Fort Hope

Chapter 1

Greg had just lived through yet another distressing period in his life, and as a result, he was emotionally weighed down and more despondent than he had been in a long time. Glum and hung-over, he decided to leave his motel room and find a bar at which he could have a drink with lunch. Luckily for him, there was one right across the street from where he was staying.

You have to talk to that guy over there. He’s hidden the shadows, see?

Greg looked up from the role-playing game he was playing on his smartphone while waiting to be served. His waitress, a slender woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, was pointing a finger at the phone’s screen. Greg was struck by how pretty he found her.

Dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans and a black baby doll t-shirt, the waitress had waist-length, slightly curly sandy brown hair and bright green eyes. Her skin was fair, and her nose was dusted with freckles.

It’s a remake of a game that was only released in Japan, the waitress said. I imported it a few years back. That’s how I know.

Greg clicked the button on the screen that paused the game. Thanks for the tip.

It’s my pleasure to serve, the waitress said, flashing a smile. I’m Emma. Can I get you something to drink?

I’ll take a scotch, neat, he said. Actually, make it a double. And can I see a menu?

I’ll be right back.

The waitress hurried over to the bar, and instead of going back to his game, Greg decided to examine the establishment in which he found himself. The walls were sort of grayish in color, and little in the way of decoration hung from them. The uneven wood floors were darkly stained and looked dirty. Behind the bar stood a stout, elderly redheaded woman with whom the pretty waitress was talking. After a quick glance at his menu, Greg went back to his game. A couple of minutes later, the waitress returned with Greg’s scotch.

Have you decided? she asked.

Greg looked up towards her. How’s the burger?

Best burger in town if you ask me. Of course, if you like your burgers topped with truffles and balsamic reductions, you’ve come to the wrong place.

Who puts truffles on a burger? Greg asked. Is that actually a thing?

In this town it is. A lot of people like them, actually. You’d be surprised.

I’ll have the burger, but don’t put anything fancy on it. I’ll take a pickle slice if you’re feeling generous, Greg said. He downed half of his scotch. Another one of these too, please.

Another double, huh? I should have lunch with you sometime.

Greg gave Emma a closer look, still finding her just as pretty as he initially did.

You probably should, he said. Why don’t you have a drink with me now? It’s not like you have any other customers.

As much as I love a helping of scotch at eleven in the morning, I don’t think the manager would be too happy with me.

Yeah, probably not.

Also, I don’t even know your name, Emma said.

Greg.

Nice to meet you, Greg. What brings you to Tipsy Tim’s?

Other than the name? I guess I’m here because the place looked like a dive from the outside, and I’m in the mood for a dive.

Fair enough. We’re about as close to a dive as you’ll get in this town. Emma cocked her head to the side, and she squinted her eyes as she gave Greg a closer look. Hey, are you from around here?

As far as I know, this is my first time in Fort Hope. Why?

You just look so familiar, Emma said. Like, really familiar.

Emma’s statement caused Greg to take a closer look at her. As he did so, he ran a hand through his short auburn hair.

After a lengthy pause, he said, Funny. You look familiar, too.

Do I?

Did you ever live in Philly?

Nope, Emma said.

Seattle? Greg asked.

Nope. I’ve lived my entire life in North Jersey.

Sorry to hear that, Greg said teasingly.

Emma smiled. Me too, she said. I’ll go put in your order and grab your scotch.

Greg returned the smile and picked his phone off the table. I’ll go back to saving the Kingdom.

Tipsy Tim’s started to fill up with customers around the time Emma brought Greg his burger, so he didn’t have a chance to talk to Emma at any length; however, he couldn’t help but fixate on her. There was something eerily familiar about her, and she just grew more and more familiar every time she stopped by his table. He had absolutely no idea why she seemed so familiar, but it left him a bit disconcerted.

Bored with his game and sleepy from the scotch, Greg paid his tab and left Tipsy Tim’s after finishing his burger. He was distracted when he left, but he wasn’t so very distracted that he didn’t catch sight of the navy blue sedan parked in front of the establishment. It had been there when he entered Tipsy Tim’s. There was definitely someone sitting in the driver’s seat, and Greg thought he caught sight of the person intently watching him as he stumbled across the street and towards his motel.

Chapter 2

Greg had planned to spend the afternoon watching television and catching up on the news, but he didn’t even make it through one half-hour sitcom before falling asleep. He woke up just before five o’clock. Wondering if the place drew a sizable dinner crowd, he entertained the idea of simply going back to Tipsy Tim’s for dinner and drinks. He recognized that it would be strange to go back so soon, and he was disgusted with himself for having slept most of the day away, so he resolved to just go ahead and do the thing he was in Fort Hope to do.

After stopping at a gas station to buy an energy drink, which he chugged in his car, Greg found himself standing in front of a large, Dutch-Colonial-style house in one of the neighborhoods on the outskirts of Fort Hope. It was so unseasonably warm for late October that he didn’t wear a jacket. Even though he was meeting people for the first time, but he had decided to forego dressing up; he was wearing a red V-neck t-shirt, sneakers, and a pair of jeans.

I probably look like a bum, Greg muttered.

He walked up the porch steps and positioned his hand to knock on the freshly painted navy blue door. From the door hung a colorful wreath decorated with miniature pumpkins and ghost figurines.

After a brief hesitation, Greg knocked. I guess I’m doing this, he said to himself.

Greg wasn’t sure what to expect when the door opened. He had no idea who would open it. He was expecting someone that he had never met, but the person who opened the door just happened to be the very person about whom Greg had been thinking on the drive to the house.

Well, this is random, Greg remarked, wondering if he was at the wrong house.

The waitress from Tipsy Tim’s, who was still dressed in her work apparel, stood in the doorway with a hand on her hip.

Hi Emma.

Emma looked more than a little disturbed by Greg’s presence.

"Okay, how did you find out where I live?" she asked.

I didn’t find out anything, Greg said, scratching at his stubbly cheek. I must have the wrong house. Does Roger McCullough live on this street?

He lives here. What’s this about?

No, I must have the wrong house. You said your name is Emma, right? I know Roger has a daughter named Jessica, but–

Emma cut him off. Okay, who are you? she asked, raising her voice slightly.

Greg lightly cleared his throat. I’m Roger’s nephew. Roger McCullough is my uncle.

Well, that’s weird, because he’s also my uncle.

Emma stared at Greg, silently studying him. He stared right back, doing the same.

Can I talk to him? Greg asked.

Uncle Roger! Emma called out. We have a visitor.

This is weird, Greg said. Maybe I should go.

Her eyes wide, Emma shook her head. No. Don’t go, she said. "You’re damn right this weird, and I want to know who you are."

I told you who I am. Roger’s my uncle.

I think Uncle Roger would have told me if he had a nephew, Emma said.

I’m not even sure he knows I exist.

Chapter 3

Four sets of eyes were fixed on Greg, and he was perfectly aware that he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding how uncomfortable he was. As he took a sip from his wine, he tried to come up with a way to gracefully escape from the situation in which he found himself.

How is it I’m just hearing about you now? Emma asked.

Honestly, I didn’t even know that my dad had a brother until pretty recently, Greg said. Growing up, he told me he was an only child.

So how did you find out about us? Roger asked. He had the hoarse voice of someone who smoked heavily at one point.

Greg’s eyes met Roger’s. I was bored one night and couldn’t sleep, so I did some online research into my family tree. When I found out I had relatives I’d never met, I decided I just had to meet you guys, he said. Look Roger, I have no idea why my dad never mentioned you to me. I assume there was some sort of falling out, so if you want me to go, I do understand. It’s just that I don’t have any living relatives on my mom’s side, and she’s also gone…

Roger smiled and reached for the bottle of wine at the center of the table.

I’m glad you’re here, Roger said. Some warning might have been nice, but I’m glad you’re here. He filled his half-empty glass and nudged the bottle towards Ryan. I heard my brother had a son. And when I heard he died, I did consider getting in touch with you. But Ryan and I, our relationship was…

It’s alright, you don’t have to explain, Greg said.

As he swallowed a mouthful of wine, Greg’s eyes scanned the faces of those at the table with him. On his right was Emma, and on his left was his seventeen-year-old cousin Jessica. Jessica looked very much like Greg in terms of coloring; her hair was also auburn and her eyes a similar blue-gray. Her skin was a bit darker than his.

Roger, seated on Jessica’s left, also somewhat resembled Greg; however, Greg was slender, and Roger was stocky, and his hair was finer than Greg’s.

Roger’s wife Sylvia was seated more or less across from Greg. She was a plump woman who appeared to be of Mediterranean descent; she had dark hair and eyes as well as a broad, almost mannish jaw.

After a protracted silence, Greg said, Thanks for the pizza and the wine. Sorry for showing up at dinner-time.

I’m sorry all we had to offer was pizza, Sylvia said.

Greg did not detect a hint of warmth in Sylvia’s voice.

"This is really messed up, Jessica remarked, shooting her father a dirty look. You’ve been lying to me all of my life. Why would you tell me you’re an only child? What else have you been lying about?"

This isn’t the time, Jessica, Roger said.

Jessica studied Greg’s face. Holy shit. I know who you are. That explains the last name McCullough.

Greg lifted his brow as he looked to his cousin. What are you talking about? I have your last name because I’m your cousin.

Jessica grinned. "I know, but you’re the guy that called that senator a boob! she exclaimed. That video was so funny."

Emma almost spit out her wine. What?

I can’t believe you saw that, Greg said.

You were, like, the most famous person on the internet for a couple days! Jessica chirped. That clip was on all the late-night talk shows.

Greg could tell Roger and Sylvia were horrified, and he really couldn’t blame them.

You called a senator a boob? Sylvia asked.

Greg ran a hand through his hair. On television, yeah. He agreed to come on the show I was hosting, and he referred to the Israeli Prime Minister as King, and so I–

What show was this? Roger asked.

It’s this daytime opinion talk show thing in Seattle. It has this rotating panel of hosts. I was an on-air reporter for the station it aired on, so when they were really desperate, they would ask me to be a host.

Impressive, Emma remarked.

Greg couldn’t tell if Emma was being genuine, but she certainly looked amused.

So you called a senator a boob on television? Roger asked.

I did, Greg said.

And then what happened? Sylvia asked.

"Well, I lost that job, which I personally think is crap because it’s sort of a journalist’s job to call out elected officials when they’re being idiots, and the guy is a member of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, so you’d think he’d know better. If I'd called a Republican a boob, I’m sure I’d have gotten a raise and a promotion to lead anchor on the six o’clock news."

So you’re unemployed? Sylvia asked.

Well for now, but it’s not like my career is totally dead, Greg said, staring at the paper plate in front of him on the table. I was offered something in Houston. I have a couple of meetings next week in Manhattan, and I’m optimistic about my chances of getting something soon.

Roger stood suddenly. Greg, I’m going to have to leave you for about a half-hour. I have a business phone call I need to make.

You have a business phone call to make at 7:30 at night on a Friday?

I have a coworker in Shanghai.

What do you do, exactly? Greg asked.

I’m a patent lawyer for Langley Enterprises, Roger answered, looking over at this wife. Sylvia, will you help me with something?

Sylvia also stood. Of course.

Sylvia and Roger made their way into the foyer and up the stairs, leaving Greg alone with Emma and Jessica. Greg reached for the wine bottle and refilled his glass.

Well, I’m going out, Jessica said, standing. Sorry I can’t stick around, but I made my plans before I knew I’d meet a cousin I was never told about. Greg, will I see you again?

We’ll see, Greg said, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Roger and Sylvia went. I think the odds are fifty-fifty at this point.

Oh, let me get a picture with you! Colin will find it totes funny that I’m related to you.

Colin? Greg asked.

Her boyfriend, Emma said.

Without waiting for Greg’s permission, Jessica whipped out her cell phone and posed next to Greg; she snapped a picture using the phone’s camera.

Cool, Jessica said, examining the picture. "This is so going on Facebook. Emma, will you let my parents know I left? I don’t want to interrupt their conversation about, you know, whatever."

Greg noticed Jessica’s eyes on him; he was clearly the ‘whatever’.

Yeah, be good, Emma said.

Always! Jessica exclaimed, heading towards the front door.

After Jessica left, Greg and Emma sat in silence for a while. Greg had absolutely no idea what to say.

Chapter 4

Jessica didn’t actually leave her house; instead, she snuck upstairs to listen in on her parents’ conversation. She couldn’t see what they were doing, but their words were clearly audible from her bedroom.

I don’t want him in my house, Roger! Sylvia exclaimed.

Keep your voice down. He’ll hear you, Roger said.

"I don’t care if he does. Why did he have to show up here?"

He’s my nephew, Sylvia.

A nephew you don’t know at all. He’s the son of a brother who has been dead for almost a decade and you haven’t seen a quarter century.

I know where you’re going with this, Sylvia, but Thomas was the monster, Roger said. Ryan was not a monster.

Who knows what he became? We have no idea.

Be that as it may, what does it have to go with Greg?

The apple generally doesn’t fall too far from the tree, Sylvia said.

That’s not fair.

Roger, your nephew is a complication we don’t need in our lives, Sylvia said. And what’s this about insulting a senator on television? He’s not a good example for Jessica. Or Emma!

Emma’s not much younger than he is, Roger said. I don’t think she’ll be looking up to him as some sort of role model.

What if they start dating?

Sylvia, this isn’t a big deal. He’ll probably be gone within the week.

Can you be sure? Sylvia snapped. How can you be sure of anything, Roger? I just want the past left where it is. In the past.

"That’s where it will be left, Sylvia. I don’t know why you think Greg is going to complicate things so much."

He’s going to start asking questions…

If he does, I’ll just make something up.

That’s your plan? Sylvia asked. You’re just going to make something up?

"I will handle this, Sylvia."

Call Alex, Sylvia urged. He’ll see things my way.

Fine. I will, Roger muttered.

The conversation ended at that point; Jessica could hear her father leave his bedroom and make his way back downstairs. She didn’t know exactly what to make of the conversation, but it left her even more intrigued by her previously unknown cousin.

Chapter 5

Emma laughed into her wine glass. It’s admittedly hilarious and very ballsy, she said. But now you don’t have a job.

Eh, I’ll get another, Greg said. I’ve got enough saved to tide me over for quite awhile. I wouldn’t mind moving to Houston if it comes to that. I think I’d look good in a cowboy hat.

I agree, Emma said, studying Greg’s face.

Greg reached for the wine bottle, but it was empty.

Would it be rude to open another bottle of Roger’s wine? he asked.

Emma gulped down the rest of her wine and stood.

It’d be rude if you did, but I live here, she said.

Greg kept his eyes on Emma as she made her way to the wine rack above the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle. She set the bottle on the beige granite countertop and started to rummage through a nearby drawer.

Okay, so explain it to me again, Greg said. Who are you, exactly? You’re Sylvia’s niece, but you’re adopted?

I was adopted when I was two by Sylvia’s older sister and brother-in-law, Emma said, taking a corkscrew out of the drawer. My birth mom died of cancer, and then when I was sixteen, my adoptive parents died in a car accident. My adoptive mom was Sylvia’s sister, so Roger and Sylvia took me in. They never adopted me ‘cause of my age, but they’re sort of like parents to me.

But we’re not actually related?

Not as far as I know, Emma answered, twisting the cork out of the wine bottle. Why, are you thinking about asking me out?

I think you know I was. You don’t meet a cute girl who likes nerdy video games every day.

Emma poured Greg some wine and took her seat next to him.

So why didn’t you get my number at the bar? she asked. Fortune favors the brave, McCullough.

I figured I’d just go back in a day or two, Greg said. Much less creepy that way. I was definitely thinking about it during lunch. All things considered, I guess I’m pretty glad I didn’t…

Emma took a sip from her wine. It probably would have made tonight even weirder.

Yeah.

You do sort of look like Roger, Emma said. That’s definitely why I thought you looked familiar.

Now I need to figure out why you look familiar to me.

I can’t help you there, Emma said. As far as I know, we’re strangers.

Well, we were, but not anymore, Greg said. We’re family now, apparently.

With a smile, Emma extended her hand towards Greg’s and clinked her glass against his.

To family, she said.

Greg smiled back, and it was at that moment Roger returned to the kitchen.

I see we’re having more wine, Roger remarked, moving towards the spot where he had been sitting and picking up his glass.

How was your business call, Uncle Roger? Greg asked.

Short, Roger said. Just the way I like–

A buzzing sound came from a black clutch on the counter.

That’s me. Emma went over to the clutch and pulled out a phone; she almost immediately started texting someone.

Anyway, all is well, Roger said. Greg, you never mentioned how long you’d be in town for.

Greg looked away from Roger and over to Emma; he wondered if she was texting a boyfriend and felt a twinge of jealousy.

I guess not very long, Greg said.

Oh?

Greg looked back to Roger. Actually, I should probably just go.

You don’t have to–

It’s fine, I know this is weird. After gulping down the rest of his wine, Greg stood up and pushed in his chair. I’m going to call a cab, though. Is it okay if I leave my car parked out front? I’ll pick it up in the morning.

Of course, Roger said. I can pick you up tomorrow if you want. Where are you staying?

The motel across the street from Emma’s bar. You know the one with the sign that says ‘Motel’? I’m not even sure the place has a real name.

I’ll pick you up, Roger said. Is nine-thirty okay?

You don’t have to. I don’t have any problem with–

Emma interrupted. Greg, do you want to come out with me and my friend Rachael? I mentioned you in a text, and now she wants to meet you.

Emma, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Roger said. Greg’s probably tired.

Both Greg and Emma gave Roger a strange look.

It’s barely nine, Greg said. Why would I be tired? He looked towards Emma. Where are we going?

Chapter 6

When Greg and Emma stepped out of Roger’s house, he was surprised to see a stretch limousine parked behind his silver SUV.

That’s our ride, Emma said.

After