A Broken Soul (The Pembrooke Series Book 3)

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A Broken Soul (The Pembrooke Series Book 3) Page 4

by Prince, Jessica


  “Yep, last week,” I answered casually, pushing the way my stomach flipped at just the thought of her to the back of my mind. “First class is this afternoon.”

  “That Lilly Mathewson,” she continues in a conversational tone, “she’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Ah, hell,” I groaned. “Mom, come on.”

  “I’m just saying—” Oh, I knew damn good and well what she was just saying. Luckily, Sophia chose that moment to come barreling into the kitchen.

  “Daddy!”

  “Hey there, Angel!” I stood and scooped her up, pulling her tight against my chest. I might not be getting the Father of the Year award any time soon, and I may question whether my choices are right, but there was no doubt my little girl loved me, and when she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed so tightly, I got the sense that I was at least doing something right.

  “You wash behind your ears?” I asked, as I lowered her back down to the ground.

  “Yep.”

  “You use actual soap?” Who knew those were questions I’d be asking one day?

  “Uh huh.”

  “You brush your teeth?” And by the dejected look that spread across her face, I knew she hadn’t. “Go brush. Then it’s breakfast and school.

  She stomped her little foot. “But I just brushed ‘em yesterday!”

  “Oh my God, miracles really do happen!” I declared to the ceiling before looking back at my daughter. “Then we’re going for a new record and make it two days in a row.”

  Dad laughed. Mom covered her mouth to hide her smile. Sophia glared at me like she was trying to melt the skin off my face, but she turned and headed back up the stairs, so I’d take that as a win for the morning.

  It was probably the only one I’d get.

  “DADDY, I DON’T think my hair is right.”

  We stood inside the studio door, hand in hand, watching all the other little girls with their hair in perfect little buns on the top of their heads. Yeah, it was safe to say Sophia’s didn’t look right, seeing as I had no fucking clue how to do a bun.

  “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. It’s just…” I trailed off and looked at the knotted mass of tangles that sat slightly cock-eyed on her head, “…slightly different is all.”

  I could see sympathetic looks from the moms that were still milling about and wondered if ‘How to Make a Proper Bun’ was something I could find on Google.

  “Hey guys.” Lilly’s cheerful voice cut through my musings, and I turned just in time to see her closing the distance between us. She was wearing another one of those outfits that damn near bordered on indecent, and I had to fight my body’s reaction to seeing it.

  “Hi, Ms. Lilly!” Sophia shouted. “Look it! Daddy and me went to the store and bought a whole bunch of ballet clothes.” She pointed down at the bright pink leotard she was wearing that declared her a DIVA in fuchsia rhinestones. She didn’t have the first clue what a diva was, but the thing was pink on pink so she just had to have it… along with about a million others that looked just like it. I swear to God, I could feel by balls retreating back up into my stomach when the cashier was ringing up all the pepto-colored spandex.

  “Do you like it?”

  She bent down to Sophia’s level, the smile on her face like a punch to the chest. “I love it! You look like a professional ballerina!”

  I hadn’t thought it was possible for Soph to beam any prouder than she had when we first purchased the ugly leotard, but I was wrong. Her face glowed like she’d just gotten the world’s best compliment. And to Lilly’s credit, she didn’t say a damn word about that disaster of a bun on top of my daughter’s head.

  “We’re about to get started, so why don’t you go join the rest of the class?”

  “Okay!” Sophia took off without a backward glance, leaving me alone with the woman I’d been struggling to get out of my head.

  “Thanks for not saying anything about the…” I trailed off and pointed to my head, causing Lilly to laugh.

  “Hey, I’ve seen worse, I promise.”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck, my skin tingled with awareness at her close proximity. Jesus, I really was a fucking mess. “Yeah, well, I never was much of a stylist.”

  She placed her hand on my arm and sparks lit beneath her palm. “Hey, the fact that you even tried speaks volumes. Most dads wouldn’t have even bothered.”

  Christ, her compliment was exactly what I needed to hear. I’d been questioning whether or not I was doing right by my daughter for so long, that hearing another person validate my efforts was a shot right to the gut. There was no question about it. I needed to get the hell out of there. The guilt inside of me was quickly snuffing out the excitement I felt at Lilly’s declaration.

  I pulled my keys from my front pocket and began to move back. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get to it.”

  Her brows pinched in confusion at my retreating demeanor. “Yeah. We’ll see you after class.”

  “Yep.” I turned on my heels and headed for the door without looking back.

  Lilly

  “HELLO?” I CALLED out as I walked through my parents’ front door. No one greeted me, but I could hear soft music and the sound of hushed voices coming from the living room at back of the house.

  I walked on quiet feet down the hallway and stopped just in the doorway of the living room. The sight before me made me smile happily in spite of the painfully bittersweet feeling tying my insides in knots. It was absolutely beautiful and heartbreakingly sad all at the same time, and I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes as I watched my father hold my mom in his arms as he led her around, dancing to the crooning voice of Eric Clapton.

  “Wonderful Tonight” had been one of my mother’s favorite songs for as long as I could remember, and watching the two of them dance in a tight embrace transported me right back to my childhood. I could remember how seeing them, so in love, so enamored with each other, used to embarrass me when I was much younger. Now, well, I’d have given anything to make sure my parents had years more of this.

  My own tears finally spilled over onto my cheeks when I saw my mother’s eyes well up as Dad sang softly into her ear, and I thought to myself, God, to be so lucky as to have a love like theirs. And for some reason, the image of Quinn popped into my head at that very moment. I wasn’t naive enough to think I might possibly love the guy. I barely knew him. And his mercurial personality made it to where I wanted to sometimes punch him in the face, but I couldn’t deny feeling a pull between us. There was something there… like a shared pain that made me feel closer to him than anyone else I knew. It was strange, really, but I just couldn’t get the guy out of my head.

  “Oh, sweetheart! We didn’t hear you come in.” The sound of my mom’s voice pulled me back into the present, and I moved quickly to dash the tears off my cheeks.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Mom stepped back and ran her hands down her cream-colored pants to straighten them. “Nonsense.” She gazed at her watch before moving toward the kitchen. “Actually, I need to finish dinner. Thank goodness you showed up when you did or I would have overcooked the roast.” She bolted from the room, and I understood not to follow. She needed a few minutes alone to compose herself. My father’s illness was even harder on her than it was on me.

  “You mind dancing with your old man, Lilly Flower?”

  I beamed at my father and pushed off the doorway, stepping into his loving, familiar embrace. “Not at all.” Up close, I could tell he wasn’t feeling as well as he pretended. It had only been weeks since he told me he was dying, and already his body was starting to show signs. He was thinner than he’d been, almost frail. His complexion was sallow, dark purple smudges rested beneath his eyes. But he still smiled just like he always had.

  “How are you feeling, Dad?”

  He moved me around the room with such grace. “Couldn’t be better, sweetie. But right now I have the two most beautiful women in the world under one roof. What more c
ould a man ask for?”

  We grew quiet, and I rested my head on my father’s chest as we danced to Clapton’s “Change the World.”

  “How’s the dance school?” he asked a few minutes later.

  “It’s good.” I thought back to the classes I’d instructed earlier in the week, and Sophia came to mind. Such an animated, energetic little girl. “I have a new student, Sophia. She’s…” I stopped and laughed. “She’s a handful in the best way.”

  He chuckled beneath my cheek. “Sounds familiar. I bet she runs her parents ragged.”

  My smile faded a bit. “It’s just her dad. His wife died in a car accident a few years ago.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.” The song came to an end and Dad sucked in a breath. It hurt to see him so weak, but I maintained a neutral expression as I helped him over to the couch, taking a seat next to him.

  “Yeah,” I continued, knowing not to question how he was feeling. He hated being treated like an invalid. “It’s really sad. But you should see him with her, Dad. He took her and bought all of these bright-colored leotards because that’s what she wanted. He’s just so… big and rugged. I can’t picture him going into a dance shop and loading up on all these sparkly tutus and leotards.” Dad gave a small laugh. “Oh! And he even put her hair in a bun for her first class.” Now it was my turn to laugh. “It was a disaster. Like, really bad, but you could tell he tried his hardest.”

  Dad’s face grew thoughtful as he studied me. “Sounds like his daughter’s not the only one who’s caught your attention.”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that,” I argued, even though it was a lie. Quinn had done more than catch my attention, but it was pointless. I knew that much. “There’s nothing going on there. He’s… he’s a good guy. I don’t know him all that well, but I can tell.”

  Dad’s lips quirked up in a tiny grin. “Sure doesn’t sound like there’s nothing there.”

  I shook my head and whispered in a defeated voice. “Daddy, he still wears his wedding ring.”

  I watched as his face grew sympathetic. Reaching over, he patted my hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “What? No words of wisdom? No advice for me?” I asked in a joking tone while really, I was hoping my father would have some sage wisdom when it came to Quinn.

  His head shook just slightly. “No, honey. I’m sorry. When it comes to matters of the heart like that there’s no one that can help the person move past that kind of loss. It’s something that has to come from within. All you can do for someone like that is be his friend. Give him a shoulder to lean on, an outlet for his pain. That’s the very best gift you can give that man.”

  I leaned against him, letting myself enjoy the warmth as he looped his arm around my shoulders and held me. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

  “Trial and error, baby girl,” he chuckled. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you experience a lot of trial and error.”

  A wave of sadness crashed over me. It wasn’t fair. He should have had years left.

  As if reading my thoughts, Dad’s arm around me gave a tiny squeeze. “I know what’s going on in that head of yours, and I want you to stop it right now.” I pulled in a stuttered breath and clenched my eyes closed as he continued on. “I’ve had a good life, Lilly Flower. An amazing life. I’m sad that it’s being cut short, but I got you and your mother so I can’t regret a single day. I don’t want you to be sad for me. When I’m gone, I want you and your mother to remember all the good times.”

  I sniffled as a few stray tears broke loose as I sat up to look at him. Anger starting to push to the forefront. “You make it sound so easy. It’s not, Dad. I can’t just smile and pretend it’s all okay. I’m going to miss you too much. I don’t want to lose you.”

  His rough, weathered hands cupped my cheeks. He used his thumbs to brush my tears away as his eyes shimmered with his own. His voice sounded ragged as he spoke. “I know, sweetheart. I know. And I’m going to miss you, too. I know it won’t be easy, but you’re not losing me. I’ll always be with you. Never doubt that. It’ll be sad, but I need you to remember something for me. I need you to remember that I was able to let go with peace in my heart because of you and your mother. You two gave me more than I could have ever imagined. My time on Earth was so full, so miraculous, because of you.

  “Be sad, baby girl, it’s okay to be sad. But then, let it go. Live your life and search for the person who makes you complete. Strive to get what you and your mother gave to me. Never settle for less than that. You understand?”

  I nodded, unable to speak past the mass of emotion that was clogging my throat.

  “Good. Now, you know your mom’s roast is my favorite so let’s eat. I’m not dead yet, and I plan on rolling through those pearly gates fat and happy.”

  I couldn’t hold in my watery laugh, even as I smacked my father’s arm and stated, “Too soon, Dad. Too soon.”

  He grinned back at me and gave me a wink as I helped him from the couch. “Fine, no more death jokes.”

  “Much appreciated,” I deadpanned.

  We made it to the dining room just as my mother set the platter in the center of the table. “Just in time. Let’s eat.”

  Dad patted his belly and took his chair at the head of the table. “Great! Oh, and Elizabeth, your daughter’s gone all moon-eyed over a young man.”

  My eyes went wide as my head shot in my father’s direction. Leave it to my father to lighten the mood by throwing me right under the bus.

  And I couldn’t even be mad at him for it.

  Quinn

  “SMELLS GOOD,” I said as I entered my parents’ house through the back door just off the kitchen. Mom was standing at the counter, peeling potatoes as I made my way to her and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  “You here for dinner?” she asked, as I pulled the fridge door open and grabbed a beer.

  I took a gulp and leaned back against the wall, crossing my ankles. “Yeah. Soph’s at a sleepover again tonight. Figured I’d hang with you and Dad for a while. Speaking of…” I peeked around the doorway into the hall. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He had to run to the hardware store. The garbage disposal’s been acting up. He’s finally going to get around to replacing it.”

  I laughed as I picked up a piece of potato and popped it in my mouth, earning a smack on the hand from my mother. “About time. It’s only been what? Two months?”

  “Three,” she added dryly. “That man’s convinced he can fix anything. I was this close to shoving one of his tools down inside and turning it on.”

  “Glad you didn’t. He’d probably have a heart attack if you ruined one of his wrenches.”

  “Yes, well, it would serve him right,” she muttered, as she picked up a knife and began chopping. “I’m surprised you didn’t have other plans for this evening.” She tried her best to come off conversational, but I knew exactly what she was doing. She was in the mood to push. Every so often my mother got it in her head that I wasn’t happy with my life, that I needed more. Those conversations never tended to go well. “I figured you’d want a night out since Sophia’s not home. You know, with friends… or maybe a nice young lady.”

  I dropped my head back on a groan. “Christ, Mom. Not this again.”

  “What? Can’t a mother inquire about her son’s life?”

  I set my beer down and placed my hands on the island that separated us. “You’re not inquiring, you’re trying to have another one of your goddamn interventions. I’m telling you now, just stop.”

  “Watch your language,” she scolded.

  “I’ll watch my language if you tell me you understand,” I threw back.

  Dropping the knife with an exasperated huff, she threw her hands up in the air. “I just want what’s best for you, Quinn. I want you to be happy.”

  That familiar prickling sensation on my skin I got every time I got angry began to nag at me. “You keep saying that! What makes you think I’m not happy, huh? I’m perfectly
fine with my life, Mom.”

  “Perfectly fine is not happy,” she argued back. “I know you loved her, sweetheart. We all did. Addy was a wonderful person. But it’s been three years. You need to start living again.”

  “I am living,” I ground out, my jaw ticking with the effort to not lose my cool.

  “There’s this lovely new Sunday School teacher at the church. Why don’t you just—”

  “Jesus Christ, Mom!” I shouted, running my hands through my hair in frustration. “Stop! Just stop. I’m not dating some Sunday School teacher.”

  “Well what about the—”

  “Enough!” Her mouth snapped closed at the same time her eyes began to shine with pain, making me feel like a complete asshole. I hated fighting with my mom, but I couldn’t handle another conversation like this. Turning on my booted heels, I started for the back door.

  “Where are you going?” she called out after me. “I thought you were staying for dinner.”

  “Lost my appetite,” I grunted, shoving the screen door open. “Tell Dad I’ll see him later. Good night.” I slammed the door shut on the sound of her protest, letting my feet carry me back to my truck. Once inside, I dropped my forehead against the steering wheel and worked to control my breathing. I felt like shit for how I acted. I hated that whenever the conversation involved Addy, even indirectly, I instantly closed off to anyone and everyone. But I couldn’t help it. Addy was still there every time I closed my eyes.

  It wasn’t just the death of my wife that kept me from moving on, it was the weight of the guilt I carried with me every fucking day. If I hadn’t taken my eyes off the road, if I hadn’t gotten distracted, she’d still be here. Living with the knowledge that my wife was gone because of me was something I struggled with every single goddamned day. No woman deserved to tie herself to a man with that kind of baggage. Why couldn’t my mother see that?

 

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