by K. A. Tucker
My voice is a thick rasp. “Can we please not do this right now? I’ll explain it later.” If I can just contain this . . .
There’s no containing Misty, though, not when she’s this upset. “And you let me and Lou—and everyone—believe that Brenna’s father was some drug dealing loser? Why?”
“Because it was easier that way.”
Tears roll down Misty’s face. She’s always been emotional, crying over things I might barely notice. Only this time, I can see that I’ve hurt her gravely.
“It’s Scott Philips, isn’t it? You slept with him again and you didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Can we please just do this later? When my family isn’t outside?” I leave before Misty can push for an answer.
And find a wall of stunned faces—Lou, Emma, Keith, my father, and my mother—at the end of the hall.
“I had a feeling DJ would bring nothing but trouble.” Lou’s voice is all the more hollow echoing through the cavernous space.
The empty space where voices carry far. And the windows are open. “Brenna!” I whisper frantically. “Where is she?”
“She’s with Jack and Leroy. She didn’t hear anything.” Brett stands in the open doorway that leads out to the covered porch.
But he surely did. It’s not shock I see in his face. I can’t read exactly what that is. Realization that I’m not so honest after all, perhaps. That I lied to him, along with everyone else.
Whatever it is, I’m certain it means this fairy tale is over.
Chapter 33
September 2010
The empty soda can topples, clattering noisily against the rocks.
“Shit!” I stumble behind a bush, my eyes on the windows, watching for any signs of movement.
There’s nothing besides the dim flicker of a TV.
I release a sigh of relief and hunker back down on my boulder with the giant water bottle I filled with vodka and 7UP. Misty said her dad doesn’t care if we drink his booze, as long as we replace it before he’s back in three weeks.
The burn of it as it begins to course through my limbs helps against the chill in the night air, but it does little against the eeriness of the darkness that surrounds me. I huddle in my sweatshirt and remind myself that there’s nothing besides raccoons and squirrels here in the woods.
And an art teacher.
I didn’t actually know if he’d be here when I hopped on my bike, but I remembered him once saying that he comes almost every weekend in autumn to paint the colorful fall foliage. And I didn’t know if he’d be alone, or with her. But I’m ecstatic to see only his motorcycle parked next to the dilapidated shed.
The reasonable part of me knows that coming out here is wrong, that I shouldn’t be lurking outside the cabin Scott inherited from his grandparents. And yet, here I am.
Guzzling vodka and pretending I have the guts to walk up to that door and knock on it, to remind Scott that I’m eighteen now and no longer a student at Balsam High, effective last Thursday, so no one can stop us anymore.
Fuck it. I’m just going to do it.
I begin moving toward the forest-green door, my heart pounding in my chest, my fist clutching the bottle so tight that the plastic crinkles.
What the hell am I doing? Have I finally lost it?
I need to leave.
I’m fifteen feet away from the cabin door when it swings open without warning. Scott steps out onto the rickety wooden stoop, a joint pinched between his lips.
He finally notices me as he’s working to light it, startling slightly. “Catherine?” He reaches inside and suddenly the driveway is bathed in light, highlighting his deep frown. “What are you doing here?”
I don’t answer.
He glances around. “How did you get here?”
“I rode my bike. I left it in the bushes, at the end of the driveway.” I’ve brought the rumors to life. I am now officially a crazy stalker girl. “I should go.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
I wave the bottle. “A bit.”
He pauses. “Who knows you’re here?”
“No one.” I hesitate, searching for my bravery. “And it doesn’t matter if they do anyway.”
A sly smile stretches across his lips. “Because you turned eighteen two days ago.”
He remembered. “And I don’t go to Balsam anymore.”
The gravel crunches under his boots as he approaches me unhurriedly, his worn Metallica T-shirt speckled with yellow paint. “So I heard.” His gaze roams over my face as he finally lights his joint, takes a haul off it. He hands it to me, our fingertips brushing. My breath catches. “So, why’d you come here, Cath?”
I savor the joint, stalling answering his question. When I finally look up, I meet a knowing look. It’s so easy to get caught in those flirty eyes of his, and I do, reveling in them as we pass the joint back and forth wordlessly. It’s just a small one, finished in a minute. Scott prefers a light buzz over being outright stoned.
“Where’s Linda?”
“Probably baking cookies or praying in church,” he mutters. “Don’t know, don’t really care right now. Truth is, we’re close to being done.”
Relief swells inside me.
He pushes a curly lock of coffee-colored hair off his forehead. “I don’t like the idea of you going home in this state. You should come inside and sober up a bit.”
I fight my overwhelming excitement as I trail Scott into the small cabin. The kitchen is to the left, the main room ahead.
He leads me to the right.
To the bedroom.
I know it’s Brett who’s climbing the stairs to the third floor without having to look, his steps slow and careful.
“They must have placed this skylight here intentionally,” I murmur into the darkness. I’m sprawled out on the hardwood floor, staring up at the glowing full moon above me. Imagining how amazing it would be to sleep right here. “Is Brenna in bed?”
Brett eases himself onto the floor next to me with some difficulty. “She’s arguing with Jack and Keith about crating Stella. She wants to sleep with her.”
“She can’t. The dog will pee all over the house.”
“That’s what they’re trying to explain to her.” Brett’s soft chuckle echoes in the room. “But that kid has an answer for everything.”
I should really be down there, dealing with it. But I’ve been hiding out up here for the past hour instead. Trying to hold on to everything for just a little while longer.
“I’m sorry.”
He sighs. “I know you are, Cath.”
“The day I found out I was pregnant, I was in the restroom at Diamonds, in the middle of my interview. It all happened so fast, and when Misty assumed it was Matt’s baby, I just went along with it. I didn’t want to admit that it was Scott’s. That I’d gone and slept with him after he let me take the brunt of that scandal. How I’d been stupid enough to think he’d leave Linda for me.”
“Did he tell you he would?”
“Not in those words.” I think back to that night, to what he did say and to the look in his lust-filled eyes. “He definitely played me, though, to get what he wanted out of me. Lied right to my face. But I was so sure that I was going to get what I wanted.” The last laugh, when my mother and all the assholes who swore Scott Philips would never be interested in me saw us strolling hand in hand down the sidewalk, talking about where we should live in Philly. Of course, I kept quiet about it after that night. Waiting for Scott to call, to show up at Misty’s doorstep for me.
And then, I heard a week later that Linda and Scott were engaged and they had both accepted teaching jobs in Tennessee, effective immediately. Linda hadn’t been baking cookies and praying that weekend. She’d been down in Memphis, arranging an apartment for them.
“It’s still embarrassing, thinking how pathetic I was.”
“You were seventeen.”
“It doesn’t feel like a good enough excuse.” I shake my head. “Honestly, I didn’t think t
he lie would last, but I was happy when it did. I’d had enough of people talking about me and Scott Philips. I figured, who cared if people thought it was Matt? He wasn’t going to come around. There was no connection, other than DJ.”
“But Scott Philips has money. His family has money. You wouldn’t have had to struggle like you did. Plus, if you came out with this, he wouldn’t be able to deny something going on between the two of you.”
“And then I’d be tied to them forever. And so would Brenna.” I’ve never met Melissa Philips, but Lou had a run-in with her over a property and confirmed she’s a controlling, uppity bitch. And I trust Lou’s judge of character. But I do know Mr. Philips—Brenna’s grandfather. Just picturing him, glowering at me from across the desk in his office, makes me tense. “If his father was willing to corner and coerce a seventeen-year-old girl using his authority, what else would he and his wife be willing to do for their son?” That those two are Brenna’s grandparents makes me shudder.
I still haven’t found the guts to look over at Brett, but I hear his teeth clench beside me.
“I know that he manipulated me, and he has manipulated others. I don’t want a man like Scott in Brenna’s life.”
“I don’t blame you.”
I feel the bitter smile touch my lips. “And yet I wouldn’t have her if it wasn’t for him. It’s hard to hate him, when she’s what I get because of it. It almost doesn’t seem right, that I’d be rewarded with a kid like her.”
Silence hangs between us.
“But I can’t even blame him, completely. I’m the one who rode my bike over there that night. And I’d like to say that I wouldn’t have slept with him if he hadn’t lied to me about Linda and him. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think it would have mattered. I was in love with him. I would have convinced myself that it was okay no matter what.” I’ve never admitted that out loud to anyone, including myself. “What kind of person does that make me?”
Brett sighs. “A person who has made some big mistakes.” His tone is impossible to read. Is he angry? Sad? Frustrated?
Or is that simply the sound of resignation?
A painful lump forms in my throat, as my regret overwhelms me. “I wish I had told you everything.”
“And you didn’t feel like you could? After everything we’ve been through?”
“I guess not.”
What must be going on inside Brett’s head right now? That he’s gotten himself into a mess, likely. This isn’t going to be as simple as it was when he broke up with Courtney for lying to him. Now there’s this massive house to deal with, along with a dog and a kid who won’t understand. On top of that, Simone just released a statement that basically said the fairy tale has come true.
A puppy’s howl carries through the house. My heart aches, thinking of Brenna, of what this will do to her. “I’ll see if my parents can take Stella, just until I can find a place that will let us have a dog.” If my mother’s even talking to me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone as I bolted from the ground floor, near hyperventilating.
“You can stay here. This is your house.”
“I don’t want to stay here. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Brett is now firmly tied to every thought I have of the Gingerbread House. Even this attic . . . My gaze wanders to the wall he had me pressed up against.
“Why? Where am I going?”
I turn to find Brett frowning.
“I just thought . . .” I’ve been lying to him, to my entire family—to everyone. Lying is what ended things for him and Courtney, he said so himself.
The light from the full moon casts a glow over his face, highlighting those stunning blue eyes as they rove over my face. “I knew.”
“What?”
“Well . . . I guessed, anyway.” He shifts onto his back. “That day at the grocery store, when we ran into him.”
“You think she looks like him?” Panic stirs inside me. I’d always banked on the fact that, despite the olive skin tone, her curls, and the ring of hazel around her pupils, she really does take after me.
“No. But I saw something familiar in his eyes. A look, I think. I can’t pinpoint it, exactly, but it was uncanny. That’s when I started to wonder if you were telling the truth about that other guy. It would make sense, why you would avoid talking about Brenna’s father, even with me.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Because I figured you had a good reason for lying.”
“You said there was never a good reason for lying.” Not to someone you love.
“And yet here you were, lying to everyone. So I figured that you really believed you had no choice.”
What is Brett saying? “So you bought this house and got the dog and asked us to stay with you . . . even though you knew?”
A soft smile touches his lips. “Yeah.”
“So . . . you’re not ending this?” I hold my breath.
He slides his arm beneath my neck and pulls my body against him. “No. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to. I’m in too deep, with you and your little hellion. But I don’t want to.”
The crushing weight suddenly lifts from my chest, as tears of relief begin streaming. I feel his arms tighten around me as I sob softly against him.
“You’ve been carrying that for a long time,” he says soothingly, stroking my hair.
I never realized how much guilt had settled on my shoulders until now. Will everyone forgive me as quickly and easily as Brett seemingly has, though? “How angry are they?”
“I don’t think anyone’s angry. Not at you, anyway. And Lou already knew.”
I shouldn’t be shocked, but I am. “How?”
“She said she always wondered, and then when she saw that real estate ad in the newspaper, she was sure.”
Of course. “Did anyone else figure it out?”
“No. Your mom tried coming up here to talk to you about it, but Keith and your dad blocked the stairs.”
“Has she mentioned a lawsuit yet?”
“I believe I might have heard that word, yeah.” My body shakes with his chuckle. “Your dad said not to worry, though. She’s just angry, but she won’t risk losing you again. No one’s saying a word to anyone about this. They’ve all agreed to keep it quiet.”
“But if Misty said something to DJ—”
“She didn’t.”
“Are you sure? Because he’s the kind of slimeball who would sell this story to a tabloid.” And right now, the tabloids would be all over this juicy bit of gossip.
“You’d have to ask her that.” He pauses. “But if I figured it out and Lou figured it out, and now that jackass is here . . . You have to be ready for it if it comes out. And because we’re together, that will make it a bigger deal.”
“I know. I’m just not sure what I’ll do if it happens.”
He brushes my tears away. “Don’t worry about that. I can promise you that we have better lawyers and more money than those assholes. If he or his parents even try to come after Brenna, I’ll make them regret it.” He smiles. “I’m sure his mother already hates me, anyway.”
“Why?” I ask curiously.
“The Chases tried to use her for the sale and we told them that the deal was off if the Philips name was anywhere on the paperwork. She would have figured out by now why.”
“Was that what you were talking about, that night you said you didn’t want someone to get a dime?”
He pauses. “Were you eavesdropping on my private phone conversation?”
“No.” I avert my gaze. It all makes sense now.
A commotion sounds beneath us—of footsteps running through the rooms on the second floor, Keith and Jack taking turns calling hyper Stella’s name as they chase her.
“Did Keith really not know?” The night he grilled me outside my house, he asked me why I couldn’t just move on, if I was still hung up on Scott. I was so sure that he would take that next step and figure out exactly what’s always been hanging over my head.
The fact that we share a daughter.
“He was as shocked as the rest of them. Jack told him he was a shitty cop for missing that.”
Tears still stream from eyes, even as I giggle. “And you?” I skate the tip of my nose across the hard line of his jaw, relishing the feel of his body pressed against mine. I don’t ever want to let go of him again. “You’re really not angry with me?”
“Me?” A slow grin stretches across Brett’s face. “I’m furious.”
October 2017
“For the road.”
My hands drop with the weight of the Styrofoam container. “Seriously, Leroy!” I flip open the lid to find it stuffed with blueberry pancakes and strips of bacon. “He can’t eat like this all the time!”
Leroy’s face splits into a wide grin. “The boy needs his calories.”
“If his trainer complains, I’m sending him to you.”
“You do that. I’ll put some meat on his trainer’s bones, too.” Leroy tosses two plates up on the counter and slams a hand on the bell.
“Can you send some cute hockey players this way, too?” Misty chirps, collecting the plates. “I could really use one right about now.” She broke up with DJ the day after Brenna’s birthday, afraid that having him in her life could case turmoil in Brenna’s and mine. She finally understood why I was so apprehensive about having DJ around, aside from just not liking him as a person. And, if Misty is good at one thing, it’s not holding a grudge against me.
I smile. “I’ll keep on the lookout.”
“Cath? Can you come in here for a sec?” Lou calls from her office.
I cringe, checking the clock. Brett will be here any second and I haven’t changed out of my uniform yet. But what am I going to say? “Sure. What’s up?”
She nods toward the door.
I push it shut. “Thanks for letting me take off early.”
“No problem.” She frowns at her computer screen before leaning back, sliding her reading glasses off her nose. “Is Brenna at your parents’ place?”
“No. Our place, with them. And Stella.”
She chuckles. “Hildy get over the fiasco in the backyard yet?”