Love Again, Love for Them: A Novel

by Lee, R. A.

  “I love you, Brooke,” her mother said, clasping her hands in prayer. “I pray for you, dear.”

  Me too.

  “I love you, too, mom,” Brooke said and headed out. Walking to the bus stop, Brooke sat down and cried in her hands until the bus pulled up. Waving it away, she caught her breath, wiped her tears and waited for the next one.

  When she got home with her son, she had to console him because he was distressed that his room was almost empty.

  “What happened to all my stuff?” he said puzzled.

  “We’re going to have to move in with Melinda,” she said, cheerfully not showing that his questioning brown eyes were breaking her already broken heart.

  “What about school?” he insisted. Even though his teacher didn’t have faith in her son, he still loved going and being with his friends.

  “You’ll still go to your school, we’re just gonna be living with Melinda until we find a place to live,” she shrugged as if it were just a normal thing.

  “Where’s all my stuff?” he asked again.

  “It’s in storage,” she said, putting peas and hot dogs on the table. “We’ll get it out when we move into our new place.”

  Eating in silence, Brooke didn’t deviate from their normal routine. There was a bath and story time for the last time in the very same room Brooke and Matthew had brought him when he arrived from the hospital six years prior.

  As she read the last page, she realized it was the last story time in their home. Brooke read the one book she didn’t pack. It was MJ’s favorite about the sleepy elephant. Without him asking, Brooke read the book over and over until he fell asleep.

  Brooke sat frozen on his bed. Once she got up, turned off the light and left, there would be no turning back. MJ was supposed to grow up in the room. This was supposed to be his home where he would bring his kids someday.

  Closing her eyes and holding back the fresh hot tears, Brooke remembered the day she and Matthew brought him home and watched as he slept that first night as a family.

  Kissing her on the forehead, he admired the tiny baby.

  “MJ,” he had marveled. “Matthew Junior. I have a son. We have a son,” he beamed and hugged her. Brooke had hugged back. It was supposed to be like that forever, a happy family.

  Six short years later, she was faced with decisions that never entered her mind back when Matthew held her and vowed always to be there for her and protect them.

  For three years, Brooke had tried to protect what she had left. Soon one thing after the other wore at her resolve. She couldn’t do it alone anymore.

  Turning off the light for the last time, Brooke crawled in her bed and rolled up into a ball. Gathering all the strength she had left, Brooke dialed Melinda.

  “We’ll be there tomorrow,” she told her friend.

  Melinda acknowledged and then Brooke gave in to the last chance in the world as she lay in the darkness.

  “Set it up, Melinda, set it up,” Brooke whispered. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 2

  In an upscale bar at the top of the ritziest hotel downtown, Brooke sat in a lounge chair surrounded by Melinda’s male “friends.” Sipping a sparkling water and laughing at whatever seemed needed an acknowledging laugh, Brooke tried to be as charming as she could under the circumstances.

  Dressed in one of her friend’s designer black mini dresses, her hair professionally styled and straightened to remove the unruly waves, Brooke had been transformed into a woman again. Three years of neglect had taken a toll and her friend set her up with her hairstylist and makeup team before the get together.

  “So how do you know Melinda,” one of the men asked. There were four, two on chairs across from her and one on either side. Brooke was trying to move away from the man on her left who kept trying to brush her leg with his fat hand.

  “Family friend,” she said without adding details. Melinda was Matthew’s boss’ wife and they had become good friends in the past three years.

  Everybody stood when Melinda came back from wherever she had gone, and Brooke mingled with each of the men.

  Melinda interjected whenever there was a lull in the conversation or sensed Brooke freaking out.

  “Brooke has a degree in art and she speaks French,” Melinda offered and the men were impressed. The fat man on her side whispered, “Would you like to voulez-vous with me?” and grabbed her ass.

  Brooke was through with his impertinence.

  Pulling him away by his fat arm, she looked down on the man and scolded him.

  “I like that,” he declared. “You’re not what I’m used to, but I’d do you,” he chuckled and slapped her on the ass. Brooke slapped him on the face just hard enough to get his attention on her face.

  “Listen you fat, little, stupid man,” she whispered threateningly. For a moment she was distracted by a man with intense green eyes standing at the bar entrance. “I’m not only not for sale, but you couldn’t have me in your wildest fantasies,” she hissed, turned and headed to the bar. Locking onto the gaze of the man who had been standing by the door, Brooke looked down humiliated.

  “Give me something with alcohol,” she told the bartender.

  “This is a bar, lady,” he said sarcastically. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “White wine, two,” the man with green eyes said and held up two fingers for the bartender who nodded and left to get the order. Sitting next to her, the man stared straight ahead with his hands folded on the bar.

  “I can’t believe I just did that,” she confided in the man while looking for the fat man she had just scolded.

  “I didn’t see anything,” the man with green eyes said as the bartender brought him two glasses of wine. The man pushed a glass toward Brooke.

  “Thank you,” she said and tossed back half the glass in one unladylike gulp. Sighing, Brooke carefully placed the glass on the napkin provided by the bartender and moaned.

  “Shouldn’t you get back to your party?” he asked, still looking straight ahead as he held onto the stem of his glass. Brooke wondered if he was waiting for someone or just a guest coming up for a drink.

  “I think I’m done for the night,” she replied. Staring off across the bar at whatever fascinated the man, Brooke reconsidered her friend’s option.

  Melinda, divorced from her very wealthy husband, was always trying to set Brooke up with a new man. Like it was just easy to forget about Matthew and get another man to take care of her.

  For three years Brooke did everything in her power to take care of herself, her son and her mother. Meeting an eligible bachelor interested in marriage and the responsibility of taking on her issues had been the last resort of last resorts. Sitting at the bar, Brooke just wanted to go home and relax in the darkness until she melted away in the nothingness.

  It didn’t work. Morning always came and the problems never ceased. The insurance money had run out. If she hadn’t lost her job at the gallery, everything would have been fine. For months she tried to get another job, any job. Barely making it at the gallery, Brooke had been living on borrowed time in her home.

  Welfare was an option. Brooke had been seriously considering it, but Melinda said there were plenty of single men and she was still young enough to start over. Unfortunately, these men knew she was desperate, and Brooke would rather live in a homeless shelter rather than compromise her principles. The only problem was that she had other people in her life to consider.

  There would be no choices on welfare. She would have to send her child to the school the government chose for her, and her mother would end up in a state run home. The nurses at the elder care facility didn’t have many good things to say about those homes.

  So she sat in a bar being groped by entitled jackasses who thought they could afford her at any cost.

  “What are you guys celebrating,” he asked casually.

  Brooke was getting numb. It didn’t take a lot of alcohol to give her a buzz.

  “The loss of my independence
,” she declared, holding up her glass and pouring the last half of the wine down her dry throat.

  “Do they know that?” he asked puzzled as he turned to her. Brooke met his intense green eyes and leaned in close enough to be transfixed by his masculine cologne.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “It can’t be that bad,” he said, taking another drink. Brooke was getting very relaxed.

  “It’s worse,” she confessed.

  Looking back at the men, Brooke realized only one of the nicer men was left and he was sitting and talking to Melinda. Catching her gaze, Brooke nodded and Melinda went back to her conversation with the man.

  Brooke leaned her head on the bar.

  “I am such a disaster,” she moaned.

  “Yeah, why is that?” he asked softly and casually drank his wine.

  Talking to the stranger was comforting. Knowing she’d never see him again relaxed her even more.

  “Three years ago I had everything,” she said out loud, not really caring if the man listened or not. “I had a husband. We had a home. If I thought back then I’d be in some bar scoping out a wealthy husband for security, I would have thought it was the easy solution. I would have told myself I would do everything I could before that happened. It would never have been an option. Now here I am and I’m actually feeling guilty I scared them all away. They’re throwing my mom out of her care facility. My son needs special education. I haven’t been able to find a job.”

  “What about you,” the man interjected and Brooke realized he had been listening. Looking into his eyes Brooke answered sincerely.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “How do you feel about marrying a stranger for security?” he asked.

  “I want everyone to be happy and healthy,” she shrugged. “That’s what I want more than anything else.”

  “What about you?” he asked again.

  Brooke didn’t understand. That’s what she wanted for herself.

  “I want for everyone …” the man interrupted her before she could repeat herself.

  “You’ll be happy if you give up what you want so that everyone else will be happy?” he asked incredulously.

  Brooke looked into his eyes and saw that he wasn’t being rude. They were two chums at a bar trying to figure things out.

  “You’ve never been in love, have you?” she said, feeling sorry for the man. “Nothing matters except the happiness of the ones you love. You’re right, what I feel is important as well, but I would never give up what I have for my happiness and nothing else. I would be happy if my son was getting the best education and he had a stable life. I would be very happy if my mother were in a nice care facility where they catered to her every need. If I had security again, I would be happy. If that means giving something up of myself, that’s a small price to pay,” she said.

  Realizing she had been too candid with the man, Brooke thanked him for the wine and waved good-bye to Melinda. Without waiting to say good-bye to the man, Melinda quickly got up and met Brooke at the elevator.

  “You seemed pretty cozy with the man at the bar,” Melinda surmised as she steadied her inebriated friend. Brooke just wanted to go home.

  “Nice eyes,” Brooke shrugged. “He bought me a drink. I’m so sorry I slapped your friend.”

  “He’s a jackass,” Melinda shrugged. “I won’t be seeing him again.” The elevator doors opened and Brooke got in but Melinda said she would meet her at the valet station. Shrugging, Brooke agreed and took the elevator down. Not a thought entered her brain as she waited for Melinda and they drove home.

  Melinda seemed to be in a good mood.

  “Did you like that guy you were talking with?” Brooke asked the beaming Melinda.

  “Dave? I’ve known him for years, nice guy, he thought you were nice as well,” Melinda said.

  “He was one of the nicer ones,” Brooke agreed.

  “You spent a lot of time with the guy at the bar,” Melinda noted.

  “He was just listening to me spill my guts,” Brooke shrugged.

  When they got back to Melinda’s condo, Brooke checked in on her son sleeping on the couch in his sleeping bag. Brooke had bought it so that the move would seem like an adventure to him. Paying the babysitter, Brooke said good-night and then she sat with Melinda in the kitchen.

  “What if one of the men were interested,” Melinda asked as they drank sparkling water.

  “Not the short fat one,” Brooke said, disgusted at the way he thought he owned her. It had nothing to do with the way he looked. It was the way he acted.

  “Not him, another one,” she insisted.

  Brooke shrugged.

  “The others were nice,” she replied, not really needing to know which one specifically. They all seemed the same to Brooke. They were polite and treated her respectfully. She wasn’t looking for love. She just needed security.

  “Well, one of them is looking for a wife, the same way you’re looking for a husband,” Melinda continued, getting to her point. “He has a proposal.”

  Brooke looked puzzled. Is that what she had been talking about with the nice man while she was at the bar.

  “What kind of proposal?” Brooke asked, listening very carefully.

  “He’s got a mother who has been bugging him for years to marry his on-again off-again girlfriend,” she said as if she were trying to sell the proposal to Brooke. “He needs a ‘family,’” Melinda said, using finger quotes to emphasize her point, “to appease his mother while he continues seeing the woman and going off on business trips and whatever.”

  “Why doesn’t he just be a man and tell his mother to lay off, it’s his life?” Brooke asked. She knew relationships with parents were more complicated, but this was supposed to be a grown man.

  “I can’t answer that,” she said. “He wants a wife for appearance sake. That’s all.”

  “How does that help me and my situation?” Brooke asked.

  “He’s a wealthy businessman,” Melinda explained as if Brooke were slow of understanding. “He’ll send your son to the school he needs, he’ll continue payments to your mother’s elder care facility and all you have to do is marry him.”

  Brooke spit out her water and covered her mouth. Staring Melinda straight in the eye she could see Melinda was serious.

  “He’s a wealthy businessman who can’t deal with his mother?” Brooke wasn’t slow to understand, she was just confused at why this man needed a wife he didn’t love. “He just wants to marry me in order to keep his mother off his back.”

  “It’s not like that,” Melinda corrected her. “There would be no ‘marital duties,’” Melinda explained with the air quotes. “You just have to put up with his overbearing mother who lives in the back house.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Brooke said, still trying to figure out the bizarre proposal. “I marry him. We don’t sleep together. I just live in his house and pretend to be a family for his mother so he can see his girlfriend?”

  “That’s it,” Melinda said, excited Brooke understood the arrangement.

  “What guarantee do I have?” she asked. “What happens if I marry this guy and everything changes?”

  “He can have his lawyer draw up papers and it would be a legal and binding arrangement,” Melinda shrugged at the detail. “Like a pre nup.”

  Brooke found herself very awake.

  “He would take care of my son and mother, guaranteed, and I would have to do nothing?” she asked, considering the option seriously for the first time.

  “Except marry him and change your name,” Melinda said, offering the fine points of the proposal.

  Brooke looked at the gold band on her finger and massaged it, hoping it would magically give her an answer, or absolution.

  “He’s not coming back,” Melinda whispered, trying to comfort her friend.

  “I will let you know in the morning,” Brooke said in a trance as she went to her room, closed the door and lay on her bed star
ing at the ceiling.

  Could it be possible? Could such an arrangement exist?

  Brooke twisted the band around and around hoping for answers or to be transported back in time.

  There was no sleep for her. When MJ poked his head in her room, she just stood up, got him cereal and sat him down for Saturday morning cartoons. Sitting next to him she stared past the cartoons.

  Eight years earlier she and Matthew pledged not only their love but made a vow to be together forever.

  This decision was too important for Brooke to go back to that night three years earlier. If she fell into that misery, it would take her years to recover again. Her son and her mother needed her to take care of them. They would all have security and she wouldn’t have to compromise her body. Morals were something that could be compromised on a case-by-case basis.

  Melinda woke up and Brooke announced her decision while her friend headed for the kitchen.

  “Have him send the papers over,” Brooke said.

  Melinda stopped.

  “I’ll do that,” she said. “When do you want to meet him?”

  Brooke had thought about that. Getting up, she joined Melinda and they went to the kitchen to discuss the arrangement in private.

  “I don’t,” she asserted. “No ceremony. It doesn’t matter as long as you’re comfortable with it. I’ll have a lawyer review the arrangement and if it’s what we’ve agreed upon, I just want to meet him at city hall the day we get the license.”

  Melinda thought about Brooke’s request.

  “I will get started,” she said, hugging the robe to her thin body. Melinda looked so much older without her makeup and the concern on her face was not masked. “Are you sure you want to do it this way?”

  “It’s the only way I can do this,” Brooke affirmed.

  “I will set it up,” she agreed and made the coffee before making the call.

  Monday morning the papers arrived and Brooke made an appointment to see one of Melinda’s friends who was a lawyer. After the woman reviewed the arrangement, she looked at Brooke and asked if she was sure about the unusual pre nup.

  Brooke had reviewed the details.

  The main points were acceptable.