“No…,” she drags out, placing her hands on her hips. “Is there a reason she’d be stopping by on a day she normally doesn’t?”
I lean closer, lowering my voice. “She said she wanted to go to the museum with us.”
“Why are you whispering?” she asks quietly, her tone mimicking mine.
“Because I don’t want to tell the girls in case she doesn’t show.” I gesture toward where they each sit on a stool in front of the bar. The area isn’t lit since it’s still too early to serve alcohol, but that doesn’t bother them. They eat their muffins, staring at the framed photos of famous sports stars lining the wall above the liquor shelves, able to name every single one of them.
“And why wouldn’t she show?” Gigi presses.
“Because she was supposed to get her engagement photos done today, then meet with the caterer and florist.”
“Supposed to?” She lifts a brow, her posture perking up. A slow smile crawls across her lips as she tilts her head, inching even closer.
“Yeah.” I could embellish further, but I’m not sure what to say. All I know is one minute, Brooklyn was happy to continue with the wedding planning; the next, she started shunning her responsibilities.
“Interesting.” She pinches her chin, tapping her forefinger against her lips. I can sense the wheels turning in her head.
“What is it? Do you know something?”
She seems to contemplate for a moment before she returns her eyes to mine, clasping her hands together. “You’ve still got a shot, my boy.” Then she retreats, heading toward the dining area to clear some tables.
“A shot?” I repeat, following close on her heels. “What do you mean?”
She grabs a few plates off a recently vacated table, bringing them toward the bus bins. I help her, hoping the less distracted she is, the more likely she’ll explain what she’s talking about.
“Exactly what I said. It’s not over yet. You didn’t screw things up.” She heads back toward the coffee station and grabs a dish towel, wiping the counters free from coffee and sugar residue.
“Screw things up? It wasn’t my fault in the first place.”
Gigi stops what she’s doing and clutches my cheeks in her hands, pulling me toward her so I no longer tower over her like I usually do. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Her bright smile falls, her expression turning severe. “So don’t ruin it.”
“You’re not making any sense,” I say in exasperation when she releases her hold on me, walking away. “How can I ruin something that’s not there?”
She bends over to wipe a table, then shoots me a sly look. “Oh, it’s there. You just have to work a little harder for it this time around.”
I throw my hands up, this conversation seeming to go nowhere. “I give up.”
“No, no, no!” She hurries toward me, grabbing my hands. “Don’t give up. Just keep doing whatever you have been because it’s working!” There’s an excitement in her eyes as she bounces on her feet. “You’re getting to her. You’re getting through to her!”
“To who?” I ask, confused.
“To Brooklyn.” She releases an exasperated breath. “She’s blowing off her engagement photos today. It may be due to something Wes or his mother did, but if that’s the case, she could just as easily stay home. She’s not. She wants to spend the day with you. That must count for something.”
“I told you, Gigi,” I say in a serious voice. “Brooklyn’s a friend. Nothing more.”
“So you’ve been saying, but you can’t hide the truth from me, even if you try to hide it from yourself. You love her. You always have. You always will. She’s the reason you married Carla, how you hoped she’d help you forget how you feel about Brooklyn. You never have. And you never will. Your love for her is too deep, too strong, too powerful. It’s time you finally—”
“Drew?”
I whirl around to see Brooklyn standing just a few feet away, her expression unreadable. When I glance back at my aunt, she smirks, obviously satisfied with herself. How many more times is she going to goad me into a conversation about Brooklyn knowing she’s probably listening?
“Brooklyn.” My eyes dart around as I run my hands through my hair. “You made it. I was beginning to wonder—”
“There was traffic. An accident on the bridge had everything backed up.”
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest, worried Brooklyn will turn around and leave at the knowledge that my crazy aunt’s trying to play matchmaker. Things have returned to some semblance of normalcy. I don’t want to lose that again.
“Coffee, dear?” Gigi asks, giving her a sly look. “Perhaps you and Drew would like a moment to yourselves, head to the roof like—”
“No, thank you,” she interrupts with a smile. “I’m sure the girls want to get to the museum.”
As if on cue, Alyssa and Charlotte come barreling through the café, flinging their arms around Brooklyn. “Auntie Brook! Are you coming with us today?” Alyssa asks.
She crouches to their level. “Is that okay?”
“Yes!” they both squeal simultaneously.
“Can we do the mirror maze first?” Charlotte presses.
Brooklyn raises herself back to a standing position, her eyes floating to mine. “You’ll have to ask your father.”
“Of course, kiddo.” I tousle Charlotte’s curls. “Ready?”
“Yes!”
The girls bolt toward the door, thanks to the sugar rush my aunt provided them.
“Shall we?” I hold my elbow out for Brooklyn.
With a smile that seems to penetrate deep inside me, she hooks her arm through mine, allowing me to lead her out of the café.
“Have fun, you two!” Gigi calls out as we’re about to leave.
“Thanks, Yenta,” Brooklyn shoots back. “Try to refrain from playing matchmaker with anyone else who stops by the café, will ya?” When she passes me a sly grin, we both break out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. The mere sound makes all my tension and stress melt away. I’m pretty sure Brooklyn’s laugh could bring world peace.
It brings me peace.
Chapter Eighteen
BROOKLYN
“Gosh, it’s been a while since I’ve been here,” I announce, taking in everything as we make our way past the central hub of the museum, a hint of nostalgia filling me. The crowd is thick, voices reverberating against the tile flooring. “I think the last time may have been in college to see the Pink Floyd laser light show.”
“The girls love it here.” Drew offers a smile, then looks at Alyssa and Charlotte as they gaze up in awe at the giant T-Rex skeleton. “She could surprise us, but I get the feeling Alyssa’s going to be involved in some sort of science when she gets older. You’ve seen her at the aquarium. She can’t get enough of everything to do with science, especially marine science.”
“And Charlotte?” I ask, my voice light. I thought it would be awkward to be here with Drew, to spend my day with him, but it’s not. It feels just as natural as yesterday did, although I didn’t want to admit it at first.
“A rocket scientist.” He meets my eyes, everything about him relaxed and familiar. It’s a stark contrast to how I feel with Wes.
“Naturally,” I retort, as if that makes all the sense in the world.
“Of course, if you were to ask her, she’d tell you she’s going to be the first professional female hockey player, but only if she can play for the Bruins.”
I laugh, meeting his whiskey eyes that seem to gleam as they peer down at me. “Smart girl.”
“She’s certainly one of a kind.” He holds my gaze for a moment longer before looking back at his girls. There’s a change in his expression as he watches them listen to one of the museum employees talk about how a Tyrannosaurus Rex could sprint at speeds of up to twenty miles per hour and grow to be forty feet long.
All it takes is one look and I see how much this man adores those two little girls. Every parent loves their kids. Well, almost every
parent. Unfortunately, in my line of work, I see the other side of the coin all too often. But now, as I observe Drew and the way his entire body lights up from just one glance at those two little angels, I wonder if I’ve been too harsh on him.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Charlotte says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn my eyes to see her tugging on Drew’s arm, Alyssa right beside her, as is typically the case. “Can we go see the Butterfly Gardens next?”
“Absolutely.” His eyes float to mine. “Is that okay with you?”
“Of course.” I nod. “It’s their day, not mine.”
“No. It’s yours, too.” His voice is contemplative as he holds my gaze for a moment, then smiles at his girls. “Okay. Hands.” He holds both of his hands out to them. Charlotte eagerly takes one, grinning. Alyssa sneers in disgust, giving us a preview of what we have to look forward to as she nears adolescence.
“I’m eight, Dad,” she reminds him, placing her hands on her hips, mustering all the attitude she can at her age, which is quite a lot. “I’m past the holding hands stage.”
“Then maybe you’re too old for ice cream, too?”
“We have ice cream all the time.”
“Then, of course, you’re too old for our trip to Disney World this summer, aren’t you? I’m sure Auntie Molly will be more than happy to watch you while Charlotte and I go.”
Her expression is priceless, her eyes bulging, her jaw practically hitting the floor.
“Because Disney World will be a lot more crowded than this place, and you’d better believe I’ll be making you hold my hand there, too.”
Her lips curl, and I can sense the wheels turning in her head as she tries to come up with an argument, but she eventually relents.
“Fine.” She stomps over to him and grabs his other hand.
“Love ya, Lyss.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” She sighs, pretending to be irritated at the thought of having to hold his hand. I sigh along with her, a lightness in my chest as I watch how devoted Drew is to these girls. I’ve been lucky enough to witness him grow into his role as a dad. Now, as I watch the three of them walk hand-in-hand, I can barely even see the Drew I knew him to be during his hockey days. I see a different Drew…one who may be deserving of another chance.
“We can’t leave you out,” Charlotte says, reaching for my hand and grasping it in hers so the four of us can walk with our hands linked. My breath catches as I look from Charlotte to Drew. It’s such a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes of the little person she’s becoming. “You’re part of our family, too, Auntie Brook!” Then she shoots her wide eyes to Drew’s as we maneuver through the large crowds. “Daddy, since Auntie Brook’s part of our family, she should come to Disney World with us! Auntie Molly was supposed to, but she can’t anymore because she’s cooking our cousin in her tummy.”
“She’s not cooking—” He stops himself. I can only imagine what happened to cause Charlotte to think Molly’s cooking their cousin. By the flustered look on Drew’s face, I gather it’s one conversation he has no desire to relive anytime soon. “Auntie Brook has her own commitments. She’ll be taking a lot of time off from work for her wedding and honeymoon.”
He looks to me for confirmation. A heaviness settles in my chest. I still don’t know my status with Wes. I haven’t spoken to him since our phone call yesterday. For all intents and purposes, he expected me to show up at ten o’clock this morning to have our engagement photos taken. Instead, I turned my cell phone off without a single word to him about my whereabouts. It’s childish, but he deserves a taste of his own medicine. Moreover, it gives me time to figure out what I want. I’m not sure what that is anymore.
As much as I want to agree to Charlotte’s idea, I simply smile a tight smile, giving nothing away. To be truthful, a week at Disney World with Drew and the girls sounds infinitely more exciting than spending several weeks in Africa, which Wes planned without consulting me.
“What’s a honeymoon?” Charlotte asks.
“It’s a vacation a couple takes after they get married,” I reply.
Charlotte shifts her eyes to me, considering my response. “You should marry Daddy instead. Then you can come to Disney World on your moon trip.”
“It doesn’t work like that, sweetie,” I say, doing everything not to show any unease about the subject. As far as everyone else is concerned, I’m hopelessly in love with Wes. For now, I need them all to continue thinking just that. “But I know you’re going to have an incredible time with your daddy. When you come home, I want to hear all about it.”
“Okay,” she replies, a bit of despondency in her tone. Thankfully, the butterfly exhibit looms in front of us, and all talk of my marrying Drew disappears as we enter the conservatory.
Now that the crowd has dissipated and we’re in a smaller space, Drew allows the girls to walk farther ahead while we hang back. He still keeps his eyes trained on them as they roam the tropical oasis, pointing out all the different flowers, grinning when a butterfly floats around them.
“Sorry about that,” he says after a while, breaking the silence between us. “I didn’t mean for her to put you on the spot like that or for you to be uncomfortable, especially after—”
“Hey.” I grab his arm and we both stop walking.
Facing him, I meet his eyes, my hand still holding onto him. Just the feel of him makes my heart rate speed up. His body tenses, his bicep bulging under my touch. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, a hard swallow.
“She’s a kid. She doesn’t know any better. She’s so used to seeing us together, her logical conclusion is that I’d want to go with you guys. Kids Charlotte’s age don’t understand the concept that there are different kinds of love.”
I squeeze his bicep, then drop my hold and head deeper into the gardens before glancing over my shoulder. “Remember, Drew…”
“What’s that?” He hurries to catch up to me.
“I work with children for a living.” I pause, contemplating for a moment before continuing. “And adults who act like children, now that I think about it. You never have to worry about what those girls say around me. In fact, I want them to say whatever pops into their minds.” My expression turns serious, solemn, as I shift my focus straight ahead.
“Many of the kids I work with are so scared and vulnerable. They’ve never known happiness. They’ve never been able to say whatever they wanted, do whatever they wanted without fear of repercussion.” I stop walking and face him once more. “Can you imagine growing up in a house where you were scared to breathe because of what those entrusted to care for you might do?” My eyes become intense, my voice impassioned. Drew simply remains silent, seemingly unsure how to respond.
I rarely speak of my work with anyone apart from my colleagues at DCF and occasionally my father. It’s too sad, too tragic. No one needs to face the things I do on a daily basis unless they’re ready for it. When I first started, I went to sleep with tears in my eyes, unable to wrap my head around some of the abuse I witnessed. It still gets to me, but I remind myself that I’m there to help, to do everything in my power to give them the second chance they deserve.
“So many of my kids have gone through that. My latest one, her ‘parents’ were meth addicts, always had people over, and were usually too high to take care of her or her little sister. They did everything to pretend the kids didn’t exist, even going so far as beating them if they stepped foot out of their rooms when their friends were over. She was scared to leave her bed to go to the bathroom because of what they might do, so she would wet the bed. As you can imagine, they didn’t like that, either. She’s been in foster care for three years now. She’s starting to make improvements, but that fear is still present, regardless of how loving and caring her foster family is. She still wets the bed. She’s still scared to say what she wants, to talk about her feelings. She’s still petrified of retribution.”
His lips part as he swallows hard. “My god…”
“I know.”
/>
“I can’t imagine doing anything that would put my girls in harm’s way.” His voice is quiet so the two girls currently squealing with delight as a butterfly lands on Charlotte’s shoulder can’t hear us. “I’ll do anything for them. Nothing is off-limits when it comes to those girls. They’re my life. How can anyone treat their kids like they’re disposable?”
“I wish I knew.”
“I guess that’s why I still struggle with what Carla did…what my own mother did. I’ll never let anything come between me and those two girls. I’d rather die.”
I reach for his hand, grasping it in mine. I’m sending mixed signals, but something about this moment, about being here with Drew and the girls, makes this feel right.
“And that’s only one story. I have thousands more exactly like that one…or worse. So please, Drew, don’t ever feel the need to apologize for anything your girls say.” My face brightens as we turn the corner, our fingers entwined, heading down the row of flowers Alyssa and Charlotte are now exploring. “Nothing should discourage them from saying whatever pops into their mind. And, if I’m being honest…” I tilt my head, meeting his dark eyes. “I think it’s sweet they want me to go to Disney World with you.”
He licks his lips, a yearning in his gaze. “And, if I’m being honest, I’d want you to come with us, too.”
We stop walking and I face him, smiling a wide smile. I don’t want to put too much hope into his words. I’ve made that mistake before. But right now, a part of me wants to believe they have meaning. “Me, too, Drew.”
We spend the next twenty minutes following Alyssa and Charlotte through the butterfly exhibit. When they seem to have had enough, we make our way toward the exit, my hand still enclosed in Drew’s. Everything is perfect as I look between him and the girls, who walk ahead of us, a map of the museum stretched out in front of them, arguing over where to go next.
As Alyssa points to the space exhibit, they nearly ram into a woman. Drew and I are so lost in our own conversation, he almost doesn’t realize it himself, pulling them back just in the nick of time.
Love Triangle: Six Books of Torn Desire Page 106
