BethAnn settled into the chair next to Brooke with her lips pursed, as if trying to keep herself quiet. Not an easy feat, Brooke thought. If she remembered one thing about the godmother she hadn’t seen in more than a decade, it was that BethAnn Bottomley was notoriously curious, determined and loquacious. She also exemplified the distinguished older society woman, right down to her perfectly painted fingernails and brass-button pantsuit. “Go ahead and ask.” Brooke took another sip of coffee. “You wanted to last night. I could tell.”
“You’re a grown woman, Brooke.” BethAnn smoothed a stray, stark blond hair back into the neat chignon. Her years as a devoted state senator’s wife had not worn off since her husband’s death a few years ago.
Brooke nodded. “Yes, I am.” A grown woman who had made far too many mistakes in her life, one in particular she was determined to make right. Her heart stuttered and nearly stopped at the thought. “Judging by the expression on your face, I take it you’ve spoken to my mother.”
“Candice did call.” BethAnn closed her laptop and, much to Brooke’s discomfort, turned all her attention on her. “You left without telling her.”
“I sure did.” She’d also waited to go until Candice had left on her annual sabbatical to France. No way would her mother consider canceling that trip, even to corral her wayward daughter. Never mind said daughter was well into adulthood. “I wasn’t going to take the chance she’d talk me out of coming back here. Not this time. What did she say?”
“That she didn’t appreciate finding out your plans from her housekeeper. And that she was disappointed.”
Brooke snorted. “There’s a first.”
“She also told me in no uncertain terms that if you turned up on my doorstep I was to send you home.”
Brooke sighed. It had been a rough year. First, she’d lost her father, then... Brooke gave herself a hard mental shake. “What did you tell her?”
“Same as I just told you,” BethAnn declared. “That you’re a grown woman. I also said that as your godmother my responsibility was to you, not to her antiquated belief about what a dutiful daughter should do with her life.”
Tears pricked the back of Brooke’s eyes. She’d spent most of her life trying to live up to her mother’s impossible standards, something she’d finally realized she was never going to accomplish. Why that still hurt she couldn’t fathom. “Did you really say that?”
BethAnn let out a sound that was strangely like a snort. “I might have gentled the words a bit, but that was the gist of it.” She reached out and took hold of Brooke’s hand. “She also said you weren’t answering your phone.”
“I left my phone back in South Carolina.” She’d bought an inexpensive one at a convenience store on her way out of town. She’d wanted to leave everything she could behind, including a way for her mother to reach her. The only reason she’d bought a replacement was because she wasn’t reckless enough to make the cross-country drive without a cell. She could have flown, of course, but she’d needed those endless hours to gather her courage and get her head on straight.
“What’s going on, hon?” BethAnn asked. “After all these years, what made you come back?”
So much, Brooke thought. So, so much, and yet...in the end, it was really simple what had brought her back to Butterfly Harbor. Regret. And hope. “Have you ever felt like this bubble inside of you just burst? Or like you’ve spent most of your life screaming into an abyss and no one has ever heard you?”
“Yes,” BethAnn said with an understanding nod. “Yes, I’ve most certainly felt like that. It’s a lonely way to live”
“It took thirty-four years.” Brooke hesitated, the rolling nausea of shame returning as the coffee churned in her empty stomach. “And one car accident, but I’m done screaming into the void. I’m going to live my life, my way.” She managed a quick smile. “Better late than never, huh?”
BethAnn’s lips curved with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I wish I could have been more help over the years.”
“You couldn’t,” Brooke assured her. “No one could. It was all up to me, wasn’t it? Whether I was going to live under my mother’s thumb, her rules. Her...” She swallowed hard. Her control. There. She’d admitted it. Almost out loud this time. “She’s different, now that Dad’s gone. Different enough I could see a way clear. Doesn’t mean things aren’t messed up, because they are. I’m still working some things out.” Like how she was going to approach Sebastian after all the years away.
It was hard to believe she could have anything left to think about given that’s all she’d been doing for the past four days. Drive and think. Think and drive. Dwell on choices she’d made that had put her exactly where she was today. “I’m determined to make this work,” she said, more to herself than to BethAnn.
BethAnn narrowed her eyes and her godmother clung tighter when Brooke tried to pull away. “Whatever’s going on, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”
She hadn’t been sure. Not until now. While Brooke had anticipated an obligatory welcome, she hadn’t exactly thought she’d be so warmly received, even by her godmother. Not after what she’d done. “You’re different, too. Softer than I remember.” Less like her mother. But even the expected severity hadn’t stopped Brooke from finally taking a stand and going against her mother’s wishes that she never come back to Butterfly Harbor.
BethAnn looked startled for a moment. “Well, the last few years have been difficult here, too.” She cleared her throat. “Best you hear it from me. I didn’t deal well with Edgar’s death. I...well, I drank. A lot. Enough that it turned into a real problem. I’m better now, though,” she added when Brooke was about to speak. “I don’t want you worrying over it. I’ve made friends here in town. A lot of them. Lori Knight—well, you’d remember her as Lori Bradley—she and her husband, Matt, kind of made me their project. It’s been an adjustment, going from the life I was used to living to realizing I wasn’t the most important person in the room. Or town.”
“I guess we both have something to be sorry for. I wish I’d known. Maybe I could have come back sooner...” she trailed off. Another habit she needed to break. The unending apologies she uttered almost by rote. She couldn’t have come back before now. She hadn’t been ready. Funny what courage she’d found by almost dying. “Fact is, I’m here now and if there’s anything you need, I hope you’ll think to ask me.”
“You’re sweet to say that.” BethAnn patted her hand. “I’m sure we won’t get in each other’s way much. I’m working. Sort of. Volunteering most of the time. Little things here and there. I’ve become quite good friends with Ezzie Salazar.”
Brooke shook her head. “The name’s not familiar.”
“No reason it should be. She’s just moved out here from Boston. She’s our new fire chief’s mother. Make that co-chief. Roman, that’s her son, is engaged to the other co-chief.” The knowing expression on BethAnn’s face filled in the blank.
“Frankie Bettencourt.” Brooke’s heart might have lightened at the idea of her one-time best friend finally getting the job she’d always dreamed of: Butterfly Harbor fire chief. But co-chief? She’d bet there was a story behind that development.
“I can understand why you wouldn’t have kept up with me, but you haven’t been in touch with anyone? Not even Frankie or Monty?” BethAnn asked.
“No.” The image of Sebastian Evans swirled through her mind. “No one.”
It had just been easier to push them all out of her mind as if they’d never existed. Tears she’d banked for what felt like decades filled her eyes. She rested her elbows on the table and wiped her eyes to stop them before they spilled over. How had she let things get this far? “I’ve made such a mess of my life.” She choked out the words as if her throat was caught in a vise. “How could I have stayed away so long? How could I have let my mom bully me into staying away all these years?”
“Candic
e had her mind set on the life you were going to lead before you were even born.”
“So she’s told me.”
“She’s also never been one to empathize with anyone’s situation other than her own.” BethAnn shrugged at Brooke’s astonishment. “She’s always been determined to keep you close. Suffocatingly so. I’ve considered her a friend for a lot of years, Brooke, and while we had a few knock-down, drag-out arguments, the biggest ones were when I told her she needed to let you breathe.”
Brooke had breathed. Whenever she’d been with Sebastian.
“Your mother’s never been the type of woman I’d go to if I needed help. Or to ask for a friendly ear. Emotions are not her strong suit. As you well know. She keeps everything under a very tight lid and she did that long before I met her in college.”
“You’ve now told me more about my mother than she’s ever shared. Dad always said she could turn her emotions on and off like a faucet.” It was still the best explanation she’d ever heard. “That doesn’t explain why it took me so long to realize nothing I did was ever going to be good enough.” All those years. All those wasted years...
“Oh, hey now.” BethAnn got to her feet and walked around to wrap an arm around Brooke’s shoulders.
Her godmother squeezed and drew her in close, and for the first time in a long time, Brooke felt herself relax. “I’ve made so many mistakes. What if they don’t...?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.
BethAnn gave her another squeeze. “There’s no sense worrying about what you can’t control. The only way you’ll fail is if you don’t take the chance. You’ve taken the first few steps. Don’t stop now.”
“I know.” Her godmother was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. “But my little girl, BethAnn. Leaving Sebastian was bad enough, but how could I have ever walked away from my beautiful little girl?”
“Because Candice didn’t give you a choice.” The harsh tone in BethAnn’s voice actually broke through her self-recrimination. “You and I both know the lengths to which she was willing to go to keep you apart. I’m sure once you explain that to Sebastian—”
“No.” Brooke swiped her cheeks dry and took a deep breath. “No, BethAnn. He doesn’t need to know about all that,” she added when BethAnn seemed about to argue. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”
“But if he knew...”
If he knew he’d be angry at her for not telling him in the first place, and he already had plenty to be angry about where Brooke was concerned. “I still left. I still gave in. Gave up. If we focus too much on the past I’ll never have a chance at a relationship with Mandy.” And that, not the threadbare hope of reuniting with the only man she’d ever loved, was her reason for returning. “And that’s all I want.”
“That sounds positive. You’ve stood up to Candice now,” BethAnn soothed. “That’s what matters.”
Brooke squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t stood up to her mother. Not exactly. Instead of telling her where she was going, Brooke had skulked off when there was no risk of confrontation. “I had to come back here.” The tears were gone now, replaced with the determination she’d been gathering for years. “I had to see them again. To tell them...” Her hands flailed before she locked them around the mug again, only to find the coffee had gone cold. What? What was she going to say to Sebastian and their daughter about walking away from them?
Hopefully she’d have a chance to figure that out.
BethAnn went to get the coffee carafe, then refilled their mugs.
“Coming back seemed like such a good idea a week ago.” Now that she was here, the fear—frustrating and paralyzing—had descended.
“Don’t you dare back down now. Not after the stand you’ve taken.” BethAnn returned to her chair. “Nothing about coming back here is going to be easy. Your situation aside, don’t forget what happened with the bank after your father left.”
“I heard it went under. The fallout must have been horrible.” Businesses closing, families losing their homes. The foreclosure rate alone...well, she hadn’t seen as many for-sale signs as she’d expected when she’d driven into town. When her father had been sick, he’d been unable to shake the guilt and responsibility that had followed him out of town. One of his biggest regrets, he’d confided in her, even as he told her not to make the same mistakes he had. She’d known, even without him being specific, he was talking about Sebastian and Mandy.
“We’re finally on the other side of it now,” BethAnn said. “Might have happened faster if your father had still been in charge, of course. Going the way he did left the town in the wrong hands. All the same—” BethAnn sighed “—we’re a forgiving group. Mostly.”
“I hope so.” Brooke offered a watery smile. “Thank you, BethAnn. For everything.” Now the real work began. The forgiveness she needed, the forgiveness she’d driven across the country to find, could only be given by the two people she had hurt the most: Sebastian and their daughter.
The question was...would they?
CHAPTER TWO
MANDY EVANS FINISHED printing off the last of the special orders, and when her phone alarm chimed, she got off her stool behind the counter at Cat’s Eye Bookstore and walked over to switch on the neon-bright open sign. Not her typical Wednesday morning, but her dad was off helping photojournalist Hunter MacBride on a project and Mandy, even though it was a teacher conference day, was already up.
Normally by 9:00 a.m. she’d be well into chemistry class, attempting to avoid a cataclysmic chain reaction thanks to her less-than-stellar formula-figuring skills. If she had any hope of getting a scholarship at her top-choice college, she needed every advantage she could get, but she’d have to at least pass chemistry. On paper she did great. Give her a lineup of equations and she could take those down in a snap. Execution? There was a reason her teacher asked for a hazmat suit whenever he gave her a lab assignment.
She unlocked the door and popped it open, not surprised to find two of her favorite Butterfly Harbor residents, Charlie Bradley and Simon Saxon, waiting on the other side.
“Did it come in?” asked Simon, who had just turned ten, decked out in his usual superhero T-shirt, thick bottle glasses and mussed hair. He asked the question before Mandy could even take a breath of fresh air. He’d gone through a bit of a growth spurt in the last few months and was now a good three inches taller than Charlie. That all the schools in the area were closed the next two days boded well for the store’s profit margin. “Is it here?”
“I was just going to call you.” Mandy waved the two kids inside and silently bid farewell to her hope of grabbing an iced mocha and sprinkle doughnut from Chrysalis Bakery down the street. “Charlie? You good?”
“Yep!” Charlie’s crooked red pigtails bobbed out of sight as she headed for the YA section. “Marley O’Neill told me about the Galactic Amazon series. She won’t let me borrow hers ’cause the last time I borrowed one of her books I got strawberry jam on the cover. I want to read the first couple of pages to see if it’s as good as she said.”
“It is,” Mandy confirmed, having stayed up until almost two in the morning just last week to finish the most recent book in the series. Her phone buzzed on the counter. “We’ve got the first three in stock,” she called after her. “Dad’s ordered the rest.”
“Cool!” Charlie hollered back.
“Here’s your book, Simon.” Mandy grinned at the text from her best friend, Eleni, and sorted through the stack of books on the counter. She pulled out the book on animation Simon had ordered last week. “You going to be our resident comic-book artist?” Better that than his previous downtime activities of computer hacking and matchmaking. Although, the latter tended to be Charlie’s bailiwick.
Simon shrugged and accepted the oversize paperback with a fair bit of reverence. “Maybe. I like making stuff up—you know, creating my own people and worlds. But I like science, t
oo. Me and Dad are building these really cool robots. No kits, just out of our heads with stuff he has in the garage. Pretty awesome, huh?” He flipped through the pages.
Mandy rested her chin in her hand, watching him. She barely remembered when he’d been born, but Simon was one of those kids you couldn’t imagine Butterfly Harbor without. Precocious. Brilliant. The fact that he was focusing his attention on activities with dad and the written page rather than targeting a cause or an unsuspecting town resident who crossed the line was good news. At least he stayed out of politics. No one needed Simon Saxon taking umbrage with Butterfly Harbor’s upcoming recall election in November. The busier Simon stayed, especially during election season, the better for everyone. The kid was persistence personified and always looking for a wrong to right.
“Can I look through this before I buy it?” Simon asked. “I just want to make sure it covers everything about comic books.”
“Of course. You might have to share the table with Zachariah,” Mandy told him as Tribble, her latest feline acquisition, padded his furry feet around the counter and bumped up against her leg. “He’s becoming a bit possessive since we got him a brother. Speaking of siblings, how are the twins?”
“Good. Loud.” Simon’s face scrunched when he looked up at her. “Mom says Zoe cries like a banshee. I looked them up online. That’s not a good sound.”
“You are so right,” Mandy said. “Let your mom know if she needs a sitter—I’m open for business.” How else was she going to earn enough money for that used scooter Cal Mopton had for sale at his garage?
Simon nodded and moved off with his book. “I will. Charlie! I’m over here.”
“Okay!”
Mandy grinned and scooped up the cat. “Well, Tribble.” She stroked a finger under his chin and earned the jet-engine purr she loved to hear. “Looks like we have to wait for Dad to get back before I get my mocha.” More cats, a lot more purring and a quick response to Eleni, who was heading out of town with her parents during the break, then she got back to work. She needed to finish with the special orders, refill the bestseller table and straighten up the shelves in the true-crime section.
A Match Made Perfect--A Clean Romance Page 2