“Offa.” She bats those eyelashes at me and I agree. To what I don’t know. She scampers down and brings me a DVD. Fucking Frozen. Offa is Olaf. I smile and situate the movie for her and she pats the couch. She takes position in my lap and before I know it her eyes closed, soft snores coming from her and . . . a blue lollipop stuck to the skin of my neck. Saylor walks in and chuckles. I flip her off and hold Julie tighter to my chest.
“It’s so easy at this age.” I whisper.
“It’s easy when it’s right. Not to say there aren’t hiccups and hurdles to realize what is in front of you but in the end . . . the easy outweighs the hard.” She sits next to me.
“Where’s DD?”
“Helping his dad with something.” She smirks. “Avery and Caden went back to the slopes and I was putting this one down until she found you.”
“She’s fine here.” I pat Julie’s back. “How’s everything going?” I point to her growing belly.
“Good. It’s a bit surreal but three months and you’ll have another to spoil.” I smile and pull her to me. She lays her head against my shoulder and is sleeping a few minutes later.
Deacon appears and stops in his tracks. “You’ve got my whole world in your arms.” He’s staring and memorizing every inch of them.
“I know.”
“Not many I’d trust them to— but you brother, you earned that trust.”
“Ditto, Dude.” He sits across from us and we both close our eyes relaxing for the time being. In a week we won’t have this luxury. Hell week for training starts, games will follow, and a new baby for him.
All I have is baseball. There was a time that didn’t bother me— now I wonder.
These people are exhausting. My mom had me walking the mall nine times— one end to the other. She bought me a few clothing items I need for my trip and made me stop at a sports store so she could purchase a case of bug spray. This woman has no clue regarding weight limits for bags when flying.
The meshing of the families goes without a hitch and I’m happy because that means Emberlee’s mom will entertain mine for the duration of her trip. Funny, I couldn’t wait to see her . . .
I want one-on-one time when things settle down; I’m not one for a crowd when I need some Motherly advice concerning topics of the heart. I bowed out so I could come home and soak in a tub. I smell paint coming from the basement . . . Avery must’ve forgotten to shut the door. I’ll grab a load of laundry and handle it— no reason to make two trips.
There’s a note resting against my pillow and it isn’t Avery’s handwriting. It isn’t fancy or decorated which she leans toward.
Doll,
Merry Christmas. A few packages should be arriving this week to complete your darkroom. If you can’t get your brother to handle it, just wait until I get home.
Miss you.
Don’t balk at this . . . I want to see your dreams come true.
Love,
Mason
Fuck me walking— sideways. I forego the laundry and rush down the steps and skid to a halt. In the corner of the basement a cubicle has been built and enclosed. No light can seep in— I open the door and gasp in shock. He’s created the perfect darkroom . . . down to the wet space and dry space with an easel to hang my photos. Chemicals stand ready for me to pour and mix.
Tears flood my eyes and I’m stupefied.
It’s too much.
It’s perfectly Mason.
My fingertips caress the smooth surface of the countertop and I close my eyes and envision the images I can collect. The stories I can tell through my photos.
I should call him but that’s too impersonal. I’ll wait until he gets home and thank him— properly.
Christmas morning is a zoo and I haven’t gotten a moment alone with my mom since she’s been here. I’m getting frustrated and by the look gracing Brody’s face he feels the same. Baby gifts are multiplying and I can see my brother getting hot under the collar.
I miss most of the conversation but when Brody grumbles it catches my attention. “I can provide just fine.”
My mom winks and shoots back a coy answer. Some nonsense regarding being a grandparent and spoiling her. Wrong move crazy woman. Emberlee and Brody take off to the kitchen and Natalie gets my mom’s attention. “Wanda, why don’t you and Brecklynn go in the study? I know we’ve occupied a lot of your time.”
Score. I smile and thank her. As I stand Gerald stops me. “Why didn’t you go with Mason and the crew to Colorado? Last time I saw you two he was quite protective.” My mind goes back to the cookout and pool party. I freeze and don’t have an answer.
“Gerald, the girl hasn’t seen her momma. Give her a break.” Natalie saves me.
I follow my mom into the study. “Who’s Mason?” She zones to the hot topic.
“Nobody.” I don’t know why I said that— he’s exactly who I wanted to discuss.
Without using names.
Without divulging too much.
“Brecklynn Rose Collier, don’t you lie to your momma. I’ll still put soap in your mouth.” I can’t help that I find comedy in that statement. My mom stands five feet and is a size two.
“Chill, woman. Sit down you’re gonna have a coronary.”
“I should have spanked you.” She clucks her tongue at me.
“What— three times a day whether I deserved it or not wasn’t enough for your twitchy hand? Any more and DCF would have been called. I think the cat lady who lived next door was on to you.”
She bends and gives me a belly laugh. “You are so much like your daddy. You have his twisted sense of humor.”
I’m taken aback. It isn’t often she refers to me and my dad in the same sentence. She shares stories, photos, and answers all questions I have, but to reference us as having similarities is new. “Wow. I’ve never heard that. No wonder you married him.”
“I’m glad you don’t suffer with self-confidence issues.” She rolls her eyes. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“I do. I don’t want to get into who Mason is here.” I’m letting my cowardice win. “Can you come over for coffee and breakfast? Just you and me?” I hate being needy and this is such a big time for Brody and Emberlee— but I need my mom.
“Of course, Breck.” She takes my hand. “How is seven?”
“Geez, woman. Let a college gal sleep. Nine?” I’m pushing my luck. I’m surprised she’s gonna let me outta the room without spilling the goods.
“Eight. I didn’t teach you to be lazy.” She scoffs and pinches my arm.
“You know if you leave a mark it’s considered abuse. Being a paralegal and all you should know the parameters of the law. I’d hate for you to be locked up.”
“In Texas it’s legal. If it isn’t, they look the other way— they understand the struggles of having smart mouth kids. Maybe I need to take you home and teach you a lesson.” I chortle. This woman couldn’t handle popping my butt once or twice without hysterics. She talks a good game— I’ll give her that.
Brody drags Emberlee from the house, she looks like she’s been crying and that doesn’t bode well for my brother. I drop my mom and Dick off and she gives me a friendly reminder to have coffee ready at eight and she’ll make breakfast. “Make sure you get essentials from Brody’s fridge. I don’t have any food that isn’t in a can.”
She sighs. “After we eat we’ll grocery shop.” Please, dear Lord tell me she didn’t bring her coupon book. Shit . . . I think back to her luggage. Nope, I’m safe. I could lift her bag into the trunk so it isn’t heavy enough to contain her coupons.
“Yes, Mother Dearest.”
“Brecklynn . . .” She hates being called that.
“No wire hangers,” I manage through my laughter. She shakes her head and grumbles the entire way to Brody’s door. Bless Dick, he just takes her hand and takes it in stride. It isn’t new to him . . . I was his student.
She’s too damn chipper in the morning. It’s all I can think as she’s banging pots and pans, humming,
and chattering to me. I pour a second cup of coffee and settle in to give her my attention. It isn’t like I couldn’t because her loud ass demands it. Eight my ass . . . she showed up here at quarter after seven spewing some venom of not being able to sleep.
I could.
Hell, I was.
“So, you gonna tell me who Mason is?” Not before I get this caffeine in my system.
“In a minute.” I slurp because I know it annoys her. And I win. She’s distracted giving me dirty looks and screwing her lips in that disappointed look only moms can muster. But . . . she’s quiet.
She plates my eggs and bacon, sits next to me and hands me a fork. “Eat.” I obey because I’ve pushed her buttons enough this morning. I’ve missed her peppers mixed with scrambled eggs and if I’m not mistaken, she’s put some hot sauce in.
“Did you bring sauce from home?” My hands assume the begging position like a squirrel hoping for nuts.
“Yes.” She winks at me. “You ready?” I scarf the rest down and turn to face her at the bar.
“Mason is Emberlee’s best friend. A baseball player Brody trains.” I bite my lip trying to figure where to begin.
“I don’t give two shits who he is to them. Who is he to you and why’d Gerald act like y’all were a couple?”
“We were.” I pause. “He’s a hot shot, sought after player. Baseball— on and off the field.”
“What happened?”
“I have issues,” I let a strained laugh escape.
“I’m aware. But focus. You seem upset. Did he cheat?” I roll my eyes. “One day those will get stuck up there.”
“I met him when I toured the campus at Spring Break. He was cocky and flirting with me. I blew him off but he captured my interest.” I have to be careful how much information I give her with the Emberlee situation. She doesn’t need to know it all. “Fast forward to summer. I met him at a frat party.”
She gasps. “Why in the world would you go to one of those?”
I knew she’d freak. “Mom, it’s college. I know. I know. I freaked and was leaving when he showed up.”
“Did your brother go with you?”
“No, I was alone.”
“I’m gonna tan his hide.” I chuckle.
“He was . . . occupied. I snuck and went.” Why does that make me sound like I’m twelve?
“I’m gonna implant a cow bell in your ass. No sneaking.”
“Got it. Now it’s your turn to focus. Like I said, I was leaving and he showed up. I was mid-panic attack and he stepped in and handled me with kid gloves. Come to find out, he lives next door and is Emberlee’s best friend. Well all of them are best friends.”
“And? There has to be something else because this isn’t something to run from.”
“I’ve never done the ‘relationship’ thing— and he sure as hell hasn’t.” I wait for her to chastise me for my language . . . she’s silent. “So, we were kinda seeing each other but keeping it quiet. He pushed me for a commitment and I fought it. He saved me from a full blown panic attack and I caved despite my reservations.”
“What reservations?” She starts cleaning up the kitchen dishes.
“Don’t yell at me for the language— but he’s a manwhore. He gets around.”
“Currently?”
I shrug. “He makes me crazy. Like legit certifiable. He promised the other girls were part of his past but something won’t let me believe him. I saw a picture of a girl kissing his cheek at a club and he didn’t tell me. I was picking up his room and found condoms and a shirt with a lip stick stain smearing his collar.”
“What’d he say?”
“Does it matter?” I snap.
“It most certainly does, young lady.”
“He went to a club with a friend and the groupies surrounded him. Says it was all innocent.”
“Groupies?”
“Oh, I failed to mention his status on campus. He’s big time. Baseball pitcher and amazing. He postponed the majors to attend college but he’ll be scouted next year.”
“Do you believe him nothing happened?”
“Yes.” It sounds stupid to admit this and still refuse to be with him.
“So, you broke up with him— why?”
“Back to the crazy thing. I’m jealous all the time with him. I want to claw girls eyes from their sockets when they look at him. It’ll be an issue and stuff will pop up. Then if he gets picked up by a team we’ll be miles apart.”
“You’re making up problems in your skewed mind.”
“No, I’m considering the options. Planning and weighing pros and cons.”
“In a relationship? What if he doesn’t get scouted and stays here? You threw it away for nothing. What if he does and you find someone else? Matters of the heart aren’t something you can make a list for. Do you love him?”
“Yes.” Uttering that confirmation stings.
“So say you’re together for years. He loves you and you love him. Yada yada yada. He cheats— what do you do?”
“Leave.” Ew— the thought makes me violent.
“That cut and dry?” Her eyebrows raise, challenging me.
“Yes. Cheating is a hard limit.”
“I love how you think you’ll know what you’ll do in a situation that hasn’t arisen yet. You can’t calculate and plan a relationship or love. What if I told you that your dad cheated on me?”
“No.” I gasp.
“Yes. It hurt like a son of a bitch. Our trust was shattered but it didn’t change my love. I was disappointed. Hurt. Betrayed. I was pregnant with your brother and I had many options. It was a mistake and I sat down and listened to him. Really listened. It didn’t excuse his behavior and he wasn’t asking me to ignore what he’d done. What I’m saying is men, like us, get overwhelmed. They get lost in the shuffle and their reactions don’t always fit the problem but if you’d asked me years before I married him my reaction would be the same as yours.” She sits next to me. “But you create this world with someone. Love. Memories. Time. Devotion. You learn each other and understand someone’s true colors. All those factor in when you’re faced with a difficult choice. So ten years prior I was adamant he’d be banished from my life. But that wasn’t the case because I’d changed. We’d changed. Our relationship had changed in those ten years.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“Stop making lists. Stop thinking the worst. Experience it. Live it. You may get hurt. He may get hurt. But you won’t know unless you try.” She stands and grabs her purse. “He could be your biggest blunder or your greatest feat.”
“Where are you going?”
“We are going to the store. You need groceries.” She winks. “I’m gonna broach a touchy subject and don’t bite my head off. You mentioned two panic attacks. Have you taken your medicine?”
“No. The attacks happened outta the blue.” I went to therapy after the assault and while it isn’t something you ever get over . . . I learned to cope. Before leaving for college my doctor prescribed low dose anxiety medicines to take as needed. He told me and my mom that new experiences, faces, places . . . and the stress of school could trigger panic attacks.
“But he told you this could happen. He said it could alter a lot of your thinking. If you’re overwhelmed it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Take a damn pill if you need it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Look at you. Ms. Gosh Darn Spit is swearing like a champ. I do think your friend is a bad influence.” The doorbell rings and the UPS driver is standing to greet me.
“Brecklynn Collier?”
“Yes.”
“Sign here. It’s heavy and I’m supposed to carry it in.” I scan the DIAD and sign where indicated.
“What is it?” My mom is trying to see over my shoulder.
“The equipment for my darkroom Mason built me.”
“WHAT!” I’ll need hearing aids after her visit is over if she keeps shouting in my ear.
“I’ll show it to you.” I wait for the delivery driver
to appear with his dolly and three giant boxes. “Can that go down stairs?”
“Yes ma’am.” I lead him down to the basement where he unloads the boxes that I’ll need my brother’s assistance with.
My mom is looking at the room, peeking her head in the cubicle he built and running her hands over the smooth walls. “Why’d he do this?”
“Brody was supposed to but he’s been preoccupied. I was using the schools but because he did this I don’t have to.”
“Do you have any idea what this cost?”
“A lot.”
“I’ll leave you a check and you can reimburse him for materials and equipment.” That’s gonna go over like a lead balloon.
“Your funeral.” She scrunches her nose. “He’s very . . . eh, possessive. Territorial. Generous. I just know he’ll look at me like I’m from another planet if I try and give him money.” I wish he’d take it.
“Ask him how much when you talk to him.”
“That’s an issue. I haven’t talked to him since I found this.” I wave to the darkroom.
“I don’t know whose child you are but that’s rude. I raised you better.” I roll my eyes. I’ll come up with a grand gesture of some sort.
“I need your help.” I’ve been watching Emberlee balance a bowl of ice cream on her stomach for ten minutes and she owes me for keeping my comments to myself.
“With what? I refuse to share my food.” I’m surprised I can understand her with the heaping spoonful she shovels in her mouth.
“I don’t want your food. My niece is gonna be twelve pounds.”
“Are you saying I’m fat?” I bark in laughter. She’s all belly. And sleavage. And cankles. Normal pregnancy stuff but she’s so petite appearances can be deceiving.
“No. Are you gonna help me?”
“Depends. If it requires me to get my fat ass off this couch— the answer is no.”
Karma (Endgame Series Book 3) Page 12