Beautiful Fall

by Jordyn White

  “Elizabeth?”

  “Yes.” My heartbeat speeds up a bit, and my skin starts to crawl in anticipation.

  “It was a repo property. He bought it at auction several years ago. First One Bank was the seller. They’d foreclosed on a Timothy and Patricia Reeves.” My heart starts to pound. “Do you need me to go further back than that?”

  “No.” My voice is surprisingly calm. In fact, aside from my pounding heart, I feel surprisingly calm. “Thank you, Jeff.”

  This time I do get out of the car. I go up the walk and to the wide front windows. I cup my hands around my eyes and peek in. There’s a small front room, a brick fireplace, and an arched entryway that appears to lead to a family room and kitchen. No furniture. No trash. No sign of the previous owners. It doesn’t look like it’s been vacant for long. The front landscape is well kept.

  I go around the garage to the side gate and let myself into the backyard. It’s small, but also well kept. Green grass, massive purple bougainvillea along the back brick wall, and a large valley oak in the center. No pool, but a cute back patio.

  I wonder if this has been maintained as a rental, and if so, how long it’s been vacant.

  On my way back to my car, I send George Hollister an email:

  I want a meeting with you ASAP. My brothers won’t be there. Just me.

  “So you think that means Mason Reeves really is your father’s son?” Brett asks as he rinses a plate and loads it into the dishwasher. We had dinner at my place this time, and Max and Montana are in the backyard playing.

  I’m clearing the placemats off the table and stacking them in a pile “It doesn’t prove anything, obviously. But there’s definitely some sort of personal connection with this property. Otherwise, why would Dad have bought it to start with? It wouldn’t have been as an investment, I can tell you that. He taught us what to look for in investment properties and that’s just not anything he would’ve bought.”

  “Okay, but that doesn’t necessarily mean Mason Reeves was the product of an affair.”

  “That’s true.” I put the placemats away in the credenza. “But the fact that we know there was a personal connection and he didn’t want us to know what it was sure suggests it.”

  Brett sighs and drops some silverware into the caddy in the dishwasher. “Yes. Maybe.”

  I gather the salt and pepper shakers off the table and bring them into the kitchen to put them away. I’m chewing my lip, wondering what he’ll think about this next part. As Brett continues to load, I get a clean rag and wipe off the table.

  When I’m done, I wring out the rag, drape it over the center of the sink, and lean back against the counter. “I asked George Hollister for a meeting.”

  Brett closes up the dishwasher and turns to face me. “He already said he wouldn’t tell you.”

  I nod, my eyes absently tracing the tile design on the floor. “And I think he’s going to stick to his word or he would’ve spilled by now. But there’s one thing I can ask for, and he can’t say no.” I look at Brett. “Mason Reeve’s contact information.”

  Brett raises his brows slowly. “Why would you want that?”

  I shrug and look back to the floor. “I want answers.”

  “Lizzy,” Brett says in a cautionary tone, stepping over to me. “Whoever this guy is, it sounds like he wouldn’t appreciate being contacted.”

  “But... he could be my brother.”

  Brett cocks his head at me. “Your—” He stops, giving me a searching look. “Your brother. So, you want to invite him to family functions or something?”

  I push off from the counter and step past him. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I just want to know the truth. And if he’s my father’s son, yeah, that matters. He’d be family.”

  “Lizzy—”

  I spin, facing him, needing him to understand. “I know this may not make sense to you. But you don’t understand. There are all kinds of people in our lives that are like family to us. So many of our managers and employees. Katherine Camillo. Hell, Rayce is so fond of Guido down at the pizza place he calls him Uncle Guido. I’m not related to any of those people by blood, but I could be related to Mason Reeves by half.”

  Brett’s face softens.

  “I can’t just ignore that, Brett. I can’t. He could be my brother.”

  Brett comes up and pulls me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his waist, rest my cheek on his chest, and close my eyes, sighing.

  “I understand,” he says softly.

  Staying in his arms, I lift my face to him. He’s looking at me with loving compassion. Why do I keep doubting his love for me?

  He caresses my hair. “I understand you might want to talk to this guy. I understand you want answers. I understand, and am amazed by the fact that you’re willing to open your arms and welcome him into the family. If he is family. That’s great, honey. It is. But, it seems to me, that’s not what Mason Reeves wants.”

  We don’t know that, I silently protest.

  “Maybe he’s just afraid we’ll reject him,” I say weakly. But then why reject his inheritance?

  “Or...” he says gently, “maybe he’s rejected you.”

  I frown. “But...” I let the word trail off. But what?

  “Sweetheart,” Brett says softly but firmly, “let it go. Leave the man be.”

  Chapter 38

  Brett

  The next day, I pull into the parking area of Veteran’s Park, with Max buckled into his booster seat in the back. Jessica asked it if would be all right if she talked privately with me about something when I got here. It’s a little strange, this new, courteous Jessica.

  I agreed, and she asked me to let Max know ahead of time, so he would be prepared to play on the equipment by himself for a bit before she joined him. That’s a degree of foresight that’s new, too.

  In fact, every interaction I’ve had with her recently reminds me more of the old Jessica, instead of the crazed woman she’s been for the last few years. Even though I’ve been trying not to let my past trip me up and focus on my future, seeing the old Jess has been messing with me a bit.

  I have a strange feeling about our meeting today. It’s become increasingly apparent that Jess still has feelings for me. She hasn’t acted on them, and of course I’ve done nothing to encourage her.

  But the last time I saw her at rehab, smiling and looking hopeful about her pending release, I came to a rather alarming realization.

  If I wasn’t with Lizzy, I’d be tempted to try things again with Jess. For Max’s sake, if for no other reason.

  It was shocking to realize that if I were a free man, Jess would pull me back in and I’d be back to hoping again.

  I haven’t talked to Lizzy or anybody about this. I don’t even know what to think about it, let alone what to say about it.

  I pull into the space next to her car and she gets out. She’s died her hair back to her natural color, a light brown, and has styled it so it’s in soft waves down to her shoulders. She’s wearing jeans and a lightweight sweater. She gives me a nervous glance before bending slightly so she can smile and wave at Max through the window.

  I let her get him unloaded and wander onto the grass in front of the car while the two give one another enthusiastic greetings. They come to me together, her hand on his shoulder. “How are you, Brett?”

  “Fine. How are you feeling?” She was just released yesterday, and is living with a friend until she can get a job and place of her own.

  “Good.” She rubs her hand nervously on Max’s shoulder, and gives me that look that tells me she still has feelings for me. My feeling of dread increases.

  I turn my attention to Max. “You ready to play, buddy?”

  He nods and the three of us head deeper into the park toward the playground equipment, looking like the family we would’ve been. “I wanted to bring Montana,” Max tells his mother, “but Daddy said no.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jessica glance at me. She knows about Lizzy,
but I haven’t discussed my relationship with her. “Well, maybe we can get you your own dog,” Jessica says.

  “We can talk about that later,” I say.

  “I like Montana,” Max says.

  We approach a bench facing the playground and slow. “How about you go play while Daddy and I talk, all right, Max?”

  “Then will you push me on the swings?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  He smiles, as trusting as he’s ever been of her promises. It’s such a relief to know she means it this time.

  Max runs off and we hover there awkwardly. Judging by the expression on her face, she’s definitely working up to say something big. There is a bench nearby, and I gesture to it. We wander over and settle in.

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  She’s angled slightly toward me, but we’re not touching. Her hands are clasped on her lap. “I have an interview Monday.”

  I raise my brows. “Already? That’s great. Where at?”

  “It’s a little law office downtown. They need a secretary.”

  “Are you feeling ready for that?”

  She nods. “I think so. I’m feeling so much better.” Her hands are on her lap, and she’s absently playing with her fingertips. A nervous habit. Other than that, she does seem more calm, and more herself, than I’ve seen in years. “Anyway, I’m determined. I’m never doing that to myself again. Or my family.”

  The damage is already done, though, I think, but I should be supportive. “That’s good, Jess.”

  She takes a deep breath, and scoots half an inch closer. My heartrate picks up.

  “I know I let you down, Brett.”

  She holds my gaze for a moment with sincere, brown eyes. I look away to Max, and she continues with words I needed to hear long, long ago. “I let Max down. I let myself down. I’m so sorry.” The soft pounding of his feet on the hard plastic bridge echoes across the park.

  I nod, keeping my eye on Max as he goes down the slide. “Okay.”

  “You didn’t deserve that. Either of you. I really want to fix things.”

  My blood’s pounding thickly, knowing what’s coming. “Well, it seems you’re on your way.”

  “No.” She scoots infinitesimally closer again. I hold my breath a moment, eyes still on Max. “I mean, really fix things.”

  I look at her.

  She gives me a soft, pleading look. “Do you think you might be willing to give us another chance?”

  “Us?” I repeat, not quite believing she’s saying this, now that she actually is. “You and me?”

  She nods, her eyes genuine and vulnerable.

  “We’ve been divorced for two years.”

  “Which was completely my fault.”

  I’m not going to argue with her there.

  “I still love you, Brett.” I look away again, watching our son going down the slide. She keeps talking. Keeps saying it all. “I never really stopped loving you. I was just... I don’t know, just so lost.”

  She scoots next to me, our legs almost touching, and takes my hand. I stare down at my hand in hers. The wind pushes through, rustling the leaves in the trees.

  “I don’t know if you still love me, but I know you still care. Let me earn that love back. Please. For Max’s sake.”

  I bring my eyes to hers. “For Max’s sake?”

  “Please, Brett. Please, I beg you. Give me a chance to put our family back together.”

  As I look at the mother of my child, I don’t know what’s right or wrong here. I really don’t. But right or wrong, I do know what my answer has to be.

  Chapter 39

  Lizzy

  It’s been an hour and a half since Brett was supposed to meet with Jessica, and I still haven’t heard from him. I sent a text about fifteen minutes ago asking how it went. I didn’t technically need to, since he said he would let me know when he was done so we could go do something together, but I couldn’t stop myself. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong, and the fact that he hasn’t replied is not helping.

  I wish I had talked to him about all this beforehand like I had planned, but the whole situation with Mason Reeves kind of took over everything.

  Now I just got a text from Rod saying there’s been a water main break at the Cottages. I send a quick text to Rayce and Brett, letting them know of the situation and hop in my car. By the time I get there, Rod and I are staring down a flooded parking lot and I’ve finally received a text from Brett. It said simply, On my way.

  So he hasn’t been replying to me but this he’ll respond to?

  I’m stewing about it as Rod and I walk the property, assessing the damage. He already got the water turned off, thankfully. It doesn’t look too bad. The entire drive behind the cottages is under water, which reaches to the front porches of several different buildings, but the cottages themselves are okay.

  Feeling irritated and juvenile, I send Brett a text. Don’t bother. The cottages are fine.

  By the time Rayce arrives, we’ve determined the broken pipe leads from the city main, and is therefore our responsibility to repair. Rod, Rayce, and I walk the affected area, deciding just what needs to be done. Some water will soak into the ground, but Rod recommends a crew to come in and drain the rest so we can quickly get to work fixing the pipe.

  “My bigger concern is the cause of this break.” I scratch at the base of my ponytail. Being a Saturday, none of us are in work clothes. I rushed down here in my jeans and fitted tee. Rayce is in his workout pants, but still manages to look distinguished as always. Connor and Whitney are out of town, so he’s missing all the fun. “How old are these pipes?”

  “Not sure,” Rod says, shaking his head at the implication to my question. “I can find out.”

  “If the pipes are old, maybe we need to replace the whole line to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

  Rayce groans, probably reacting to how this could potentially blow our margins clear out of the water. I’m distracted, however, by Brett’s truck coming up the drive.

  My heart does a little flip, like it often does when I first see him, but my skin also starts to crawl with fear. At the sight of him, I’m not angry anymore. I’m just scared.

  “Where’s the line run?” Rayce asks, and I try to return my attention to the work at hand. I tell myself there’s no reason to panic or worry. They just talked. That’s all. Nothing bad, probably. But as our conversation continues, I keep glancing at Brett as he gets out of his truck and heads toward us. I can’t read his expression. He looks worn. Serious. My nerves shoot up in response.

  Rayce and Rod have spotted him as well, and Rod gives a brief wave of acknowledgement as he begins to answer Rayce’s question. “The pipe starts there.” He points toward the turn off that leads from the main road to the Cottages. “It goes under this road all the way to the end.” He sweeps his arm down the road and to the far side, where the cottages end.

  Shit.

  “How much would it cost to replace all that?” Rayce asks.

  “I’m not sure. We’ll have to get some quotes. But I say we drain things first and take a look. Replacing the whole thing might not be necessary.”

  “All right,” I say. “How soon can we get this drained?”

  Rod pulls out his phone. “Let me see what I can set up.”

  My eyes sweep over the pond of flood water and I exchange looks with Rayce. We both sigh. “Nothing to be done,” he says.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  Brett comes up, taking in the scene with sharp eyes. “Wow.” He gives me a weary smile, but doesn’t touch or kiss me. He maybe wouldn’t have anyway since we’re here on business and Rod’s right there, but I don’t know.

  My mind is running as Rayce gets him caught up on things and Rod talks on the phone. Brett is listening and responding, but he’s definitely distraught about something, and I don’t think it’s the water break.

  Rod says, “Hang on,” and lowers his phone. “They can come this evening a
nd start in, or you can let some leech back into the ground and have them drain the rest tomorrow. That’d cost a little less, since they charge by the hour, but we might have more mud to contend with if we wait.”

  “How long will it take them to drain it?” Rayce asks.

  While Rayce and Rod discuss hours tonight versus hours tomorrow, I pull out my phone and check the weather forecast. No rain and reasonable highs given that we’re in the early part of November.

  “They can come tomorrow,” I say. “Let some of the natural drain off occur. There’s no rain in the forecast to worry about. And either way, we’ll have mud to deal with, won’t we?”

  Rayce nods in agreement and Rod goes back to his call, setting things up. We spend the next half hour scheduling a couple companies to come assess things after the water’s drained and bid out their repairs.

  The whole time, Brett and I keep exchanging uneasy glances and I’m overwhelmed with a sense of foreboding. What in the hell did they talk about?

  As soon as we say our goodbyes to Rod and Rayce, Brett takes me by the hand and leads me between two cottages, toward the boardwalk.

  “Can we talk?”

  “What happened with Jessica?”

  He sighs and rubs his forehead. “It was... a lot. Sorry I didn’t respond to your texts sooner, but it ended up being a long conversation.”

  “Max is still with her?”

  He nods. “He’s at the apartment with her.”

  This gets my skin crawling even more. That wasn’t part of the plan at all. “I thought you didn’t want him there yet.”

  “I know, but... he had to wait so long at the park, I felt badly. And... anyway, she’s ready.”

  We step across the shallow bank of sand and onto the wooden boardwalk, turning right. We’ve had sea fog off and on all day, and some of it is trying to creep back in on the sunshine right now. “What happened?”

  He runs his hand through his hair and sighs again. “She asked to come back.”

  My legs feel like rubber. I knew it was this. I knew it. “Come back to you?”