“Hey, Hannah. This does not look like fun,” I say, being honest.
“It’s awful,” she agrees.
“Maybe I can help while your dad is at the meeting?”
Hannah shrugs, proving her typical response hasn't disappeared completely.
Brody seems panicked, and, in a rush when he walks into the kitchen, dressed in slacks and a light blue button-down. “You dress for the occasion?” I ask with a small laugh.
He glances down at his attire. “No, I had a vendor meeting at two-thirty, and it ran late.”
“He was late picking me up today,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes.
“You had drama club,” Brody argues, holding his hands up with a look of question.
“If I didn’t have drama club, you would have been late.”
“Yeah, but I knew you had drama club.”
“He’s usually the only parent sitting in the auditorium rooting me on like he’s watching a football game,” Hannah says, shaking her head as she continues to write.
Hannah doesn’t realize how much more she’s making me fall for the real Brody.
“Anyway,” Brody says, leaning down and kissing Hannah on the head. “I love you. Please behave for Journey.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hannah groans.
Brody squeezes my shoulder as he walks past me and winks. I know he wants to be careful about any affection in front of Hannah, which I understand with no explanation. I’m sure it would take very little to push her over the edge with her pre-hormonal raging feelings. “Thank you so much. I’ll order pizza when I leave the school, so it’ll arrive shortly after I get home.”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” I tell him.
“Hannah—” he says.
“No, Dad.”
“Hannah, baby girl—”
“Dad, stop,” she grunts.
Brody points at her and cocks his head to the side, smiling widely. “You complete me,” he says, pointing at himself following the statement.
Hannah covers her face. “Oh, my God. Why me?”
I’m trying my hardest not to laugh. “You can’t even complete a sentence,” she mumbles.
Brody shrugs it off and gives me another inconspicuous wink before walking out the door.
It isn’t until the truck is out of the driveway before I take a seat at the table with Hannah. “Does he embarrass you a lot?”
Hannah drops her pencil. “Like every single day of my life.”
I purse my lips, trying not to smile. “Do you know it’s a dad’s job to embarrass his daughter?”
“Well, it’s a stupid job,” she says. Another roll of her eyes seals the seriousness of her statement.
“When I was your age, my dad did the same thing to me. I was kind of quiet and didn’t like much attention, but my dad was the complete opposite—always the life of every party, loud, and funny. He wanted to pull me out of my shell and make me more like him, but it took a while before he realized I’m just like him in other ways and not so much the loud, funny person.” It was Melody who shared in Dad’s passion for making people smile.
“How long did it take him to realize you didn’t like his jokes?” Hannah asks.
“Believe it or not, I grew to love his jokes. I didn’t take part in them, but he made me smile, and I think I’d do anything to hear another one of his jokes right now.”
Hannah glances up at me with wide eyes as if I triggered a profound thought. I don’t want to say anything too heavy for a ten-year-old, but I wish I could tell her life is short and someday the things that annoy us the most will be what we’d do anything to experience again.
“He really tries hard,” Hannah says. “Sometimes too hard. Like he’s trying to make up for my mom not being around.” She’s thinking through all of her words as she says them. I can see the thought process revolving. “I guess it’s better than if he was like my mom, though.”
“Sometimes in life, it’s the child who has all the learning to do, but other times, adults are the ones who have the most learning to do and it doesn’t always happen so quickly when you’re older and set in your ways.” I’m being vague so I don’t make any assumptions about her mother, but there can be hope that she’ll realize the mistakes she’s making with Hannah. If not, Brody will continue to play double duty to fill both roles. She doesn’t realize she’s lucky to have someone like him.
“It’s true,” she agrees. “My mom thinks nothing through at all, and her boyfriend is dumber than a brick wall.” Wow. For a ten-year-old to come to a conclusion like that, this guy must be quite a winner.
“It happens,” I tell her.
“Hey, thank you for cleaning my room. It was nice to come home to. My mom doesn’t clean at her house either. My dad tries, but we get busy and things get out of control, I guess, so it was nice to fall asleep without my stuff everywhere. I like it that way.”
I sweep the back of my hand against my forehead. “Phew! I was worried you might hate me for touching your things.”
“No, I don’t hate you,” she says with a partial smile perked into the corner of her lips. “Are you and my dad dating?”
Out of left field. I should have been expecting the question but was absolutely not expecting it while we were alone. “Um, well—we enjoy spending time together. We’ve become good friends.”
“That’s all?” she continues. I can’t remember what a ten-year-old understands about relationships and I don’t want to say too much without talking to Brody.
“I guess we’ll see, right?”
“You’ve been around longer than anyone else in my dad’s life, so I just figured you were his girlfriend now.”
Is that where we are? In a relationship without a label? People still label relationships in their thirties?
“Well, some of the best friendships turn into more, but it takes time to grow,” I tell her.
“It makes sense,” she says, picking her pencil back up. “I’m learning about the water-cycle and it’s really boring.”
I don’t know if I dodged a bullet, but it feels like it for the time being.
The hour goes by rather quickly as I re-learn the facts about the water-cycle so I can help her fill out the questions on her homework sheet but just as I hear Brody’s truck pull into the driveway, Hannah closes her science book and looks up at me. “My dad is falling in love with you, but don’t tell him I said so, okay?”
“What?” I giggle. “How do you know something like that?”
“He has a lot of fake smiles and laughs. He got good at them over the last couple years, but lately, he’s been happy for real and I heard him talking to Uncle Brett. He said something like you could be the one.” Hannah shrugs. “So, I figure he must be falling in love with you, right?”
I feel winded as Brody walks into the house and I probably look like I just saw a ghost. “Everything okay?” he asks with wide eyes.
“Oh yeah, we’re great. Hannah just finished her homework. I thought you were ordering pizza?” I ask because he’s holding two boxes.
“The wait was an hour, so I picked them up on the way home.” Brody seems concerned with whatever look must be on my face.
“Hannah, go and wash up for dinner, in your bathroom, please.”
Hannah doesn’t argue. She stands from her seat and heads down the hallway toward the bathroom. “How was the meeting?” I ask, trying to distract him from whatever he’s concerned about.
“Fine. What’s going on? You don’t look right?”
“Nothing is going on. We just finished her homework. Everything was great.”
“You’re lying,” he says.
I drop my gaze down to the table because I am lying. “It’s nothing,” I say, poking my fingernail at a spot of dried food on the placemat I’m leaning on.
“It’s something.”
“Hannah thinks you're falling in love with me,” I say without looking up at him.
“She said that?” Brody asks.
“Yeah. She didn�
��t seem upset about it or anything, but her comment took me by surprise.”
“I think it takes more than a few weeks to fall in love with someone, but I can see it happening, Journey. We click. It just feels right to me.”
His explanation eases my mind but makes me wonder why there’s apprehension tightening my chest. Love means so many different things to me, but I don’t think I’ve ever been truly in love with someone, even Adam, which leaves me with guilt sometimes. I love him as a person and as the person in my life—what he means to me, but it’s different from the other kind of love. “Things do feel right with us,” I agree. “I’m not worried.”
“Hannah doesn’t know what falling in love means,” Brody says.
“I’m not sure I do either, but I imagine it must start off like this,” I say, glancing back up at him.
23
I learned about the process of a divorce at twenty-one years old—an age too young to be married (in my opinion), never mind figuring out a divorce. There was no back and forth or need for mediation. I didn’t have to even see Tucker again, which was for the best. I’m not sure I could face him after what I caused.
Caused.
I kept causing people turmoil. It was never intentional, but why was it so easy to do? My decisions weren’t the greatest, but people are making far worse decisions than me and getting away with much more.
Tucker lived in Maryland when he wasn’t driving trucks, a fact that didn’t concern me until the night in Vegas, and then again when I found out most uncontested divorces take around twelve months if the spouse lives in Maryland. Tucker and I were married for an entire year and never saw each other once.
However, 1.2 million dollars was wired to my bank account during the year. The decision was made on Tucker’s behalf, making sure all equitable assets were split leaving no further hurdles to climb while dissolving our marriage. The money felt dirty. I didn’t deserve it. It didn’t belong to me. It was burning a hole in my pocket, but not for the same reason most might think.
The day I received the bank wire, I tried to put the thought of money out of my head as I went to the nursing facility to visit Adam.
I walked in through the same lobby area, finding out someone had vandalized the walls the night before. It wasn’t typical to see much crime in our area, so the sight of destruction hit me hard. Within just a few steps I overheard a conversation between staff members, discussing the happenings from the situation. There was a small riot of some sort—but why in a nursing facility? Were the patients in danger? Was it a robbery? Was Adam okay? The thoughts were endless as I struggled to make my way up the stairwell. The “what ifs” were pulling me down like an anchor. It was becoming far too easy to think: if something happened to Adam, it would always be my fault. Everything was ultimately my fault.
When I arrived at Adam’s room, breathless and panicked, I walked in on both his parents and Tracey. “Is he okay? What happened here last night?” I asked, stumbling on every one of my words.
The three of them turned to face me. “He’s okay, but there were gunshots fired on the first floor. We aren’t sure of the specific details, but they had trouble securing the building with the few staff members on duty. I wouldn’t think something so awful would happen in a nursing home,” Carol, his mom said.
“What matters is, Adam is all right and was not harmed,” Brian followed.
“Dad, they should shut down this place down until those doors are secure so they can keep criminals out. I can’t even understand why anyone would come here of all places to attempt a robbery,” Tracey added in.
“We don’t know if it was a robbery, Trace,” Carol argued.
“What else could it be?” Tracey’s cheeks were red, and her hair was a mess. She was pacing and unstable as her eyes darted to every corner of the room.
“I have a solution,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
I did my best to mind my business when it came to their family matters. I was not a part of their family and had no right offering my opinions, though I had plenty over the years that Adam had been in a nursing facility. However, it was different at that moment.
The three of them stood, staring at me with wonder as if the magical solution would appear within the thin air between us. Truthfully, it could have. “I received 1.2 million dollars today from—”
“He sent you the money?” Carol asked, covering her mouth. They were sure Tucker would not offer half of his jackpot winnings to a woman who unquestioningly married him and ran off the next day. I agreed with their theory of the money never appearing, and I had rejected the offer several times on top of it all. It was not my money to claim half of.
“My attorney said the money would belong to me, regardless, and if he sent it on his own with a written request, the divorce could be finalized quicker than initially expected.”
“I’m awestruck, Journey. I can’t believe you just acquired so much. It looks like luck is on your side, huh?”
Those words chomped at my heart and the ghostly feeling of a knife slitting my throat made me clench my hands around my neck. “No, I’m not lucky, Brian. None of us are, but the money is going to you—for Adam’s care. I ran away because I couldn’t handle the pain. But, the pain chased me like a magnet to metal. There was no way to hide from what was hurting me the most. I made stupid decisions, but they all led me here with money to support Adam.”
“No, go to college as you were supposed to. You should invest,” Brian said as Carol and Tracey carefully eyed him from the side.
“I can’t. I can’t use this money. There is absolutely nothing else I can do for Adam, but hopefully this will help him receive better care. I know it won’t last forever but, I’m sure there are ways to make it stretch. There’s a brand-new facility a couple towns over. They have space. I already called. It’s beautiful and state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line nursing care and physical therapy. Maybe he would have a chance to excel more there.” I had a hard time swallowing after clearing my head of all the loose thoughts.
“Journey,” Carol cried out. “I know you blame yourself and take so much of the fault for what happened to Adam, but as I have told you before, life has a plan for each of us, and whether Adam was injured that night in the way he was or if it happened in a completely different way or day, this was his intended life.” Adam’s family had been avidly attending church services, seeking answers and forms of understanding—ways of life I was uncomfortable accepting. I was glad they had found a bit of peace in their misery, but Adam was still suffering. “You don’t owe him or us this gift. I need you to know this.”
I pressed my lips into a firm line. “I know.” It wasn’t how I truly felt, but it was the only way they would accept the money. “I want this for Adam.”
The three of them wrapped their arms around me and squeezed the air out of my lungs. We all cried until we couldn’t catch our breath, but then a plan was made. The money I didn’t deserve was being used for a purpose.
With everything I have lived through, having dinner with Brody and Mom should not be causing me a mild panic attack but my pulse is racing, and I feel like the heat is being turned up about twenty-degrees in Brody’s truck. “Are you okay over there?” Brody chuckles.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Where are we having dinner?”
“Uh, this new place in Lakebrige, Chez Tru or something?”
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat. “Chez Tru?” I repeat.
“Yeah, have you been there yet?” he continues.
“Remember the food photoshoot I had a few weeks ago and the sleazy owner, Marco?”
“Yeah, I remember that night. I was mad as hell at you for walking around in the dark alone.”
“Well, the photoshoot was at Chez Tru,” I tell him.
Brody snickers. “Good.”
“No, not good. I don’t want to see that jackass.”
“Fireball, you have nothing to worry about. You’re with me and your mom will be there t
oo. He will say nothing to you. Unless he’s an idiot, and, in which case, I’ll take care of the situation, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll be fine.”
If I was the type to whine. I would whine about this situation. Maybe it’ll be too busy, and Marco won’t see me. Maybe he’s not working tonight. He’s the owner. Owners don’t have to be on site all the time. There’s still a chance of luck.
At least the thought of running into Marco distracted me from thoughts of facing Mom for a few minutes, but everything is quickly coming to fruition when we find a spot on the side of the street, just a storefront away from Chez Tru, right behind Mom’s SUV.
“Are sure nothing happened today? You seem very stressed.”
“I felt sick earlier. I’m okay now.” I reach for the door handle to step out of the truck, but Brody grabs my left hand. “Hold on.”
My gaze floats to his hand holding mine then sweeps up to his eyes filled with a look of concern. “Did the doctor’s office call you with appointments?”
“Yeah, both are next week.”
“Good. Will you be able to eat tonight?”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling unsure.
“You’re really this stressed out about your mom? I wouldn’t have purposely caused you—”
“No, it’s not what you’re thinking. I talk to my mom all the time. I’m just having trouble finding the nerve to fess up about her assumptions regarding my health.” It will upset her and it’s the last thing she needs.
“Everything will be okay, I promise,” he says, his eyes growing wider with an aura of guarantee.
Brody releases my hand and I step out of the truck, walking toward the front door of the restaurant which is much emptier than I hoped. Mom is sitting in the waiting area, scrolling through her phone. I reach for the door, but Brody gets to the hand before I do, welcoming me into this brand-new chic restaurant with Marco standing tall at the host podium. “Well, well, fancy meeting you here,” Mom says, standing up to give me a kiss on the cheek. “If I didn’t run into Brody yesterday, who knows much longer you would have gone without seeing me?” She’s being dramatic, but it’s the game she plays, teetering on the edge of joking but letting me know she’s feeling something beyond humor and it isn’t laughable.
Bourbon on the Rocks: The Barrel House Series - Book 2 Page 21