by T. K. Leigh
Carla hesitates, looking back at me, as if for permission. I nod, never feeling as proud of my daughter as I do right now.
Thank you, she mouths as she allows Charlotte to pull her toward the living area, Alyssa close on their heels. I can’t help but smile as I watch them take turns showing her their favorite toys. It only takes a matter of minutes before they’re laughing and joking, the past six years evaporating.
“You’re a good man, Andrew Brinks,” Brooklyn says, looping an arm around my waist.
“No, I’m not,” I respond as I observe the changed family dynamic. Even Molly seems to be giving Carla the benefit of the doubt. “I’m just trying to make up for a lifetime of regrets. Everyone deserves a second chance.” I kiss the top of her head, inhaling a soothing breath. “You taught me that lesson. And I’ll forever be grateful you found it in your heart to give me that second chance.”
“Or third or fourth,” she jokes, as she always does when we talk about this.
“Nuance, my dear Brooklyn. Simply a nuance.” Our eyes lock and I bring my mouth to hers, our kiss delicate and unhurried.
“For the record, I’d give you a tenth chance if need be.”
“Good to know, but let’s hope it never gets to that.”
“Why not?” She pulls back, biting on her lower lip, a flirtatious air about her. “I hear makeup sex is really hot.” She waggles her brows.
My eyes grow heated as I lower my voice. “Well then, let’s pick something to disagree about and find out how hot it can be, although I’m not sure anything can top this morning.”
“You’re probably right, but we can spend the rest of our lives trying.”
I pull her against me. “I like the sound of that.”
Chapter 32
Brooklyn
“You’re a natural at that.” Drew leans over my shoulder as I bounce the small blue bundle in my arms.
I bring the three-day-old baby up to my nose, nuzzling him, inhaling that powder fresh scent that’s like an aphrodisiac. “It’s been an eternity since I’ve held a baby this small.” I kiss his wrinkled forehead, my lips lingering. “The last time was probably when Charlotte was born.”
“I know how you can fix that,” Molly jokes.
“Absolutely not, Molly,” I respond quickly, shooting my eyes to where she relaxes on the love seat opposite me, all of us congregated in the living room of her house. She gave birth to Vincent Andrew McAllister earlier this week. We all respected her wishes for privacy while she was at the hospital, but now that she’s home, I can’t get enough of my little nephew. She doesn’t mind the extra half-dozen hands, either, especially when Gigi stops by with food, most notably those famous chocolate chip muffins.
“Why? What’s stopping you? You don’t have school to worry about anymore.”
I shrug, trying not to feel guilty about pulling out of my PhD program. For the longest time, I convinced myself it was something I wanted to do, but it was never my passion. It was something my father wanted. Maybe at some point down the road, I’ll consider it again, but I’m happy where I am, both in my personal and professional life. I don’t need a fancy office where I help patients with their ongoing problems. I’m content with a closet of an office and having to rush from foster home to foster home to check in on some of the most vulnerable kids there are, even if it might put me at risk, too.
My father has no idea I made this decision, although he probably figured I would. It’s early August, and I still haven’t spoken to him since learning what he did to Drew. I keep telling myself I will. I just don’t know what to say.
“Drew already has his hands full. No need to turn us into the Brady Bunch.”
“He has plenty of help.” She gestures out the French doors to the back yard where Alyssa and Charlotte blow bubbles with Carla and her son, Thomas. Over the summer, they’ve really gotten close to their mother, which worked to Drew’s advantage, allowing him to accept the coaching position with the Bruins. Now, it’s hard to remember what life was like before Carla. Then again, the woman we’ve all gotten to know isn’t the Carla she was all those years ago. She’s kind, loving, warm, and the love she has for those two girls is unparalleled…except by Drew.
“We’re not married.”
“That didn’t stop Noah and me,” she reminds me playfully.
“We’ve only been together a few months. It’s far too early to discuss the subject.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Drew flirts, winking. He leans into me, his voice a low growl. “I’m pretty sure when you moaned my name last night you said you were never going to leave me.”
I roll my eyes, pushing him away. “That’s not the same thing.”
“True, but think about all the fun we could have trying to make one of these.” He reaches for little Enzo, the nickname Gigi bestowed on him in remembrance of Molly and Drew’s father. He brings him up to his face, snuggling the little bundle. As I watch him, I’m pretty sure my ovaries explode at how loving he is.
Every woman dreams of finding a man they hope will be a wonderful father to their children. I know I’ve found one. He’s been nothing short of a doting father to Alyssa and Charlotte, an amazing brother to Molly, and an incredible friend to me. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but if children are involved, I know he’ll be just as devoted to them as he has been to all of us.
“And pregnancy sex?” Molly interjects, overhearing the conversation I thought we kept private. “I think Noah’s relieved the doctor told me no funny business for six weeks.”
“Jesus, Molly,” Drew exclaims, just like he always does when she talks about things no brother wants to hear his sister discuss. “Enough.”
“Enough with you taking the Lord’s name in vain in front of my little bambino.” She points a finger at him, feigning annoyance.
He rolls his eyes. “If you ever stepped foot in a church, it would probably erupt in flames.”
“What can I say? I learned from the best. There are only two reasons to go to church.”
Drew and Molly share a smile. “Funerals and weddings,” they say simultaneously, then erupt in laughter. It doesn’t disturb little Enzo, who still slumbers in Drew’s arms.
“Hello?” a familiar voice rips through the jovial atmosphere.
I stiffen, shooting my wide eyes to the kitchen to see my father walking in, carrying a powder blue gift bag, along with a stuffed bunny. I jump to my feet, my breath catching, my heart racing, looking for an escape from this conversation.
“Relax, Brooklyn,” Molly says, getting up from her position, wincing from the movement. She heads toward me, running her hands down my arms. “I invited him.”
“What? Why—”
“I love you, even though you’re stubborn sometimes.”
I glance over her shoulder to where my father’s standing off to the side, uncertain. He appears tired, worn out, weary, like he hasn’t slept in months. I know it’s because of me, because I’ve refused to talk to him, see him, acknowledge him.
“I would have given anything to have a few more minutes with my father.”
“We both would.”
I shift my gaze to Drew, my brows furrowed, a heaviness in my stomach.
“Yours is still here. Don’t squander that opportunity,” Molly continues.
I have no problem telling the kids in my care to confront their problems, their demons, their monsters. When it comes to my life, I have trouble listening to my own advice.
“Remember what you said? Everyone deserves a second chance.”
I knew this day would eventually come. Drew found it in his heart to come to terms with what Carla did. If he can find the strength to forgive her, I need to find it in my heart to start the conversation with my father.
Drawing a deep breath, I step away from Molly. “Hey, Dad.”
He smiles, as if the sound of my voice quiets the turmoil. “Hey, Brooklyn,” he barely manages to choke out. He swallows hard, then composes himself before look
ing at Molly, holding out the bag and bunny. “Congratulations.” He gestures toward the baby in Drew’s arms. “He’s beautiful.”
“Would you like to hold him?” Drew asks.
Dad looks from Drew to Molly, silently asking permission.
She nods enthusiastically. “Of course you can hold him. He needs to get used to you, since the way these two are headed…” She gestures between Drew and me, “you’ll officially be part of our family soon.”
Drew hands little Enzo to my father, who brings him close, inhaling. “There’s nothing like that new baby smell.”
I can’t help but laugh, considering I thought the same thing. “I know, right?”
He meets my gaze, moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Brook. Truly. When I told you the truth, I tried to excuse away my behavior. No more. I have no excuse, only sincere remorse. I hope you can somehow find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“Everything can always be lost,” I murmur, recalling words Aunt Gigi has said repeatedly whenever I’d argue with Drew or Molly as kids. Something she continues to remind Alyssa and Charlotte of when they fight.
I could hold this against my father for the rest of his life, but where would that get me? What would I gain? Absolutely nothing. If my father didn’t do what he did, there’s no telling where I would be now, who would be here now.
I steal a glance outside at Alyssa and Charlotte, the likelihood they wouldn’t be here strong. Or maybe Drew and I would have gone our separate ways and never found our way back to each other. I couldn’t imagine my life any other way. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, my father’s actions have had a direct impact on the happiness I’m blessed with.
“I’m sorry, too, Dad.”
“Are we…” He takes a breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Are we okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, this man in front of me a stark contrast to the man I always thought him to be. I haven’t seen him this broken and upset since my mother died. It’s refreshing to know he’s human, too. That he makes mistakes. That he’s not perfect. It takes the pressure off me.
“We’re okay.”
Drew drapes an arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple. I raise my eyes to his.
“If you hadn’t done what you did, we may not be here right now.”
“And you’re happy?” Dad presses.
“Happier than I’ve ever been.”
He smiles a genuine smile. “That’s all I care about.”
“I should get home. Ana will be getting out of work soon,” Dad says later after Gigi has stuffed our bellies with more food than necessary. “Can you walk out with me? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
His tone gives me pause, but I agree. “Of course.” I lean toward Drew, grazing his lips with mine. “I’ll be right back.”
“Ooooh…,” Charlotte teases, as she’s been prone to do every time we kiss in front of her.
“If you keep doing that, your face will get stuck that way,” Carla admonishes.
I glance across the table at her. To have her here when just months ago, we thought she was trying to tear our family apart reminds me I did the right thing with my dad. Drew gave Carla a second chance, even after what she tried to do. My dad did what he did out of love, misguided as it may have been. I can’t fault him for that.
“There’s nothing wrong with kissing, Charlotte. It’s what people do when they’re in love.”
“I thought that’s why they sleep together naked.”
The entire room goes silent for a moment, every pair of adult eyes wide. I have no idea how to react or respond, feeling more awkward than normal, considering my father’s here. Then he bursts into a hearty laugh, everyone else following suit.
“See what you’ve missed out on?” Drew says to Carla, throwing his napkin on his plate. “Be glad you weren’t present when they asked if Molly ate her baby and that’s why her belly was getting bigger.”
“What did you say to that?” she asks in hushed tones.
“I let them believe it. I’m not going into detail about how all that works. That’s your job now.”
“Great.” She reaches for her iced tea, rolling her eyes, but I can tell she’s thrilled to take on that role.
“Shall we?” Dad’s voice forces my attention back to him.
“Of course.” I stand, watching as he says his goodbyes, then follow him through the house and out the front door. We walk in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence after too long apart. As we approach his truck, I notice his nerves increase. “What is it, Dad?”
We stop walking and he faces me, grabbing my hand in his, running his fingers along my knuckles. “I’ve had a lot of time to think these past few months.” He pauses, laughing slightly. “You certainly gave me a lot to think about.” His light expression turns serious. “I loved your mother very, very much.”
“I know that, Dad.”
“I made a lot of mistakes because I was trying to make up for the mother’s love you were missing out on. I suppose it was my way of holding onto her. In the grief counseling meetings I attend, they discuss the importance of moving on, of living your life. For the longest time, I didn’t want to move on, thought it meant disrespecting the memory of your mother.”
“That’s not true.”
“I understand that now. But it took quite a while for me to do so.”
“Well, you’ve always been stubborn,” I joke lovingly. “It’s where I get it from.”
“Your mother was much more stubborn than me. I can almost imagine her yelling at Saint Peter when she got up to Heaven, arguing it wasn’t her time yet.” A twinkle in his eye, his lips pinch together in a nostalgic smile before he continues. “But now, it’s time for me to move on. To cherish your mother’s memory the way she’d want me to.”
“What do you mean?” My voice is guarded as my stomach knots with nerves, worried I’m not going to like what he needs to tell me.
“Ana and I are moving in together, and she’s agreed to marry me.”
My jaw drops as I process this dramatic change in events, rendered speechless. It’s unexpected but amazing at the same time.
“I just… I want your blessing first.”
I fling my arms around his neck, hugging him. “You don’t need my blessing! This is great news! It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.”
“I know,” he says, placing his hand on my lower back and bringing me closer to him, our hug lasting longer than usual. “I see that now.”
“I’m so happy for you.” I pull back, squeezing his biceps. “Honestly.”
He pauses, his eyes locked on mine. “There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
He draws in a deep breath, assessing me. “Since Ana and I both lost someone, we decided our best chance was a fresh start, a clean slate, one where we’re not surrounded by the memories.”
My pulse picks up as I prepare myself for the words I know are about to come.
“We’ve bought a new place together. I’m putting the house up for sale.”
“Oh.”
I release my hold on him, swallowing hard. This news hits me differently than him marrying Ana, like he just told me a loved one had died. I suppose having to say goodbye to your childhood home is similar to losing a lifelong friend, one who stood by you through all the ups and downs of your early years, was witness to triumphs and defeats, moments of happiness and sadness.
“I know it’s not the news you want to hear.” He pulls me into a hug once more, kissing my temple. “But you have a new life now, too. If I’ve learned anything over the past almost thirty years, it’s better to look forward than be stuck in the past.” He points toward the front door of Molly’s house, his voice strong and powerful. “Your future is sitting in there with more love for you than I could have ever dreamed. No matter what, you’ll still have all those great memories we made in that house. Now it’s time to make new ones. For all of us. It’s what we a
ll deserve.”
I nod against his chest, relishing in the sound of his beating heart. “Yes, it is.”
Chapter 33
Brooklyn
My heart heavy, I make my way from my car and up the steep hill to my father’s house the last Sunday in August. It’s only 6:30 in the morning, but the moving truck is already backed up in the driveway, boxes piled in the open garage. Last night was restless for me with what today would bring, the idea of saying goodbye to my childhood home causing me to toss and turn.
As the sun rose, I got up to go for a drive before coming over here. Feeling nostalgic, I took a detour by Wes’ house in Cambridge, slowing when I saw moving trucks parked in his driveway, too. I hadn’t spoken to him since I called off our wedding, but as I was about to drive past, his eyes found mine. He smiled, a simple gesture, but in that one motion, I knew he’d be okay, that he’d find someone who would love him the way he deserves to be loved.
Morning dew covers the grass as I head toward the front door, bringing my key up to the lock. It’s a little bittersweet, knowing this is the last time I’ll be able to use this key to let myself in. The last time I’ll enter the house and breathe in the aroma that is uniquely home. The last time I’ll bask in the security these four walls have always provided me.
Blinking back my tears, I insert my key, turning the knob, letting myself into the small house I grew up in. Now, the place is barely recognizable. Much of the furniture has been sold and no longer clutters the tiny living space. Boxes are stacked almost to the ceiling, all labeled with the room they belong in. The walls are barren, devoid of the multitude of family photos my father displayed with pride.
I shift my eyes out the front window, a lump building in my throat when I see the swing blowing slightly. That swing brings back so many memories, ones I wish I could keep with me forever. It feels like it was just yesterday when Drew pushed me on that very swing, then was inches away from kissing me. I can almost see the ghosts of our past out there, laughing nervously as we realized we weren’t just the friends we thought we were.