Waterfront Café
Page 12
“Honey, it was only once, and I closed the window. Not a big deal,” Patrick said gently. “Don’t worry about it.”
I tried to smile, but by then Brody apparently had had enough.
“We’ll be at my place,” he said and started pulling me toward the door.
“You broke up with me,” I said and scrambled to keep up with him.
Then I was suddenly upside down, and I was this because he’d put me over his shoulder.
“Does it feel like I broke up with you?” he asked calmly.
“Brody!” I squealed, which earned me a slap on my behind.
“Shut up,” he said rudely. “And as punishment for having stupid ideas, I’m gonna be on my back, and you'll do all the work.” He opened the door to his home and added, “You'll even have to make yourself come.”
Oh. Being shouted at and thrown over someone's shoulder was terrible, right? That kind of chauvinistic caveman behavior was supposed to be off-putting and unsexy. Except it wasn't. Heat had pooled between my legs, and I squirmed a little at the thought of what we would do. What I would do.
“Oh, alright,” I said haughtily, but it was all for show, and mostly an attempt to hold on to some measure of dignity.
I knew I'd failed when I heard him laugh, and found that it was impossible to stop my own giggle.
Brody
He watched Marie fidget and pulled her into his arms.
“Babe,” he murmured. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” she murmured into his chest. “Maybe. Joey always liked outdoorsy stuff, so he’ll like it here. Marlena... she’s not going to like it.”
“Why do you care what she thinks?”
“I don’t. I care about what Joey will think about what she thinks.”
A car drove up to the house, and they moved outside. Here we go, Brody thought with a sigh. Quick meet and greet and then shuffle them off to the Motel. They'd leave by lunchtime on Sunday. What could go wrong in two short days?
Then he saw who was in the car and braced for whatever his daughter would hit him with next.
“Dad?” Thea stepped out and took a step toward him.
Then her lips wobbled, and she looked like the young girl he'd had with him as she grew up, on occasional weekends and every summer break.
“Sweetie,” he said and caught her when she hit him in full force.
She sobbed rambling apologies into his tee, and he slid a hand soothingly over her back. The baby started wailing in the car, but Thea didn't move and just kept crying.
“I’ll get her,” Marie murmured.
That got through to Thea who straightened and, asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Marie.”
“Marie.”
“A friend of your father’s,” Marie clarified, and said calmly, “The baby is crying. Can I pick her up?”
“I'll do it,” Thea said, apparently not ready to let some unknown female friend of her father's touch her child.
The baby was tiny.
He'd forgotten how tiny they were, and how it felt, that shot of wonder when he slid a finger gently over a soft, round cheek.
Before anyone had a chance to say anything else, another car came up the road, parked, and a young man got out.
“Mom?”
Marie’s son had arrived. The young man had his mother’s hair and was just slightly taller than her. He was lean and wiry, and walked with the same straight back, holding his head just like she did, looking curiously at the crowd in front of him. Joey had only taken a few steps toward them when a loud honk from the car stopped him. He winced, rushed back and opened the passenger door to let a tall, slim girl step out.
“Jesus,” Brody muttered.
Had that girl seriously honked the horn to make her boyfriend open a door that didn't exactly require an engineering degree to operate?
“I told you about Marlena,” Marie whispered, and reached for his hand.
Then the young couple reached them, and the baby promptly started wailing.
***
Shelly dubbed Joey’s girlfriend, “Nightmarelena,” less than four hours after they arrived in Bakersville. Brody had to give it to the girl, though; It couldn’t be easy to be so very high-brow and uptight in a bar in a small town like Bakersville where people like Jools stared at her and asked what kind of stick she had shoved up her behind. Dottie looked like she wanted to know the same thing, but smiled politely and engaged Joey in a conversation about hiking. It had been the right thing to do because the boy was suddenly more animated than he'd been all night.
Shelly took pity on the girl and asked her about college. Marlena started talking, and an hour later, Shelly’s eyes were glazed over, so Brody decided to save her.
“Shell,” Brody called out. “You want something to drink?”
“Yes!” Shelly squealed, said something to Marlena which looked like an excuse, and walked briskly up to the bar. “Hit me with the strongest you’ve got,” she ordered Patrick who grinned and reached for a glass.
“Hey, Mom,” Joey cut in. “We’re heading over to the Motel. It’s been a long day.”
Marie didn’t protest much, and when they’d left, she turned to Shelly with a sigh.
“I’m so sorry, Marlena can be a bit... you know. She means well.”
Brody was quite sure she didn't but decided to not voice his opinion, and he was anyway busy staring at his cousin who leaned heavily on the bar.
“Your son is a nice young man,” Shelly whispered and turned her head to look at Marie. “Dottie likes him. He didn’t hit Jools. He laughs when someone makes a joke. What in the hell does he see in her?”
“Maybe she’s a wildcat between the sheets?” Patrick murmured, and Brody barked out laughter.
“She’s a nightmare,” Shelly said hoarsely, wisely ignoring her cousin’s question. “A nightmarelena.”
Marie choked, and it was absolutely on laughter which she tried to stifle.
“It will get better once she gets used to us all,” she said determinedly.
Brody wasn't sure it would, but the girl had apparently behaved well enough when Marie took the couple out for pizza. Brody and his daughter had shared their pizza in the Mermaid house with the excuse that the baby needed to sleep, and they anyway had to change the sheets because Thea would be sleeping there.
“We’re leaving,” Brody announced. “Thea said she'd bring Dot in for a late lunch tomorrow so if you want to see my grandbaby then be there at one.”
They left accompanied by a chorus of voices calling out promises to be at the Café to meet Thea and the baby, and walked the short distance home through the chilly evening.
“Marlena is so boring, Brody, but if she’s what Joey wants then I will smile and listen when she talks about Lope de Vega,” Marie said and tilted her head back to look at him.
“Loopy the what?”
That got him the grin he wanted, and she relaxed into his side.
“God,” she sighed. “That’s all she talks about. Old books. She’s moved on from English writers to Spanish ones, hence Senor de Vega and his poems.”
“Yikes.”
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled and slowed down as they passed the Mermaid house where a few lights were still on even though it was past eleven. “What's going on with Thea?”
“Had a fight with her partner. He had to lead a field trip with the university, something about fungi that were blooming, or growing on bloomers, or whatever the fuck. She came here.”
“Serious fight?”
“He wants to get married.”
She blinked and stared at him with a look on her face which probably was an exact copy of the one he’d had when he heard.
“She says it’s just an archaic tradition, and some other things which sounded mostly like bullshit. They’ll figure it out, baby,” Brody said, hoping they would. “I told her to marry him, and if it didn’t work then being divor
ced wasn’t the end of the world.”
Marie stared at him, and her mouth fell open.
“You’re joking?”
“What?”
“You're not joking? Brody for heaven's sake...”
She raised her hands in an impatient gesture. “I'll go and see how she feels after that lovely statement from her father.”
What the hell? It wasn't the end of the world to be divorced, something Marie would know since she was. Or had been. Or whatever.
“I tried to be supportive,” he explained, which got him another impatient gesture, and then she was walking toward the small pink house.
“Go on home. I'll be there in a while,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“For fuck's sake,” he muttered but got no reply because she'd knocked on the door and disappeared inside.
Brody walked into his own house and tried to decide what to do. When more than an hour had passed, he walked over and knocked softly on the door. No one opened, so he slid the door open himself and walked toward the soft murmur of voices.
“It's not a problem at all, Thea, I promise,” Marie said quietly. “You need sleep, and you’ve just nursed Dot, so she'll be fine a couple of hours. We'll give her a bottle when she wakes up.”
“I brought some formula, and bottles and... But I wasn’t sure. They say it’s better to breastfeed her.”
“Of course, it is,” Marie said calmly. “But an exhausted mom with sore nipples and empty breasts is worse for her, honey. I gave both of my kids a little extra every now and then, and they survived just fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Totally,” Marie said and added with a soft giggle, “And your father is good in the kitchen, so he’ll know how to sterilize the bottles.”
“Hey,” Brody said quietly. “Good that I’ve learned how to boil water, huh?” Thea laughed, which was what he’d aimed for, but her bottom lip quivered, and he saw how she swallowed. “Sweetie,” he murmured and slid the back of his hand over her cheek. “It’ll be okay.”
He wasn’t going to talk to her about breastfeeding, but if Marie told him what to do, he’d sterilize goddamned bottles and whatever else he could help with.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her,” Marie said calmly. “We’re right next door.”
“Okay,” Thea murmured.
Then Marie calmly picked Dot up, wrapped the blanket closer around the baby, and turned toward him.
“Get the stroller and the bag.”
Brody blinked. They were going for a walk in the middle of the night?
Thea suddenly giggled and nudged him.
“Bet you didn’t expect this when you woke up this morning, Dad?” she asked.
Marie had already walked away with a murmured goodnight, and Brody realized that they were apparently taking care of the baby that night, something he hoped Marie knew how to do because he had only vague memories from when Jag had been an infant and ex-wife number two had barely let him touch Thea the first six months.
“We’ll be fine,” he murmured and wished he’d sounded more convincing.
“I know,” Thea said, yawned, and pushed the godawfully frilly and peachy-pink stroller his way. “Thanks, Dad.”
He didn’t even try to hold back the look of disgust on his face as he pushed it across to his house and hoped Pat hadn’t decided to leave the bar early.
Then he used one of his pots – purchased in fucking France – to sterilize bottles and something Marie called a teat. He shuddered and decided that Mr. Mauviel would probably roll around in his grave if he knew what the pots his offspring sold were used for. Or since he had offspring, he might even have sterilized a few teats himself back in the day, although Brody doubted it.
“Hey,” he murmured as he walked into the bedroom, and wiggled the bottle. “Score.”
“Thanks, grandpa,” she murmured.
“I’ll bop you in the head with this if you call me that again,” Brody murmured.
“You are one.”
He knew that, but he didn’t feel like one.
“Your ex is pretty horrible,” Marie added.
“I know.”
“Thea was alone with the baby. She doesn't have enough milk, so the baby chews on her nipples and doesn't sleep.”
Marie looked at him, but all he could do was wince. Thinking about his daughter and nipples at the same time was not really something he wanted to do.
“Yikes,” he said when she seemed to expect a comment.
“Your ex told Thea that it was to be expected, that all babies are difficult and that she should suck it up. The girl hasn't slept more than two hours straight since she gave birth, so how she managed to drive here, I do not know.”
“And then you offered to babysit.”
“Yes.”
“You know what that makes you?”
Marie raised her brows and murmured, “A fairy godmother?”
“Nope,” Brody said and got in bed behind her. Then he tucked her into his chest, and kissed her shoulder and her ear. “A grandma.”
Chapter Eleven
Call nine-one-one
Marie
Both Brody and the baby were gone when I woke up, and at first, I wondered if he'd put her in the stroller and gone for a walk. Then I burst out laughing because Brody was a grandfather, however uncomfortable that fact made him, but there was no way the man who took me from behind over the kitchen counter and roared fuck at his son so loudly the windows rattled would amble along the waterfront pushing that stroller with its pink ruffles.
This was a correct guess it turned out, and I chuckled when I read the note Brody had left on the kitchen counter.
“Pink monstrosity loaded and delivered to T. Joey called your phone, and I told him to go there for breakfast. See you at the Café later. B”
While Thea and I waited for Joey and Marlena to join us for breakfast, we laughed at her father who had told her he'd get another stroller, so she wouldn't have to drag, “The fucking thing,” back and forth when she came for a visit. She had promised to visit more often, and bring her partner Jonas, but told him that it wasn't hard to fold the thing up and that it fit nicely into the back of her car.
“I told him it was adjustable so we could raise the handle if he wanted to take Dot for a walk,” Thea said with a giggle. “The look of disgust on his face, Marie. Hilarious.”
Thea looked like a completely different woman and shared that she’d taken the first proper shower in weeks that morning.
“I remember what that was like,” I murmured. “Joey was an easy baby, but Amelia had stomach issues. It felt like I didn’t sleep for months.”
“You lived far away from your parents?”
“They were gone by then,” I said. “And my sister isn't the kind of sister you ask to babysit. Besides, she had small children of her own. My husband did his share, though, and he would have done more, but he needed to get up in the morning for work. And it passed, you know. It felt like I blinked twice, and now they are grownups.”
“I had a fight with Jonas,” she said abruptly.
“I heard.”
“Dad said –”
“Honey,” I cut in. “Brody is a fantastic man, but hardly someone equipped to hand out marital advice. Neither am I, for that matter.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Just do what feels right, Thea. Life is about layers, isn't it? Friendship, sorrow, struggles, and laughter... Marriage is just another layer, and it isn't required so if you don't want it then don't do it. But, sweetie, there's also a beauty in that bond. In making a promise to someone in a way that matters.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” she murmured.
“Then it doesn’t, but what if it does?”
“I never thought dad would end up with someone like you.”
I blinked and wondered if I should share that I never thought I’d get involved with someone l
ike Brody either. A knock on the door cut through the silence, and then Dot started whimpering.
“I’ll get the door,” I said. “Breakfast will be good. I’m hungry.”
I took Joey on a walk along the water when we'd eaten, and we brought an ecstatically happy Boone with us. Marlena went back to the Motel to work a few hours on an assignment for school which apparently was due the next day. I wondered why she had decided to come to Maine at all but was happy for the hours alone with my son. He threw sticks to Boone, and we talked like we used to do.
“Marlena is stressed out about school,” he murmured suddenly. “Her professor is a genius, and really demanding, and Marlena is her top student. Everyone admires her.”
He sounded proud, but if the one everyone admired was his girlfriend or the brainy professor, I did not know.
“How do you like school?” I asked instead.
“It’s okay. I like it. Accounting is fun.”
I didn’t think that fun and accounting would ever be found next to each other in a thesaurus, but it might suit my son well. He hadn’t inherited any of my artistic abilities, but he’d gotten my penchants for lists and keeping things in order, so it probably would.
“Okay,” I murmured. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Mom. I’m...” He looked away and tossed a stick for Boone. “I shouldn’t have asked you to pay for Marlena’s ring. That was pretty dumb.”
“I’m glad you figured that out.”
“I haven’t asked her. We agreed that I’d wait until after graduation.”
They had agreed on when he would propose to her? That wasn’t very romantic, I thought. I also decided to keep that thought to myself and gave myself a mental pat on the shoulder in appreciation of my restrained adultness.
“That's good,” I said lamely instead and decided to change the topic. “Have you talked to Amelia?”
“No. Marlena called her a while ago, but I haven’t heard from Melie since then. I should give her a call when I get back.”
Melie. I hadn't heard that nickname since they both lived at home with Pete and me and it was so sweet.