A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon

mention at your mother’s dinner table. I’m definitely anemic.”

      “Anemia’s curable, right?” Daniel asked.

      Pop shrugged. “Apparently mine’s severe. They’re still trying to figure me out.”

      “I told the nursing staff they’d never figure him out.” Mom’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

      “So why are we here?” Daniel waved his hand around the table, but what he meant was, Why is Nathan home? His twin had screwed up all his life. He’d even messed up working for the family business. It was why he worked in Atlanta now. Nathan had lost his place at the proverbial table.

      “I...I can’t get everything done.” Pop ran his hand through his hair. “I need help.”

      Daniel’s stomach churned. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

      “We know. You always do.” Mom patted his hand. “But we have too much going on to put it all on your shoulders.”

      Daniel stared at Pop, but his dad was staring at Nathan.

       No.

      “Can you come home?” Pop grasped Nathan’s hand. “I know there were...problems before. But I need you here.”

      Problems? “You’re kidding.” Daniel spit out.

      Pop shook his head. “No.”

      “Nathan slept with a client’s wife. He showed up to work drunk.” Daniel pushed his chair away from the table, the scrape as sharp as nails on a chalkboard. “We don’t need Nathan.”

      “I’ve changed.” Nathan stood, too. “I won’t make the same mistakes.”

      “What new ones will you make?” Daniel snapped back.

      They both planted their fists on the table, leaning over the cooling food.

      “Sit!” Their mother ordered.

      Daniel glared at Nathan, but sat for his mother.

      “Your father and I have discussed this.” She pointed at Nathan. “You’ve proven yourself in Atlanta. Can you come home and manage some of the projects? Be a leader and an example to the crews?”

      “Absolutely.” Nathan’s glare was like knives ripping through Daniel’s chest. “My boss relies on me, even though I’m not the chosen one.”

      “At least I never stepped out of line,” Daniel shot back. “The cops never came to the door because of me.”

      “Why would they? You were perfect.” Nathan turned to their father. “I’ll give notice in Atlanta and come home as soon as I can. You can count on me.”

      “Count on you for what? To drive our business into the ground?” Daniel’s voice was shrill.

      “I’m not twenty anymore.” The china and silverware clanked as Nathan pushed his plate away. “Can’t you give me a chance?”

      “You had a million chances and never changed.”

      “Stop,” Pop barked.

      The fridge compressor kicked on.

      Pop sank back into his chair, exhaustion and disappointment creasing his face.

      “I’m sorry.” Daniel wasn’t sorry for expressing his displeasure, but he was sorry he’d worn out his father.

      Pop waved a hand.

      “It’s your company.” Daniel pushed away from the table. “You do what you want.”