“What was that?” asked a genuinely curious Nash.
Temple held up his scarred arm. “He told me he was the one who suggested to Steers that she give me this little souvenir.”
“Damn, your own father?”
Temple glanced at him. “But the thing is, Dillon, my dad told me that Steers had originally wanted to kill me, for some mistake she claimed I made. And maybe I did. So. . .so my old man suggested that she just hack up my arm instead.” He stopped talking and stared down at the Irrawaddy.
“So your father saved your life, Rhett. That means he must have—”
“What?Lovedme?” said Temple, with a snort tacked on. “No, he didn’t love me, Dillon. But I guess he didn’t want me to get murdered by that woman, either. In his mind it probably would have made him look bad. And we couldn’t have that, could we?” He stopped talking for a moment and then reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and produced a photo. He handed it to Nash. It was a picture of a lovely woman in her forties with abundant brown hair, hazel eyes, and a warm smile, who resembled Temple.
“That’s my mother, Amanda. I lied to you before. I came up with the name for Mindy’s daughter.” Temple looked out to the water, his expression unlike any Nash had ever seen on the man. It was reflective, somber, containing depth, all things he had never associated with Rhett Temple before.
“She was a wonderful person, loving, nurturing, to me and my little sister. But my half-sister Angie’s mom? She took off when Angie was a little girl, and Angie had serious developmental issues. And my dad didn’t like that one bit, let me tell you. You see, he never understood Angie, never. But when my mom married him? Well, she took care of Angie, really wonderful care, like Angie was her own flesh and blood. And she taught me to always do the same. And. . .and I have, because, well, other than my mother, Angie’s probably the only person I ever really loved.” He drew a long breath, glanced at Nash with an embarrassed expression, and said, “Jesus, I know, TMI, right?”
“It’s okay, Rhett,” said Nash quietly. “It speaks well of you.”
Nash had met Amanda Temple several times before she and her husband had divorced. He had liked her, a lot, and wondered how such a nice, kind, and loving person could be married to a man who was none of those things.
Temple looked back at the water swirling past. “I. . .I guess I always connected with Angie on certain levels. And I think I know why. Wanna hear my theory?”
Nash nodded, absolutely amazed by this string of personal revelations. “Yes, I do.”
“Because neither one of us ever grew up. Angie couldn’t. And I guess I wouldn’t. It gave us sort of a bond.” He wagged his head, as though trying to swirl around all the thoughts running through his mind. “When my father was going through financial hell he was panicked, out of his depth, raging at everyone. But my mom stood by him. Even when it looked like he was going to lose it all. Hell, she even went out and got a job. It was more symbolic than anything. She couldn’t exactly earn the billions of dollars that he needed. But she did it. And then when he got back on top—with Steers’s help—do you know what he did?”
“What?”
“He dumped my mother. Divorced her. Fought her tooth and nail in court over every dime. Worried and depressed her so much that. . .that she ended up taking her own life.”
“My God, Rhett, I’m so sorry.” And Nash truly was sorry. He had never heard this story before.
“My dad covered it up, of course. Accidental overdose. But I know better. She saw me right before she did it.”
“Did she tell you that. . .?”
He shook his head fiercely. “No. I would have stopped her. I would have . . .” He glanced at Nash. “I loved my mom. She was. . .everything to me.”
“But you still ended up working for your father?”
Temple’s expression turned grim and then resigned. “Yeah, after all that. Money-grubbing SOB that I am. Daddy had the dollars, so that’s where little old me went. The easy route, you know. Instead of being a real man and telling him to go fuck himself even if it cost me every penny.” He paused. “So that’s my long-winded sob story. How about you? Were you close with your father?”
“Let’s just say that we didn’t see eye to eye on a lot while he was alive. But after he died things became clearer how he actually felt about me.”
Temple nodded. “Shouldn’t be this damn complicated, should it?”
“Family is actually more complicated than quantum physics, least I’ve found it so.”
“Speaking of family, what do you think of Steers and her mother? I mean, from what I’ve heard they seem tight. She had older brothers and sisters but she beat them all out to get the top spot. And now she’s trying to break the lady out of jail.”
“She said her mother’s imprisonment was political,” noted Nash.
“You believe that?”
“Right now, I believe nothing.” Nash looked around at some of the other passengers who were sleeping on the deck, or else sitting and eating and drinking some of the provisions they had brought on board. Other travelers had animals with them: goats, chickens, dogs, sheep, pigs, and a couple of critters Nash didn’t recognize.
He said, “Who else other than the military junta, or one of the regional crews Steers mentioned, could run a prison like that?”
Temple replied, “It’s near the Chinese border. So maybe Beijing? They seem to be involved in everything.”