by T. K. Leigh
“You are smart, caring, empathetic girls. I have no idea what I did to raise such amazing people. What I’m about to ask of you may be difficult, but I beg you to reach deep down and find the compassion I know you both possess. I want you to meet her. I want her to get to know how incredible you two are. And I want you to get to know your little brother.”
They shoot their wide eyes to each other, inhaling a breath at the same time. Then Alyssa slowly looks back at me. “We have a little brother?”
I nod. “I’m sure she’ll tell you all about him, if you give her this chance. So, can you do this for me? Can you keep your hearts open?”
Charlotte gazes at Alyssa, looking to her for guidance.
“Okay,” Alyssa says, nodding. “We’ll meet her.”
I smile and pull them into my arms, squeezing them. “Thank you.” I kiss the top of their heads. “I love you both so much. And your mother does, too. Just give her a chance.”
“Okay,” they respond again. I keep them in my embrace for several more moments. This will be an adjustment for everybody. There will most likely be some slips and falls along the way, but I know we’ll all be better in the end.
Gradually releasing my hold on them, I stand. Brooklyn kisses my cheek, encouraging me, and I turn toward the front door, a nervous flutter in my stomach at how this will all play out. All I can do is support my girls through this big change.
The instant I open the door, Carla whips her head toward me, the trail worn into the sandy path evidence of her pacing. She looks at me with a questioning expression.
“Come on in.”
All it takes is three words and the tension she’s carried since we first ran into each other all those months ago melts off her. She takes a deep breath, then starts toward me, her eyes darting around.
I grab her hand in mine, the feel of her fingers intertwining with mine odd. There’s no spark, no fireworks, no electricity. But there never was with us.
“It’ll be okay.”
She pushes out an anxiety-ridden laugh as I lead her through the entryway. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous.” She lowers her voice, leaning into me. “I didn’t expect to see them today. I would have brought them a gift or something.”
“Trust me.” My light tone cuts through the strain. “They have more than enough toys.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute. You spoiled me when we were together. I can only imagine how you dote on those little girls.”
We turn the corner into the kitchen, our conversation ceasing as we come face to face with Alyssa and Charlotte, who wear the same curious expression. You could hear a pin drop as we all remain still. The girls survey Carla, seeming to analyze everything about her. Carla trembles beside me, swiping away her tears with her free hand.
“Why are you sad?” Charlotte asks quietly.
“Oh, baby. I’m not sad,” she responds, as if it were just yesterday when she sang “Rock-A-Bye Baby” to her, making up new lyrics for every verse. She releases her hold on me, stepping toward them. “Quite the opposite. I’m so happy to be here, to see you and Alyssa.” She looks at Alyssa. “I am so sorry for what I did, for leaving you. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I just… I hope you’ll let me get to know you. I’ll take whatever you can give me. No pressure. Okay?”
“We have a brother?” Alyssa presses.
“Yes.” Carla smiles, her eyes lighting up. “You two are going to be such amazing big sisters.”
“What’s his name?”
“Thomas.” There’s a glow about her as she answers, the way she says his name proof of how much she adores her son.
“How old is he?” Charlotte inquires.
“Two-and-a-half.”
She ponders that response for a moment. Then, seemingly satisfied, approaches Carla, holding her hand toward her. “Do want to see my American Girl doll Daddy just got me?”
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 Thirty-Two
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 looking 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.”