As I looked around the yacht, I had to wonder: was Will a billionaire or something? My mom wasn’t wealthy. I could remember growing up and for weeks eating nothing but Ramen Noodles, macaroni and cheese, and hot dogs. I could feel a twinge of jealousy in me, not begrudging that they had so much, but disappointed that I came from almost nothing. I wouldn’t have traded a day with my mom for all the nice cars and beautiful boats in the world, but I had to wonder why my mom never contacted Will to tell him about me. He could have surely helped enough so that we could have had better food. I couldn’t think of any good reason for us to struggle the way we had. Now that she was gone, I’d never be able to ask her why.

We climbed onto the yacht, and an employee from the club untied the ropes and handed them up to Brent. “Mr. Strayer, good to see you again.”

“Hi, Josh, any chance you wanna ride along today?”

Josh blushed at the offer, “Thank you, Mr. Strayer, but I’m working today.”

“Oh, come on. I’ll go in and clear it with your boss. It’ll be fun.”

“Mr. Strayer, thanks, but I’ll have to decline. Besides, you’ll need me here to tie her off when you return.” Josh gave a kind of salute with his hand, and turned to walk away. We powered out into the harbor, headed for blue water, with Beau at the helm. As stifling hot as it had been when we got out of the car, the breeze out on the open water was wonderful.

I’d gone to school with kids like my brothers – at least from the wealth perspective. But there was something about these five: they were almost magnetic. Aside from their obvious good looks, their demeanor was welcoming, their words to others were thoughtful, and each looked others in the eye when they spoke. In a word, they were “genuine,” not at all like the pompous stuffed shirts I’d become accustomed to tuning out.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, telling stories of stunts they’d pulled when they were younger. Each seemed to tell a story that was more brazen than the last – laughter erupted in all directions with each new story. I tuned out for a while, wondering if any of this could seriously be real. I found myself wishing for a way to let my mom know that I was going to be okay. I’d miss her for the rest of my life – but something I never thought possible, until that moment, I was no longer alone. Beau was the sweetest, his eyes were kind; whenever someone spoke, he looked them square in the eye, giving them his full attention. Bruce seemed to be the comic with an easy smile that reached all the way to his eyes. Bart was the quietest of the five, happy to be Bruce’s audience. Ben wore glasses and had an intelligent look about him, but barely spoke more than Bart. Brent was by far the most outspoken; he was the youngest and seemed to be comfortable being the center of attention.

When I tuned back in I heard Bruce saying “... then Dad said, ‘I’m sorry, Your Honor, I’m sure my son was temporarily insane. He gets it from his mother’s side of the family.’ Of course, Mom was right there beside him, and she glared at him pretty good. Remember that time when he melted down her best silver to make doubloons for a scavenger hunt at Halloween? Yeah, she glared at him just like that! Then he said to the judge, ‘I can assure you, he will not display such poor judgment in the foreseeable future.’ I was staring up at the judge, praying it would just be a fine or maybe Dad could buy a fire truck or something for the town and all would be forgiven, you know? The next thing I heard was, ‘Mr. Strayer, I understand sons can be a handful, but there are to be no concerts without the proper permits. Even with proper permits, they are not to host, encourage, or sponsor wet t-shirt contests in the courthouse square. Am I clear?’”

Beau jumped in, “You know why you got busted, right? The judge’s daughter was one of the girls you sprayed down, and I heard pictures of her got posted on Facebook.”

All five brothers were laughing at Bruce’s story. I had missed the first part and wasn’t sure about asking Bruce to repeat the beginning. It was obvious that these five were no angels. After I don’t know how many stories, Beau asked, “So, tell us about California. Do you have a boyfriend?”

I smiled and shook my head, “No, no one special.”

He dramatically wiped his forehead, “Well, that’s a relief. We were all worried we were going to have to fly out and give him the big brother talk.”

I was confused, “Big brother talk?”

“You know the one, ‘If you hurt her, I’ll hunt you down.’ That type of brother talk.”

“Well, you can rest easy. No need to hop on a plane anytime soon. I dated a guy for a while, but we broke up a few months ago. No big deal.”

Brent looked shocked when he confirmed, “You broke up with a guy?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t some epic romance or anything.”

Brent asked again, “You dated him and then broke up?”

Surprised by his sudden interest, I could only answer, “Well, yeah.”

“What happened to him?”

I laughed, mostly because Brent had a way of looking so serious. “Happened to him? Nothing, it was mutual. We just weren’t cut out for each other.”

Beau must have noticed the strange reaction in Brent because he said, “Geeze Brent, it isn’t a big deal. People date.” I couldn’t help but notice Beau’s emphasis on the word people, and he gave Brent a look that told them all to leave it alone. I got a weird feeling that there was more to the question that Brent wanted to ask, but after Beau shut him down, he never circled back to the topic.

We spent another hour together before we pulled back into the slip. Josh was waiting on the dock as Brent tossed him the rope, and he had us tied off before Bart had cut the engine. We’d only been out for a couple hours, but the rocking of the water, maybe the sea air, the heat or the sun beating down had me worn out. Josh offered me a hand onto the pier and asked, “Did you have a good time, Miss?”

“I did, thanks for asking.” Josh was handsome in a geeky way. He was about my height, just slightly shorter, light green eyes, and deep tanned skin — no doubt his golden bronze skin was the result of working outside all day.

Brent, of the five, was the closest to my age and was the brother who had talked the most to me since my arrival. Brent stepped off the boat behind me as Josh asked, “Miss, which Mr. Strayer was your escort today?”

Josh winked at Brent, logically making the assumption that if he trailed me getting on and off the yacht that I must have been his date. Brent didn’t miss a beat, “Josh, I should have introduced you earlier. This is our little sister, Camille. She’s visiting this week from California.”

Josh gave a slight bow, “Miss Strayer, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I held out my hand, “If I can call you Josh, the least you can do is call me Camille, or better yet, Cami.”

“Sorry, Miss Strayer, house rules.” A part of me thought I should correct being called, “Strayer,” but my new family was obviously well-engrained in the community. I was, after all, the illegitimate little sister: no sense giving people anything to gossip about. I gave Josh an awkward smile and followed Brent down the pier.

As we climbed into the car for the trip to the house, I felt the softness of the leather seats, the cool air blowing on me after being out on the ocean in the heat of the day. I had flown all night and was more tired than I realized. The excitement should have kept me from dozing off, but I must have completely passed out in the car.

I awoke in a brightly colored bedroom, a sunny yellow color on the walls, darkness clouding the windows. I had been sleeping in the softest bed I’d ever felt, wrapped by a four-poster mahogany frame. The room was meticulously decorated, from the beautifully framed prints on the wall to the fresh flowers on the dresser. I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe the time: it was 10 p.m.

“Camille?” A low, gentle voice asked.

I looked off to my left to see someone sitting on the other side of the room, on what I was sure was an antique loveseat. I sat up quickly, realizing that today hadn’t been some amazing dream. I was really in South Carolina and had spent the day with my five brothers. The room was dimly lit with two lonely lamps illuminating the room. I couldn’t be sure who was sitting across the room, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes. Everyone had been so welcoming that I wasn’t creeped out by someone sitting there in the dark. I answered, “I guess I was more tired than I realized.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I trust the boys were tolerable today?”

It was my father, right here in the flesh. I knew from the way he asked the question. My heart began racing, pumping so fast I thought it might beat right out of my chest. I sat up a little straighter, realizing this was really the day I had waited for my whole life. Trying to keep my enthusiasm under control, “They were great. You didn’t mention them when we talked yesterday.”

We had coordinated every aspect of the trip by email and phone. I’d talked to him several times, but he never once brought up that he had sons, that they would be picking me up, or entertaining me. As I watched him sitting on the love seat, questions flooded into my mind: Why didn’t you tell me about them? What’s your wife think about me staying in your house? Why did you have an affair with my mom? Why did she never tell me about you?