May 5, 2022

After last night I was in no mood to deal with anything. I just wanted to stay in bed all day and not have to socialize with anyone. Especially Connor. We had made plans to talk after everyone was interested in the hockey game. Seeing the way he lost his temper with Edward made me less inclined to explain anything to him. The mood he was in, I knew he would not be receptive to whatever I said. I hadn't planned to reconcile with my husband, but I had hoped we could reach an understanding. Be friends, if nothing else.

I lay in bed for a long time after I shut off the alarm I had set. Not that there was anything to look at. Jack's room was barren and boring, just like the rest of the rooms in the warehouse we liked to pretend was home. The only personal items my father had were a Ford key chain hanging on the wall above the dresser and a small photo album stored in the drawer of the nightstand. Curious as I was, I had snooped through the pictures. I was surprised to find quite a few images of me littered in with the photographs of Pete and Clair that filled the pages. Jack had most of my school pictures, along with a few from field trips I had taken or functions I had been included in during my childhood, as well as my high school graduation photo. The picture that had the most wear was one of him holding me as a newborn. Jack had been young then. He had actually been a good-looking man back then – but I still hated that I favored him so much.

Finally, bored of doing nothing, I got up, dressed, did my morning toilet and went downstairs. Pete was already there, a box of glazed doughnuts open on the table. More sugary junk food that I really didn't want. I bypassed breakfast and sat down in the vacant chair next to my brother. Connor and Edward were seated across the table from me. I avoided looking at both of them.

"Morning, sunshine," Pete chirped.

I just groaned at his pleasant attitude. I had never seen Pete in a bad mood. He got aggravated at times, but he recovered quickly. Most everything was a joke to him. His flippant attitude was both refreshing and irritating to me.

Desmond and Jack came out of the office a moment later. Who knew what they were doing in there. I sure didn't. Noticing that I was in the chair he usually used, Desmond went to the other side of the table and sat down next to Connor. Jack took his usual seat beside his son.

In the quiet that followed, Edward sat forward and eyed everyone with a serious expression. "Now that we're all here," he said, "I've got something I want to say."

"If it's about last night," Jack interrupted, "don't bother. What's done is done, Mr. Kenway."

Edward looked at the other man with a slight frown. "Sorry? When you said Mr. Kenway, were you talking to me or Connor?"

Jack made no comment on that. It would be useless to lie now. Apparently, Edward had figured out the truth about his relationship to Connor. He didn't look angry, which was a relief. But he did look annoyed. Insulted, actually.

He glanced at the Native who sat beside him. "I do wish you'd told me yourself."

"I wasn't sure how you would respond. It's...unorthodox, to say the least."

Edward chuckled. "That's one word for it. Still, I'm glad we're family."

That pleased Connor greatly. He didn't display his emotions openly; I doubt anyone else knew what he was feeling. But I knew him well enough to detect the gratitude on his face at Edward's words. He had always felt a kinship to his grandfather. He spoke of him often with admiration and respect.

I couldn't keep from smiling at how touching the scene was. When Edward looked at me, he had the same soft grin on his face as he did when looking at his grandson. "That goes for you, as well, Mrs. Kenway."

The title stunned me. I had never taken the Kenway name. Because Connor had never taken his father's name. He usually disliked it when people referred to him with a surname. He was Connor or Ratonhnhake:ton. But seeing how happy it made Edward to call me by his last name, I nodded. "Thanks, Edward."

Edward looked back at Connor. "Since I managed to botch your birthday yesterday, what say we have a drink tonight to celebrate?"

"That is not necessary."

"Of course, it's not. But it's what men do."

Connor didn't argue with that. He only nodded. Edward was not an easy person to say no to.

"Wait," Pete spoke up. He looked at Connor quizzically. "I thought your birthday was in April."

"No," Connor answered. "It is in May."

"Apparently Abstergo's source for that information was incorrect," Jack said. "I'm not sure why they didn't put more effort into confirming the date before adding it to the profile."

I remembered something from the time Connor had been teaching Abby the months in their native language. If I was correct, it would explain the mix up. I looked at Connor. "What are the Kanien:keha words for April and May?"

"Onerahtokha and Onerahtohko:wa respectively."

I raised a hand at the obvious reason for error. "The translator got the months mixed up. Apparently, they weren't an expert at Mohawk."

Pete looked at me. "Should I tell the Templars to update their database?"

"Are you gonna cite your source?"

"Just let them be wrong," Jack told him. He looked back at everyone else. "Now that that's out of the way, shall we begin our day?"

I groaned again. I did not feel up to shooting today. Guns were loud and smelled terrible. But I still rose with the others and began the walk to the lowest level. Pete held back for a moment, grabbing my arm gently.

"Have you talked to him yet?" he ask in a whisper.

I shook my head. "Later."

Pete's frown was very prominent on his normally smiling face. "Faith, you have got to tell him."

"I will!" I hissed. "Just...not now."

The shrug he gave me was meant to convey Pete's disinterest. It failed. I knew he wouldn't let this go. Not until I talked to Connor. "It's not like you can wait forever," he told me. "Eventually everyone will know."

I hesitated for another second before following Pete. I knew he was right. I had to talk to Connor. And soon. He would be very angry if I waited much longer.

Pushing that from my mind, I walked to the range where Jack was readying the guns. He gazed at me as I stood next to him, crossing my arms and staring at the ground. I was ready to just get this over with.

"My bed not comfortable enough for you?" There was a hint of ire in his voice. He had given me his room so that I would stop moping around lethargically all day. I hadn't. He thought his gesture was in vain.

"The bed's fine," I told him. "I'm just not sleeping well."

Jack loaded the Smith and Wesson and held it out to me. I took it grudgingly. I really hated guns. He knew that. But he insisted I learn to use one. I understood why. It was the twenty-first century. Guns were the weapon of the age. Still, I preferred a bow.

"Too much on your mind?" Jack ask before I could take aim.

I didn't respond. That was exactly the problem. I just didn't want to tell him that. Not because I hated to admit he was right about anything, but because I didn't want to tell him what I was going through. I didn't want to tell anyone. Not until I spoke to Connor.

Jack didn't take the hint when I remained silent. "If you ever need anything -"

"What I need," I cut in, "is a decent meal that doesn't consist of mostly bread."

Despite my gruff tone, he let out a small laugh at the words. "I think we all need that."

I emptied my clip. Most of my shots were clustered within the inner three circles of the target hanging on the tree two yards away. But that was never good enough for Jack. He thought I should hit the bullseye every time. Like he could. Most of my ranged practice revolved around firearms. It was a family tradition. The Wilkinson's were known for their marksmanship.

"Wouldn't it be just as easy to cook as to pick up fast food every day?" I ask.

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook," Jack stated.

"I am." The words were out of my mouth before I could contemplate the meaning. It sounded like I had been offering to feed everyone. I took a moment to wonder if that was what I had implied. It wasn't as if I minded cooking for a large group. I had done it many times. I actually liked to cook. But the gesture conveyed a sense of normalcy I wasn't sure was appropriate.

Making up my mind to do as I wanted instead of what was expected of me, I looked up at Jack. "I can cook."

Jack nodded at me. "If you'd like to make a list, I can go to the grocery later."

"What's the budget?"

Jack smiled. "Don't worry about money."

"Why? Are you rich?" It had been a joke. But the way Jack looked at me dispelled the humor. My mind went to all the surveillance equipment on the compound. All the high-end security measures Jack had in place. Motion sensors, infrared cameras, the digital code pad on the main gate. I had never considered how he had been able to afford such things.

"The Brotherhood is well funded," he told me. That wasn't a satisfactory answer, Jack guessed that by the frown I gave him. With a sigh, he explained. "My mother was a very wealthy woman. When she passed, she left everything to the Order. By doing so, she allowed me to have my inheritance without suffering the resentment she might have felt at herself for cutting off her only child when he came of age."

"You didn't get along with your parents, did you?"

Jack shook his head. "You and I have that in common."

The comment almost made me feel bad. It wasn't that I hated Jack. I just didn't know him. In our time together, I had managed to think of him as my father without the anger that fact had initially made me feel. I was accepting him. I wanted to accept him. I just wasn't there yet.

"Would it be okay if I went to the store with you?" I ask after a moment.

Jack looked at me for a while. Then he nodded. He took the gun from me, ejected the clip and didn't fill it again. "Help me put all this up and we'll go now."

I wasn't sure why that made me smile so much. But it did. It was just a trip to the supermarket, nothing special. But it would mark the first time I had spent alone with a blood relative.

"Are we taking the Mustang?" I ask. Again, a joke. But there was a hopeful note in my voice that surprised even me.

"No," he answered. "We're taking the Expedition."

I was disappointed. But I didn't let him see it.