by Roy, Chelsea
Deeply unsatisfied with himself, he had wandered around Aimee’s home and looked at the photos of her and a girl he knew had to be Brenna. Brenna was a beautiful girl and feelings of fatherly pride had nothing to do with it. After years in the entertainment industry, Brent knew Brenna could model if she so chose. Even at her young age it was clear she was tall and leggy and had the best of his and Aimee’s looks. From the photos littered throughout the house, he could tell her and Aimee were very close.
Once Aimee’s crying had stopped and he was certain she was sleeping, he’d gone into Brenna’s room. Being in there made him feel like an intruder but he wanted some insight into his daughter before he met her. He had been honestly shocked at her room. For some reason he’d been expecting pink or purple, a real girly girl room. Instead, the room was splashed with reds, oranges, and yellows. Everything was bright and bold. There were several framed posters of Destruction in her room, as well as several autographed pictures of him. Aimee had clearly gone to some length to make sure Brenna had access to at least some part of her dad.
Everything Aimee had done was so confusing to Brent. He didn’t understand any of it. She made sure his daughter knew about him. She had sought him out to tell him about their daughter. She immediately engaged in sexual play with him. When he considered the facts he was presented with, it seemed like Aimee still loved him. Had never stopped loving him. What, then, was the real reason for her not coming home to him after she’d turned eighteen? He was missing something, some important fact that would help him understand this entire mess.
Gazing at the woman curled into a ball on the bed, he realized that as angry as he was at Aimee, part of him still loved her. Parts of her were still the same as the girl he’d fallen for and planned to spend the rest of his life with. He approached the bed on silent feet and stared down at her. Even in the dim light coming from the hallway he could see the silvery tracks of her tears. He exhaled hard and his own eyes watered.
“I really am sorry.” Aimee’s low, scratchy voice was unexpected and it startled his heart into a rapid rhythm.
“I’m sorry for what happened in the limo and your living room.” He kept his voice low, his tone neutral. He didn’t want to hurt this woman any more than she already was.
“It’s more important for me that you have a good relationship with Brenna than with me.” He heard a slight tremble, but she kept going. “I think I need to put what I want aside and just let your relationship with her happen.”
“I think you’re an amazing woman,” Brent admitted softly. “If things were different…” his voice trailed off. If things had been different they would be celebrating wedding anniversaries and probably have one or two more kids running around.
They were both silent for several moments, each lost in their own thoughts.
“There’s blankets inside the ottoman if you need them,” Aimee offered tentatively. Brent nodded, and then realized she probably couldn’t see him.
“Thanks. I guess I should probably try to get some sleep. I’m just nervous, you know?” He only had this one chance to make a good initial impression with his daughter and he was twisted up in knots over it.
“Relax. Sleep. Whatever is going on between you and me, it’ll keep, okay? Brenna’s going to be thrilled you’re here.” Brent reached out and squeezed Aimee on the shoulder gratefully.
“Night Aimee. Thanks for…” He stalled out. He wasn’t sure how to not sound like an asshole here. He settled for, “Just, thanks.”
As he left the room, Aimee murmured, “Of course.” And as he slid the door closed he could have sworn he heard her say, “I love you both.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aimee woke up at the ungodly hour of six in the morning. She had barely slept at all and could feel the effects. Her eyes were gritty and her brain was working sluggishly. Despite that, she knew she needed to reach out to Brenna and let her know Brent was waiting. Brenna wasn’t due home until late afternoon but Aimee knew she’d jump at the chance to spend time with her dad. Aimee’s hand patted around her nightstand until she located the square lump of her phone. Palming it, she dialed her daughter’s number.
“Mama, is everything okay?” Brenna sounded sleepy and panicked.
“Baby, everything is fine. I promise. I just needed to talk to you about something that couldn’t wait.” Aimee felt bad that she’d scared her daughter with the early morning call but there wasn’t any way around that.
“What couldn’t wait until a normal hour mom?” Brenna sounded just the tiniest bit annoyed and Aimee grinned. Her girl liked her beauty rest.
“You know I went to the concert last night,” she said slowly.
“Did you see him, mom?” Brenna asked excitedly, all traces of sleep gone.
“I did. I was able to talk to him, too. After the concert.” Brenna didn’t need to know the particulars of the conversation or anything that transpired with Brent.
“What happened?” Brenna’s voice was hushed. This was a huge deal for both of them and Brenna knew it. Aimee had never hidden her feelings from her daughter.
“He’s thrilled about you. He can’t wait to meet you.” Aimee heard her daughter gasp.
“Really?” Brenna breathed. Aimee heard her daughter sniffle and wished like hell this conversation wasn’t taking place over a phone.
Borrowing a phrase from one of her and Brenna’s favorite kid movies, Aimee said, “Really, really.”
“When, mom? When do I get to meet him? This weekend? Today? When, mom?” Brenna’s words tumbled out in a jumbled rush. Aimee could picture Brenna all but vibrating with energy in her sleeping bag.
“Baby, he’s here right now. You get to meet him today.” Brenna shrieked, the sound loud and piercing. Aimee’s eardrums rang and she held the phone away from her ear, grimacing. She was certain every member of Brenna’s friend Lacy’s house was now awake.
“I’m coming home right now. And don’t worry, I’ll tell Mrs. Wells I’m leaving.” Before Aimee could say anything, the line was disconnected. Aimee scrubbed her hands over her face and exhaled noisily. Brenna’s friend lived about six houses away so it wouldn’t take Brenna any time at all to get home. Everything was about to get real whether she was ready for it or not.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Mom! I’m home!” The front door slammed closed, the noise waking Brent from a dead sleep. He shot upwards on the couch and looked around, his eyes wild and feeling like he’d only fallen asleep about ten minutes ago. “Mom!” The voice called again.
Brent glanced at the antique clock on the wall. It wasn’t even seven a.m. and he was relatively certain he was about to come face to face with his daughter. His heart was galloping in his chest and his breathing was shallow. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He sure as shit wasn’t going to have his first-ever panic attack in front of his daughter. Standing up, he straightened his clothes and tried to pat down his hair. His first look at Brenna as she skipped into the living room knocked the breath right out of him.
“Hey Brenna.” He said stupidly, when she stopped in her tracks and stared at him with large round eyes. She was tall and willowy and sported a backpack slung over her shoulder. Her hair was long and dark and pulled back into a sleek ponytail.
“Dad?” She asked, smiling widely. When he nodded she took several hesitant steps forward. Brent felt a crushing surge of emotion in his chest. She had Aimee’s bright smile.
“Yeah.” He managed to choke out, smiling back as best he could without crying. Brenna dropped her bag on the floor and launched herself at him. He hardly had time to brace himself before she landed in his arms and wrapped herself around him. He could feel her slender body shaking as she clung to him.
“I knew you’d come home with mom! I’ve waited so long to meet you!” Brenna’s arms squeezed around his neck and her nose pressed into his neck. Brent felt tears prick his eyes. This was his daughter.
“Just let me look at you for a sec,” he breathed. Brenna’s
hold loosened and she pulled back enough for him to study her face. He saw so much of himself there, but Aimee was undeniably there too. Brenna’s eyes were bright with tears. Her very, very green eyes. “Oh sweetheart.” Brent pulled her back into his arms and wrapped her up tight.
“Mom always said I look like you. I’ve seen so many pictures. I wasn’t sure but now I am.” Brenna’s sounded enthusiastic despite the tears he could still feel wetting his neck. “I just can’t believe you’re here!”
“I would’ve been here sooner if I’d known, Brenna.” Brent wanted her to understand he hadn’t abandoned her. Letting her think that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He didn’t want to blame Aimee for keeping them apart, but he didn’t want to shoulder the responsibility for a situation that wasn’t of his making.
“She knows it was my choices that kept you in the dark, Brent.” Aimee’s soft voice was a shock. He was so wrapped up in Brenna he hadn’t heard her come into the room.
Brent looked over Brenna’s head at Aimee. She was dressed in holey jeans and a casual white tee. Her hair was pulled back like Brenna’s into a sleek ponytail and her eyes were puffy and red. Still, she looked just like the Aimee from his past and seeing her was jarring.
“Mom told me it was her fault you weren’t around,” Brenna told him solemnly. Unwrapping herself, she stepped back from his arms but linked their fingers together. “She said she didn’t know how to fix what she’d caused.” Brent looked down into his daughter’s earnest face. Christ, she was so breathtakingly beautiful. And she was his!
“You weren’t mad at her?” He couldn’t help but ask his girl. He remembered being a pre-teen. He’d been mad at everything then, especially his parents. In his mind at the time, nothing they’d done was right.
“Sure.” She admitted. “I’ve been mad at her about it plenty of times. It’s the only thing we’ve ever argued about. But I love my mom and I know she was just doing what she thought was best for everyone.”
Brenna’s capacity to understand and simplify such a grownup issue floored Brent. It was obvious Aimee had done a fantastic job raising her. Bitterness swept through him because it should have been the both of them raising this amazing, wonderful girl. She was already halfway grown and he missed out on all of it. He tried to tamp down his feelings so they didn’t spill out and contaminate his and Brenna’s new relationship.
“I’m trying to understand your mom’s reasons,” Brent told her carefully. “I’m just having a really hard time.” Brenna nodded, a look of understanding on her face.
“Mama told me not to expect the two of you to magically get back together. She said your lives were really different now and that time changes how people feel. I know what she means but I still think it would be cool if my mom and dad lived together.” Brent coughed. Yeah, that wasn’t happening.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he told Brenna, “but your mom is right. We’re very different people now.” Christ, was this the minefield that divorced parents navigated? Because if it was, it sucked to know you were continually disappointing your kid.
Brenna smiled sweetly at him. “Oh, you’re not,” she reassured him. She tugged on his hand. “C’mon. Mom’s not half decent until she’s had her Starbucks. She can go and I’ll show you the book I made you.” Brenna was bouncing at the end of his arm and he smiled at her antics. Her enthusiasm was contagious. Aimee moved over to stand in front of him and he looked into her soft brown eyes.
“Do you want anything from Starbucks?” She asked him. Her face held no trace of a smile, but she didn’t look angry. If pressed, he’d say she looked sad and resigned. He glanced over at his daughter who was carefully watching their interaction.
“Brenna, sweetheart, can you give me and your mom a minute?” He asked. Brenna didn’t need to watch a play-by-play of the ongoing drama between him and Aimee.
“Sure dad. I’ll be in my room.” Brenna released his hand and skipped down the hallway, her ponytail bouncing and swinging. Her backpack still sat in the middle of the floor where she’d dropped it. Brent looked over at Aimee again.
“I appreciate you giving me time alone with her,” he told Aimee. “I know you don’t have to, so, thank you.” Aimee nodded and bit her lip. He watched as the mask dropped and she looked miserably sad.
“You’re her dad. It was never my intent to keep you apart. It just happened.” She cleared her throat and shook her head. “You’re not a bad guy and I’m not going to treat you that way. Of course you can spend time alone with her.” The tip of Aimee’s nose had turned red, a sure sign she was battling tears.
“Still, Aims. I appreciate it. You could have made this whole thing so much uglier.” Despite his resolve not to touch her, he brushed his open palm down her arm in a gesture meant to comfort. She trembled and looked away.
“Did you want anything?” She flushed. “From Starbucks, I mean. I’ll be gone about a half an hour.”
“I’ll never turn down Starbucks. I still like coffee just the same as I did in college.” Brent smiled briefly at the memories. So much of their time studying for biology had been spent at the coffee house near campus. “I even drink the same drink.”
Aimee nodded, clearly needing no clarification as to what he drank. “I’ll see you in a bit, then.” She said softly.
Brent watched as Aimee moved gracefully, grabbing her purse from a trio of fancy hooks that hung on the wall. They were both silent as she left the house through the garage. Intellectually he knew she was coming back but watching her walk away made him feel like an elephant had kicked him in the chest. The last time she’d walked away had resulted in his worst nightmare.
Shaking off the depressing thoughts, he pulled open his phone. He wanted to tell someone about the night he’d just had and Eric was the best person to unload on. He never judged and put everyone’s best interests first. He tapped out a quick text.
“Dude, just met Brenna. She is AWESOME. Things not so great with Aims.” Not great was the understatement of the century. Strained, tense, maddening. Those were all better words to describe how things were. Brent’s phone dinged almost immediately, surprising him. He hadn’t thought Eric would respond so quickly because of the early hour.
“Happy for u my friend. U deserve it. Give Aims a break. We all make mistakes.” Brent snorted and rolled his eyes. Of course Eric would take up for Aimee. It was his nature to fight for the underdog.
“Going to spend the day with them. Will take pics so u can see. I’ll try to go easy.”
“U better. It’ll lead to good things. See u when u get back.” Brent smiled and pocketed his phone. He took a breath, shored up his courage, and walked down the hall to Brenna’s room. When he poked his head in the open door, she was sitting on the floor with a giant scrapbook in her hands. Her phone was in her hand and she was tapping away one-handedly.
“Hey sweetheart,” he said, and then hoped she was okay with the endearment. It felt natural to him. Brenna smiled up at him and patted the floor next to her.
“You’re not too old to sit on the floor, right?” She asked cheekily. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m less than two years older than your mom!” He protested. Brenna laughed too.
“Ancient, then!” She teased. Brent rolled his eyes and sat down on the carpet next to his girl. He could see her fingers trembling as she held the book and knew she was making a huge effort to stay calm and contain her emotions. It was hard for him and he imagined it took a herculean effort for a 9 year old to do it.
“What do you have there?” He asked gently. Brenna’s chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. He cautiously reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She relaxed into him immediately and he smiled, pleased that she was so affectionate.
“My mom helped me make a book of my life. It’s for you because mom said you would want to see it once we met. It has everything in here.” Brenna smoothed her hand down the cover of the book and Brent’s heart stuttered. He didn�
�t know if looking at the book with her would be a good thing or not. It would be putting every last thing he’d missed front and center. Understanding the enormity of what he’d lost out on might make him even angrier at Aimee.
“That’s a lot, then,” he murmured, stalling.
Brenna nodded. “Every time something big happens, I add to it. Like, this last school year I was in a huge dance competition so I added pictures from that. Mom also adds stuff she thinks is important, like my awards ceremonies.” Brent felt absurdly proud that his daughter was so accomplished.
“You dance?” He asked her; curious to learn what sparked her passion.
“I love it. Mom says I’m creative like you.” He and Brenna smiled goofily. He cleared his throat, determined to get through this in a manly, non-crying kind of way.
“So you and your mom both work on the book?” He asked. He was surprised to hear Aimee worked on it too. Hell, he was surprised that Aimee played him up to Brenna by telling her their similarities. He wouldn’t have guessed she would do that for him.
“We do. Mom said she wanted you to know all about me. And there’s been so much stuff that if we didn’t make a book I know I’d leave something out.” Brent’s eyes were watering. He couldn’t help himself and was about to give away his man-card voluntarily. His daughter was amazing and she had a thoughtful, loving mom. He pulled Brenna closer and she lay the book on top of each of their thighs so it was split down the middle.
“What’re you waiting for?” Brent took a deep breath, man-card in hand and tears at the ready. “Show me all about you.”
CHAPTER NINE
Aimee knew it made her a complete chicken, but she wanted to stay out of the house while Brenna and Brent took a walk down memory lane. She didn’t want to see Brent’s eyes accusing her of all the things he’d missed. She didn’t want to see Brenna’s eyes darken with disappointment that her mom hadn’t been strong enough to enter back into Brent’s life. Most of all, she didn’t want to see the two people she loved most in the world judge her and find her lacking.
