by Jamie Wesley
His disgust was too much for her to take. Her frustration boiled over. “Yes, I did! Everyone thinks he’s perfect when he’s anything but.”
“Listen to yourself. You’re so poisoned you don’t care who you hurt in your thirst for revenge and need to make Mommy love you. Grow the fuck up, Caitlin. You’re an adult and control what you do.”
His words, his tone, stunned her. Blasted her. She retreated. He didn’t know the heartache, the confusion, the cold nights wondering if they’d find enough money for food, let alone to pay the rent. “If you can’t see why this was important to me, then we don’t have anything else to say to each other.”
His cold eyes bit into her. “We don’t.”
He turned on his heel. A few seconds later, the front door slammed. The sudden silence nearly suffocated her.
Chapter Thirteen
“Caitlin, honey, what’s wrong?” her mom asked.
Rocking side to side, Caitlin pushed a hand through her hair. “I need to talk to you. I have two things to say.”
“Okay. Come in.” Her mom guided her inside with a hand at her elbow.
They settled on the sofa in the living room. Good. Caitlin didn’t think her weight could support her any longer.
“What’s this about?”
“I know.” The words burst from her with the speed of a torpedo. She’d been holding them back for so long.
Her mom frowned. “Know what?”
“Who my father is.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” Her mother spoke slowly, haltingly, like she was struggling to remember how to form words.
“I know that Mack Jameson is my father.”
Her mom fell back against the sofa cushion. “What? How?”
“When I was cleaning out your closet to get the clothes to donate a few weeks ago, I found the letter he wrote you.”
“Oh.” Her mother, always so self-assured, always such a steady presence, looked shell-shocked. Her hands shook in her lap until she noticed Caitlin watching, then she balled them into fists. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“The letter made me so mad. I planned to confront and humiliate him in front of all his colleagues the night I met Brady. But I couldn’t go through with it, and I was embarrassed by my cowardice. All I wanted to do was make you proud of me, and I couldn’t go through with it. What kind of daughter was I if I couldn’t confront the jerk who would’ve preferred that I’d never been born?”
“Oh, honey, you would have been who you’ve always been—the kindhearted daughter who never likes to cause anyone distress and who always tries to boost others’ spirits. The one who cracks jokes to keep everyone laughing.”
Caitlin rejected the kind words with a shake of her head. “But what he did to you—”
“Was horrible, but I have the two best kids a mother could ever hope to have.”
“I’ve never lived up to your expectations.”
Her mother wrapped an arm around Caitlin, who snuggled into the embrace, the familiar scent of her mom’s favorite perfume comforting her. “What are you talking about? I’ve always been proud of you. Yes, I push you, but only because I never want you to settle. There’s greatness inside of you, and sometimes I feel like you don’t see it. You’re so busy trying to please others that you don’t concentrate on what you want and everything you’ve accomplished.”
“You gave me and Chris such a great life. I wanted to repay you. I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”
“Oh, honey. I’ve never expected you to be perfect. How can I when I’m far from it?”
Caitlin gaped at her mother. “What are you talking about? You raised us on your own. Kept food on the table all by yourself. Made sure we stayed on the straight and narrow. Went to law school.”
“I did, and it wasn’t easy. It would’ve been easier if I hadn’t let my pride get in the way and taken your father to court. Yes, he wrote that letter and check, but there was no reason that had to be the end of it. I had the law on my side. Pride and embarrassment kept me from going after him, which wasn’t fair to you and your brother, but it’s proof that I’m not perfect. I don’t expect you to be perfect either. I just want you to fight for what you want. Will you make mistakes? Of course. We all do. But I will always be proud of you.”
Caitlin nodded, hearing the truth in the words. Accepting them for the first time in her life. “Since we’re on the subject, you should know that I’m happy being a radio producer. It’s challenging work, and I can’t imagine doing anything else, including being the host of the show.”
Miranda chuckled. “That’s my daughter I know and love.” Her smile slipped away. “Does Christian know?”
“Yes,” Caitlin admitted.
She threw her hands up in the air. “Lord, you two, always keeping secrets and using twin-speak to communicate. Always did right from the start. I’ve never been happier or more scared the day y’all were born. I guess this explains why I haven’t heard much from him lately.”
Caitlin exchanged a look with her mother. He always needed time to process upsetting news on his own. It was frustrating, but something they’d both come to accept over the years.
She asked a question that had been weighing on her mind. “Are you still in love with Mack?”
“Mack is a footnote in my life, nothing more. Any love I felt for him died a quick death when I read that letter.” Her mom squeezed her hand. “Speaking of the men in our lives, how does Brady come into this?”
Caitlin drew back her shoulders. “That’s the other thing I came to say. I’m not giving him up. He and I are a package deal, so you’re going to have to accept him.” The tears she’d been so determined not to shed welled up. “Oh, Mama. I screwed up. I hurt him, and he’ll never be able to forgive me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is. I told him I’d pretend to date him knowing I planned to use our time together to gather dirt on Mack. And he found out.” A loud sob escaped.
Her mother gathered her in her arms again. “Shh. Honey, it will be okay. Usually, things aren’t as bad as they seem.”
Caitlin wiped her eyes. “I love him so much.”
“I know.”
The calm assertion stunned her. “How? I just realized it myself.”
“I knew when I saw the way you looked at him the day you bought your car. I knew he couldn’t be all bad if he could convince you to get rid of that rattletrap, something no one else was able to do. I knew he was in love with you when he politely, but very clearly, put me in my place at dinner.”
Caitlin chuckled through her tears. “So you’re not going to tell me I’m making a mistake?”
“Will you listen if I do?”
“No.”
Her mom laughed. “That’s my girl. I’m never going to stop worrying about you. That’s a mother’s job. But it’s clear to me now that you’re an adult and know your own heart and mind.”
“But what if I can’t get him to change his mind?”
Her mom scoffed. “You’re Caitlin Monroe. He doesn’t stand a chance of resisting you.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“Love you too, honey.”
Caitlin stared at the door like a pit of vipers waited on the other side.
“You can go on in. He’s expecting you,” the admin assistant said.
Caitlin sent a small smile over her shoulder, knocked, and opened the door with a shaky hand. She was here because of Brady. While she’d been urging him to change, it was really her who needed to change. To learn how to forgive.
“Caitlin, nice to see you again,” Mack said, looking up from the clipboard in his hand. He stood. “What brings you by?”
“I need to talk to you.”
He held out a hand, inviting her to sit. “About Brady? Is everything okay?”
“I’d prefer to stand, and yes, Brady’s fine.” She assumed. She hoped. She hadn’t seen or heard from him other than the glimpses she got on TV in two days. “I’m
not here because of him.”
“Then what can I do for you?”
She’d rehearsed her speech a million times. “About thirty years ago, you wrote a letter to a woman pregnant with your child and essentially told her to get lost. I’m that child. One of them at least.”
The clipboard fell out of his hand, clattering on his desk. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
She looked him dead in the eye. “You know very well what I’m talking about. My mother is Miranda Monroe.”
The recognition of the name dawned on his face. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
Caitlin wanted to say something sarcastic, but the pure shock on his face stopped her. Instead, she dropped into the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Why did you lead my mom on only to leave her in the dust?”
He studied her. She met his gaze unflinchingly. After a few seconds, he nodded and sat. “I won’t sugarcoat the facts. I was young. And foolish. And selfish. I had the whole world at my feet. The money, the fame was coming at me in a rush, and I loved it. I didn’t want anything slowing me down.”
“You mean someone, not anything.”
He acknowledged her correction with a small nod. “I told myself that she was trying to trap me, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.” He shook his head. “I was twenty years old. I thought something better was around the corner. I tried my best to not think about your mom and what decision she chose to make. I assumed she had an abortion. That was easier than thinking I had a child out there. I never thought about it. I refused to.”
“Two children. Don’t forget I have a twin brother.”
He winced. A combination of regret and pain settled on his face. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. How long have you known?”
“A few weeks. The plan was to expose you in a tell-all column on a gossip site.”
He didn’t look shocked or angry. “I would have deserved it. You said that was the plan. And now?”
Caitlin lifted her chin. “I can’t do it. I’m not as bloodthirsty as I thought I was. Exposing you like that to the world is distasteful to me. That’s not who I am or what I want to be known for. What would it accomplish?”
“Thank you,” he said simply.
Her voice hardened. “I want you to know that I don’t regret writing it. I needed to get it all out. But ultimately it was for my eyes only. To help me reconcile my jumbled up emotions.”
He nodded.
“I also want you to know I had the best mom ever who did whatever she needed to do to provide for her kids and make sure we had a happy home.”
His lips lifted in a small smile. “In the little time I’ve spent with you, I can tell she did a great job. This probably won’t mean much to you, but when I got married, I did so with the promise to be a better man. I couldn’t rewrite history, but I could do my best going forward.” He hesitated. “It’s presumptuous of me to ask, but I’d like to get to know you and your brother. I can’t change what I did, but we can always steer our future.”
It was her turn to study him. “I wanted to hate you. I was convinced the nice-guy persona was an act. But it isn’t.”
He clasped his hands together. “I’ve grown up a lot over the past thirty years. I’d like the chance to prove it to you.”
Caitlin took a deep breath. “I’ve had to do some growing up lately, but I’m starting to get there. We can try.”
“Please. I would like that.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“I won’t give up, and neither will you. You have the Jameson genes in you. Giving up isn’t in your DNA.”
She offered up a small smile.
Mack rose and walked around the desk to sit next to her. “At some point in time, after we’ve gotten to know each other and only if you’re comfortable doing so, how would you feel about issuing a joint statement about our relationship? I would like to acknowledge you and your brother publicly. I don’t want it to be a dirty secret people whisper about in corners.”
She nodded. “Because it will come to light at some point. Although I’m not publishing the story, I’m sure the owner of the site will dig trying to figure it out. My brother and I aren’t a dirty little secret. You’re right. We want to control the story. Maybe you can come on the radio show. Noelle, the host, is my best friend.”
Mack patted her hand. “Good idea. We’ll do it when and if the timing is right.”
She stared at the connection, tentative, but real. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Speaking of people finding out, does Brady know?” Mack asked.
Her lips downturned. “He just found out, and he’s not speaking to me. He thinks I was using him to get to you and that my feelings for him aren’t genuine.”
“But they are.”
“Yes, they are.” She straightened in the chair. “Like you said, I have the Jameson genes in me, but I was molded by Miranda Monroe, so I’m going to be bold and ask for a favor.”
“Anything you want.”
Eight seconds left on the game clock. The Stampede were down one, but they had the ball. Time to make something happen. Time to make the home crowd go wild. Time to make their long-time rivals, the Spurs, head back to San Antonio on an unhappy flight.
A situation Brady always thrived on. Always. This is why he played the game. He wasn’t proud or happy to admit that his attention this game had sucked. The court was always his sanctuary. No matter what craziness was going on in his personal life, he could always count on going onto the court and forgetting it all for a couple of hours.
But today had been different. He’d missed some easy shots, some easy passes. His miscues hadn’t cost them the game. Not yet anyway. So he needed to concentrate like he hadn’t the entire game.
He looked to his coach for last-second instructions. Caitlin’s father. He wanted to believe she’d lied to him about her connection to Mack, but now that he knew, it was easy to see. They had the same eyes. How was he supposed to concentrate with that kind of knowledge dangling over his head? Should he tell Mack so he wasn’t ambushed by her story or stay the hell out of it? Did Mack deserve to be told if what Caitlin said was the truth?
He’d managed to resist looking into the stands the entire game. He’d become much too comfortable looking up for the support Caitlin always lent him. She wouldn’t be there anyway. He wouldn’t want her to be. She’d lied to him. Betrayed him. Used him.
But his eyes, independent of his brain, looked into the crowd. And there she was looking as beautiful as ever, sitting on the edge of her seat, like she couldn’t wait for the game to resume, hoping the Stampede would pull out a victory.
Excitement zoomed through him. No. What the hell was she doing here? Who’d given her a ticket to sit in the family section? Did she think he would forgive and forget with a snap of his fingers?
“All right,” Mack said, interrupting his thoughts. “This is what we’re going to do.” The coach drew up the play on his whiteboard. Brady barely needed to look at the drawing. It was their bread-and-butter play, the one they worked on in practice constantly, although Mack didn’t call it often in games. He didn’t want teams sitting on it, but this was a special occasion. Division rival with first place on the line.
Tilly would throw the ball in to Brady, and he and Maguire would work the pick and roll to get Maguire an open shot.
The whistle blew. Execution time. No more time to think about Caitlin and why she was here. Brady and his teammates took their spots on the court. Tilly threw the ball in. Brady dribbled and surveyed the court while a shot clock played in his head. Maguire worked the pick and roll like he was supposed to. The Spurs weren’t making it easy, bodying up on Maguire, but Brady was still able to get him the ball.
Three seconds.
No one was more surprised than he was when the ball came winging back to him. His instincts took over. He squared up and took the shot. The ball swished through the net as the buzzer went off.
Game
over.
The Stampede had won. Purple and white streamers poured down from the ceiling. The crowd roared. Brady turned in a circle to take it all in. This is why he played. This is what he loved. Basketball, as challenging as it could be, never let him down. Not like people. The game was always the same. It was always there for him.
And then he couldn’t see anything at all because his teammates mobbed him. Someone jumped on his back. Someone else slapped him on the head. Laughing, he braced himself as best as he could against the onslaught.
A few seconds later, the pile broke up, and he exchanged a high-five with Tilly. The team’s public relations director handed him a pair of headphones and pointed him to the scorer’s table for the postgame interview with the local TV crew.
“Brady, you had a tough game until the last shot,” the play-by-play announcer said.
He nodded. “Yeah, that happens sometimes. You have to keep fighting until the last second.”
“It didn’t look like that last play was designed to go to you.”
“No, it wasn’t, but the Spurs had it covered well. Luckily, Maguire saw that I was open and passed the ball to me. I’m just glad it went in.”
“Your teammates mobbed you afterward. That must have felt good. You really seem to be settling in with the team after some bumpiness in the early going.”
“I am. I won’t lie. Coming here was an adjustment after being in New York for so long, but the team is really coming together. I can’t wait to see where we end up. The future is bright.”
After the interviewer thanked him for joining the postgame show, Brady took off the headphones and ran off the court, high-fiving fans.
When he jogged into the locker room, he froze. Why wasn’t there any music playing? Why wasn’t anyone celebrating the fact that they’d just won the biggest game of the year?
“Hello,” he called out. “Was I the only one out there?”
His teammates turned to him one by one. Then they all bum-rushed him. The music started blaring. The celebration was on.
“Gentlemen, how are we going to celebrate tonight’s epic victory?” Tilly asked after the reporters had cleared out.