother squeaked out. “Only Gabe was home when—”

Gavin plowed through the interruption. He needed to admit it all. “Dad’s debts were substantial, but he was managing them—up until three weeks before his death, when I called home and asked him for a loan. I said it was for school, but it was because of my own gambling. I think I re-ignited Dad’s problem gambling. And from what Gabe told us about his death, I think that’s what he was doing when he had his heart attack.”

Gabe’s face went slack. He gave a sombre nod, confirming all of Gavin’s worst fears. “I closed the screen before the paramedics got there.”

Gavin pulled out the chair and sat before his legs gave out, running his hands through his hair, head bowed in shame.

“You gamble?” Gilbert asked him, jaw dropped.

“Gambled. Past tense.” He knew he still shared the same urges that his father had. “I haven’t since the Christmas after dad died. Gareth had dropped out of school, and you were upset with me about not giving you the money for a ski trip. Money I didn’t have, by the way, I wasn’t lying.” Gilbert nodded at him, face pale. “I managed to lose the meagre savings I had in that one night and decided never to gamble again.”

“You should have told us,” Gareth said.

“I can’t believe you managed it for so long,” Gilbert muttered in disbelief.

“Gavin, you didn’t kill Dad,” Gabe whispered.

He’d wanted to hear those words, but knew he didn’t deserve them. He wiped away the wetness at his eyes. “If I hadn’t—” His voice broke. He had so many regrets, and trying to conceal them had only led to more.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Gabe said. “A heart attack like that, he likely had a pre-existing condition that may have been exacerbated by the stress of gambling, but it doesn’t erase his actions. He could have sought help for his challenges or talked to Mom about it. It wasn’t your fault.”

“The curse,” Gladys said, “Gordon was always so stubborn about sharing things. He didn’t want anyone to see that side of him. I thought—” She shook her head but didn’t say anything else.

“Well. I’m glad I’m not the biggest screw-up in the family anymore.” Gilbert beamed.

“Gilbert!” his mother admonished.

“What? Too soon?”

“Thank you for telling us.” Gladys’s eyes brimmed with tears. “What…” She shook her head again. “Before we sort out this mess—are you alright? You said you quit your job?”

Gavin nodded.

“What happened? Are you still seeing Sabrina?”

Gavin exchanged a quick look with Gilbert before saying, “No.”

“Wait, the tarot card reader?” Gareth inquired.

“We’ll fill you in later,” Gabe said.

Gavin didn’t want to talk about work. Or Sabrina. Or the massive gaping holes both were causing in his life. It was time to start rebuilding things—literally. The right way. Together .

“If we can get back to the topic: we’re not in a terrible place financially, but the house needs significant renovations, especially with mom’s surgery coming up.”

“I have some money saved—” Gareth said.

“It won’t be enough,” Gavin said, “and it’s not a useful investment.”

“So only your money was good enough, is that it?” Gareth slammed his hands on the table.

“I have absolutely no money,” Gilbert said, still smiling.

“What I mean to say is, it doesn’t make sense to keep investing large sums into the house when only Mom lives here now. The upkeep is too much.”

His mother’s eyes went wide. “I don’t want to move—”

“No way, we can’t sell the place,” Gabe said, equally panicked by the suggestion.

“If you’ll listen—I have another idea.” It had come from something Sabrina had said about the house. “It’s a risk. But I think it’s a way to preserve our home and Dad’s legacy without financially maiming us.” In fact, they may even be able to make money from the venture.

Because this place—and his life—needed a refresh from the ground up. Because maybe if he played his cards right this time, he’d have a brighter future, one that included a five-foot-nothing beam of sunshine. “I have a plan,” he said, with more confidence than he felt—fuelled by hope, love, and the audacity they just might make it work.