by Lee, R. A.
There was a clause stating Jake could take it all away if things went awry in the first year, but Brooke would fight it if she had to. Jake did not prepare her for his mother. He had brought her into a war he didn’t want to fight for himself.
A sliver of light cut into the darkness as the door was opened a crack. Jake’s silhouette waited for her to acknowledge him.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” Brooke whispered angrily. “You did not prepare me for this. I will not allow my family to be insulted. I don’t care if she was right. I have never been so insulted in my entire life. Don’t you dare talk to me about this.”
For a moment, Jake stood at the door but he didn’t say anything. Brooke turned over and Jake closed the door leaving her in the darkness. Exhausted, Brooke fell asleep on the bed in her dress.
Waking, she was greeted by the happy family in the photo. Turning away, Brooke got ready for her day. Maybe Jake had gone back to the city. Maybe he was calling his lawyer to dissolve their agreement. Nothing would change if she stayed in bed.
Brooke didn’t see Jake or his car as she took MJ to the park. His mother most likely wouldn’t be talking to Brooke again.
How could she have handled it differently?
Guilt and anger mingled in an emotion Brooke couldn’t decipher. Sitting at the park, Brooke called Melinda and tried not to cry as she told her the story of the failed family dinner.
“I’m so sorry,” Melinda said, trying to comfort her friend. “Do you want me to call Jake and see where he’s at?”
Brooke wiped her tears and sniffled.
“No, I have to handle this,” Brooke explained. “I should have thought about this more carefully.”
“Let me know what happens,” Melinda insisted before they said good-bye.
Tugging MJ’s wagon while he napped, Brooke tried to think about what she could do to correct the situation. Either Jake was going to be angry, they were going to work it out or he was just going to call his lawyer to deal with his mistake.
Arriving at the house, Jake’s sports car was parked in front, and Brooke took a deep breath before pulling the wagon up to the kitchen door.
“Wake up,” she urged MJ and he yawned, got up with renewed energy and ran to the backyard. Brooke held onto the door handle and finally got the nerve to turn it and go inside.
Sitting at the island drinking coffee, Jake waited for her alone. Meeting his gaze, Brooke stood and waited for some sort of direction.
“Have some coffee,” he offered. Brooke nodded and grabbed a mug on the counter, poured coffee and sat across from Jake. Looking more relaxed than she had anticipated, Jake just stared and drank his coffee.
Brooke sipped the black brew and didn’t feel the need to add creamer. Bitter was better.
“You know,” he finally said as if they were in a business meeting, “one of the stipulations of our agreement was that you would get along with my mother. Be the bridge between us.”
Brooke didn’t respond.
“You upset her greatly and now she’s upset with me,” he continued. “You didn’t have the right to disrespect her like that.”
Brooke’s mouth flew open in indignation, but Jake held out his hand for her to remain quiet.
“I didn’t prepare you for this,” he said. “I knew how my mother would react. If I wanted someone who would back down I would not have chosen you,” he said.
This threw Brooke.
Standing and pushing back her chair, Brooke glared at Jake.
That was all she did.
“I’m not saying I appreciate it and want this to be a regular thing,” he added. “You need to repair this.”
“You want me to repair your relationship with your mother?” Brooke finally replied rhetorically.
“No,” he clarified. “You have to repair your relationship with my mother.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said in disbelief.
Jake didn’t respond and MJ came in asking for dinner.
“In a minute, honey,” she said, still holding Jake’s stare. Breaking eye contact, Jake stood and left without acknowledging MJ.
After making dinner for the two of them, Brooke thought about Jake’s suggestion and was still thinking about it when she got into bed.
What relationship with his mother? she wondered.
Jake was the one who couldn’t face his mother.
Slamming her fist into her soft bed, Brooke groaned and turned away from the photo.
What am I doing here? This was not in her plan. She just wanted a good education and security for her son and mother.
Brooke was willing to give of herself, but she didn’t understand the parameters of the compromise into which she had entered.
On one level she was supposed to play the dutiful wife, but on the other she was supposed to confront Jake’s mother and shield him from her anger, all while he was off with his girlfriend in the city.
This is what she signed on for the sake of her family.
Trying to figure out what she should do to mend the situation, Brooke fell asleep staring at the happy family photo. Being a dutiful wife and mother was not a job for the woman in the photo; it was love.
Reminding herself that at one time she had been loved and respected, Brooke had peaceful dreams.
The next morning, Brooke visited her mother and didn’t mention the argument with Jake’s mother. Looking better than ever, her mother talked animatedly with MJ who told her all about his new home and the old lady who lived out back.
“How do you like your new father,” her mother asked and Brooke cringed. Jake hadn’t been interested in MJ enough for that to be an issue.
Looking confused, MJ turned to Brooke.
“Jake’s away a lot,” Brooke explained. “He doesn’t call him that.”
“When will I meet this Jake?” her mother asked concerned.
“Soon,” Brooke promised, but wasn’t sure she could deliver.
“I look forward to it,” she said and a caretaker announced visiting hours were up. Brooke kissed her mother and promised to return the next weekend.
Happy her mother was looking better, Brooke wondered if her mother was strong enough to learn the truth about her arrangement with Jake.
It stung when her mother asked if MJ liked his new father. Brooke never considered that would be a possibility. Jake was never around so MJ didn’t really ask about the man she had married. When he did talk about Jake, he called him by name. Now that her mother asked him about his new father, MJ was sure to ask her why he didn’t call him dad and she didn’t want to explain he already had a dad.
Tears threatened to blur her vision, so she wiped them away as they drove up to the house.
Joining MJ in the backyard, Brooke sat on the lounger. Startled when the French doors opened, Brooke straightened and was very tense expecting the worst. Jake’s mother emerged. She was just as startled as Brooke and clutching something to her chest. Brooke relaxed and Jake’s mother quickly headed up the path to her house.
The sun started its slow dip to the horizon and Brooke made dinner and got MJ to bed. Brooke noticed something different in her room but didn’t see anything out of place.
Jake returned and Brooke heard him walk up the stairs and shut his door.
Brooke went to sleep feeling as if something was out of place.
The next morning, Brooke was glad when Mrs. Hurligan offered to take MJ to the park. She needed some time to figure out how she was going to work out a truce with Jake’s mother.
Taking a nap, Brooke suddenly realized what was different. Her happy family photo was not on her nightstand. Frantically searching around the nightstand and her bed, Brooke couldn’t find the photo.
Brooke searched MJ’s room, the living and dining rooms and kitchen. The photo was not in the house unless it was in Jake’s room or at the end of the hallway.
Returning to her room, Brooke sat at the edge of her bed. There was a new frame on her dresser. It was a p
hoto of Jake.
Jake’s mother.
Brooke had seen her leaving the house with something. Frozen, Brooke realized she was about to detonate a nuclear explosion on her mother-in-law.
What proof do I have?
She couldn’t just go up to his mother and demand something from her based on a theory. Weren’t things bad enough already between them? She was supposed to mend, not bend things more out of control.
“I’m just going to ask her,” she said out loud.
Marching up the path to her mother-in-law’s house, Brooke banged on the door.
“What do you want?” his mother called impatiently through the door.
“I have to ask you a question,” Brooke said, trying not to sound like she felt.
“Ask,” she said loudly through the door.
“I want to talk to you in person,” Brooke said, trying to coax the old lady into opening the door.
There was nothing, then the door handle turned and the door was opened. Brooke saw his mother go to her living room and Brooke let herself in and followed.
Sitting on her white couch, Jake’s mother waited for Brooke to confront her. Pictures of Jake and his mother and a gentleman who was most likely Mr. Parker were all over the walls and in frames on tables and shelves.
The mother-in-law’s house was more updated than the main house, but it looked as if an elderly couple lived there and Brooke tried to think of her mother-in-law like her mother or Mrs. Hurligan. Compassionate.
Sitting calmly, Brooke thought about her question before asking the woman directly.
“I had a photo of my husband and child on my nightstand and it’s missing,” Brooke said calmly and slowly. “It’s missing. I was wondering if you know what happened to it?”
Jake’s mother shrugged.
“I don’t know anything about your photo,” she said.
“I noticed there’s a photo of Jake on the dresser that I didn’t put there,” Brooke said. “Do you know anything about that?”
“I might have put that there,” she confessed without remorse.
Brooke was seething.
“Do you happen to know who took my photo?” she asked, getting impatient.
“I don’t know who took your photo,” she said.
In the blink of an eye, Jake’s mother fired the first shot.
“I don’t understand why you would have a photo of another man on your nightstand,” she smirked. “There should only be a picture of your husband and child.”
Brooke absorbed the impact.
“That’s none of your business,” she corrected the old woman. “I have my reasons.”
“I also don’t understand why you’re sleeping downstairs when your husband is upstairs,” his mother shot again.
“I don’t have to explain our living arrangement to you,” Brooke said deflecting.
Jake’s mother stood.
“It’s my duty to protect my son,” she scolded Brooke. “I don’t like what I see.”
“Where is the photo, Mrs. Parker?” Brooke stood and pleaded. She didn’t want to get into another fight with Jake’s mother, but she could tell the woman was trying to make a point. “Just give me the photo and we’ll never have to speak to one another again.”
“You’re just using my son,” Jake’s mother snapped.
“That’s it,” Brooke warned her. “I’m going to look for it myself.”
Filled with rage and fury she had never felt before, Brooke started looking around the living room and in drawers while Jake’s mother threatened her.
“You get out of my house or I’ll call the cops,” she asserted.
“Good,” Brooke said, “then they can help me find the photo.” Knocking over frames and looking under the couch, Brooke was exhausted but she wasn’t leaving without her picture.
“I don’t want to tear this place apart but I will,” Brooke warned. Jake’s mother did not reach for the phone. Brooke had called her bluff.
“Fine,” Brooke said. Grabbing a frame from the wall, Brooke opened the front door and threw it out onto the grass. Jake’s mother was horrified. Brooke was horrified. Her anger stretched far beyond the photograph. The old woman was trying to steal a memory, make her forget. It was all Brooke had left and she wasn’t leaving without it.
Brooke grabbed two more off a table and tossed them out the door. More frames from the wall and shelves.
“How dare you,” she yelled. “That’s our wedding photo!”
Brooke took it outside and smashed it on the grass and a crack split down the couple.
Running outside, Jake’s mother grabbed the large framed photo of her wedding photo and screamed at Brooke.
“This is our wedding photo,” she yelled, turning red. Part of Brooke was concerned the old woman was going to have a stroke, but Brooke was too angry to back off.
“This is a photo of my husband,” she cried. “He’s dead now, this is all I have left.”
“Brooke!” Jake yelled as he stood frozen in the middle of the backyard.
“Don’t you interrupt, Jake,” she pointed at him. “This is between your mother and me. You wanted me to fix this, I’m going to fix this.”
“How dare you come into my home and desecrate my husband’s memory,” his mother sputtered. “You are a cold and horrible person.”
“No, I’m not the cold and horrible person,” Brooke corrected the old woman angrily. Throat tight, Brooke fought for each word. “You took a photo of my family. You tried to take away my memory. You took a photo of my dead husband,” she growled. Holding back tears, Brooke was not finished scolding the old woman.
“That was one of the happiest moments in my life before a stupid accident took him away at the age of 32,” Brooke said, grasping for words and air. “That picture was before he left me, my son and our home. Am I using your son? You bet your ass I am. You scare the hell out of him. He had to go behind your back because you’re such an uncaring, unsupportive, bitter woman.”
Brooke couldn’t be there anymore. Hot fury and anger blurred her vision but she made her way down the pathway and then down the driveway to the sidewalk. Picking up speed, Brooke just ran and ran trying to escape, hoping to run so fast she could leave everything behind.
Exhausted, Brooke finally collapsed on a bus bench. Gasping, she sat on the bench angry with herself, angry with Matthew for not being more careful, angry with Jake’s mother for being so overbearing and angry she didn’t realize her actions would lead her to where she was.
It seemed like the only option, marrying for security. Just one job, one rich uncle and she wouldn’t be in the middle of a family feud she didn’t understand. This wasn’t her family.
Her family was at home right now wondering why his mother wasn’t there to make him dinner.
Brooke sighed. She had to go home.
Walking back, Brooke got lost but she was able to find her way to the street and it was dark when she walked up the driveway like a bad dog ready to take his punishment.
Peeking in the kitchen window, Brooke saw that Mrs. Hurligan was sitting with MJ having dinner.
Brooke entered the kitchen and MJ hopped off his chair to greet her. Hugging him, Brooke told him to finish his dinner. Staring out the kitchen window, Brooke saw Jake coming from his mother’s house with his head down and hands in his pocket. Turning quickly, she gave MJ two desserts and waited for what seemed like enough time for Jake to go to his room.
If he were in the living room, it would be harder for her to walk to her room. Done with his desserts, Brooke took MJ in her arms and thanked Mrs. Hurligan for taking care of her son. Walking slowly through the door, Brooke didn’t see Jake so she put MJ to bed and read him two stories.
Sitting next to his bed, Brooke wondered what to do. Did she just go to bed? Did she wait to talk to Jake? Did she pack her bags and get out of the situation before things escalated?
Brooke turned off MJ’s light and went to her room and sat on the bed. Exhausted, she rolled
onto the bed and turned toward the nightstand. Sitting up, she saw that her photo had been returned. Sobbing uncontrollably, Brooke collapsed and fell asleep facing the happy family.
Morning came and she placed her hand on the photo and said a prayer. Taking a shower and dressing, Brooke poured cereal for MJ and they ate their food in silence. Mrs. Hurligan arrived and Brooke was surprised. It was her day off.
Suddenly tense, Brooke waited for the next sign this morning would be different than the others since she arrived.
“Mrs. Parker wanted me to take MJ to the toy store,” Mrs. Hurligan explained. Meeting her eyes, Brooke saw that she was trying to tell her that Jake’s mother wanted to talk to her alone.
“Would you like that, MJ?” she asked and MJ nodded.
“Go get dressed,” Brooke said cheerfully and Mrs. Hurligan sat down.
Brooke covered her mouth with her hands and fretted.
“You must have made an impression on her,” Mrs. Hurligan confided in her.
“I believe I did,” Brooke agreed.
“You have to stand your ground,” Mrs. Hurligan continued as she looked for something in her purse. “She is strong-willed but she is loving.”
Loving?
MJ raced back into the room, and after helping him put on his shoes, Mrs. Hurligan wished her luck as they left.
“I love you,” Brooke called after them and sighed. Sitting at the island, she wondered if she was supposed to go see her mother-in-law or wait for her to arrive.
Brooke decided to sit and wait.
She didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and Brooke started to panic.
“Brooke,” Jake’s voice said softly. “My mother wants to see you at the house.”
Without saying good-bye, Jake left. Waiting a few minutes, Brooke stood and walked slowly through the house, out the French doors and up the path.
There were no frames on the ground and the glass had been picked up as if there was never a crazy psychotic breakdown.
Before Brooke got to the door, it opened. When no one greeted her, Brooke slowly pushed it open and saw Jake’s mother sitting on her couch. There was a formal tea set up on the coffee table.
