by Law, Kim
“I’m not saying that’s not bad,” he said. “It is. But your anger, it feels like more.”
“Her leaking the story is only the tip of the iceberg.” Cat smiled at a camera when a reporter shouted out her name, then returned to whispering to her brother. “She’s been manipulating things for years. I’ve had enough.”
JP eyed her. “More than I already know about?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I will. But not yet.” She looked at Brody again. He was making his way over to her.
“I’m worried about you,” JP said. “You seem different.”
She looked up at him then, surprised that he’d noticed. “Good different or bad different?”
He studied her before answering. “Harder,” he finally said. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
“It’s good,” she assured him. “And I’ll be fine. I needed to be different.”
He nodded subtly toward Brody. “So this is real? Not just teenage memories?”
She watched the man she loved. He was currently watching her kids. She was about to introduce the three of them, and she hoped with everything she had that it would end the way she wanted.
“It’s real.”
“Good for you.” Her brother pulled her to his side, the top of her head barely skimming his chin as he hugged her tight. He whispered in her ear, “Sorry I brought Mom. I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
“Don’t worry about it. She would have come herself. Thomas Harrison is getting her attention, and she couldn’t have that.”
They both turned their sights on their mother, who was now taking selfies with several people from the crowd. Humorously, Thomas Harrison was doing the same.
“I never thought she’d sink as low as them,” JP admitted.
But Cat knew better. Their mother had sunk lower.
With more nerves than Brody knew was possible, he approached Cat where she stood with her family. Her sister-in-law gave him a once-over, nodding when she finished as if providing her approval. Cat jabbed her in the side.
“Good morning, Cat,” he said. He sounded stiff. “Good to see you today.” Cat’s sister-in-law guffawed.
Cat punched her again.
“Morning, Brody.” Cat smiled up at him. “Don’t look so grim. There are lots of cameras watching us right now.”
He was aware of those cameras. They’d been following him all week. He also suspected the people behind them must feel as if they’d won the lottery today. Davenports, a Harrison, and a Romeo and Juliet affair, all in the same place at the same time.
Not to mention, he was about to meet Cat’s kids.
And to think, he’d once sworn he wouldn’t be put in the spotlight. For anyone. But Cat was different. If the spotlight was what it took to be with her, then sign him up.
Cat introduced him to her brother and sister-in-law, and the three of them made small talk for a few minutes. While that was going on, Brody noticed that Emma Davenport kept a steely look turned their way. She wasn’t pleased at all to see her family cavorting with the enemy.
Too damned bad. He wasn’t pleased with her for anything.
“Are you my mommy’s friend?” a perky, feminine voice asked from his left side. Brody looked down. He’d seen pictures, yet was taken aback at just how much Cat’s daughter looked like her.
“I am. And I’m guessing that your name is Becca?”
The child smiled sweetly, but he was no fool. This kid already knew how to work the system, and he could feel himself falling immediately under her spell. “I’m the oldest,” she announced. Then she stuck one tiny foot out for him to see. Sparkly silver-and-purple shoes winked back at him. “Do you like my new shoes?”
Vega and Cat both laughed, but Brody kept his expression serious. He admired the shoes carefully before giving the girl a heartfelt nod.
“I do. They’re quite lovely.”
“My Aunt Vega bought them for me. She loves shoes and I do, too.”
Brody couldn’t keep the smile at bay. The child was precious. But there was another one to meet, too. He turned to his other side, having sensed that Tyler had joined them as well.
He’d been right. The younger boy stood there, a baseball glove tucked under one arm and a ball in his hand. He was looking Brody up and down as if he were the man of the house, and if he said no, then it would be no.
Brody hoped he didn’t say no.
Finally, Tyler made his determination. “I don’t like boyfriends,” he said.
Becca reached around Brody and jabbed Tyler on the arm. “Mom said not to say boyfriend,” she whispered. “He’s just her friend.”
And he clearly had his work cut out with this one. He stooped to Tyler’s level. “How about girlfriends?” he asked. “Do you like them?”
The kid’s face lit up. “My friend Ben has a girlfriend. She’s pretty.”
“Yeah? I’ll bet she is. Girlfriends are like that.” He glanced up at Cat before returning his full attention to her son. “I happen to think your mom is pretty, too.”
The child tilted his head back to look up at his mom. She was standing there, quiet, looking as nervous as Brody felt. Finally Tyler agreed. “She is pretty. Do you want to play ball with me?”
Brody laughed. “I would love to play ball with you. But first, how about I help you learn how to make something?” He motioned to the cordoned-off kids’ area. “Can we do that?”
“You’re working in the kid zone?” Cat asked.
“For a bit. They needed volunteers there.” And he’d figured that would give him plenty of time to get to know her kids. He could tell, though, that the extra time wouldn’t be a requirement. They’d already crawled into his heart. They were a part of Cat. How could he not love that?
“You’re a good guy, Brody Hollister,” Cat said softly.
He gave her a wink as he rose. “And you’re a good woman. I look forward to talking to you later.”
He hadn’t said everything he should have that morning. He wanted Cat and the kids to move there, yes. But he needed her to understand that it was more than just wanting more time with her.
He loved her.
He wanted forever with her.
It was scary as hell to think of telling her that, of opening himself up to the potential hurt, but he would not risk losing her due to fear. If she walked, it would already hurt.
“Me too,” she whispered, and he caught a hint of pink on her cheeks. Probably because her brother and sister-in-law were watching the two of them with rapt attention.
He nodded a good-bye to the adults, then looked down at her kids. “Come on, workers. We have flower boxes to make. I understand flower boxes are very important for this park.”
“I liked your boyfriend,” Tyler declared during dinner that night.
They were sitting around the dining room table at the Davenport home—her mother included; apparently she planned to stay until the park was finished—when Tyler blurted out his proclamation.
Becca shoved potatoes in her mouth and nodded with enthusiasm. “I showed him how good I dance in my new shoes and he liked it. So I like him, too.”
“Catherine.” Her mother said the name as if implying that Cat needed to control her children. Cat ignored her.
“I’m so glad to hear that,” she said. She winked at Tyler. “Because he has this awesome house on the beach, and I thought we might visit him there this week.” In fact, she was thinking of moving back to her beach house. Her mother wouldn’t be there.
“Yes!” both kids shouted.
Emma scowled. “You’re being ridiculous.”
What she was being was an adult. One who didn’t let her mother control her actions. She wanted her kids to have the chance to get to know Brody better. They’d be lucky if they could have him in
their lives, and she intended to see if that could happen.
She’d watched him as he’d worked with them that morning, more than once witnessing a look on his face that brought her to a standstill. It was similar to one he might give her. And it filled Cat with hope. For her, for him. And for her kids.
Maybe for more kids.
When she, Becca, and Tyler began talking about building sand castles on Brody’s beach, her mother literally turned up her nose. “All that will accomplish is getting the paparazzi even more stirred up. Is that what you want?”
Cat snorted. “Seriously? The paparazzi is your concern? Didn’t you start this, Mother?”
“Okay.” Vega stood from her seat. “How about you two munchkins help me out with dessert?”
Becca glanced between her mother and grandmother, her expression one of concern as she picked up on the tension between the two women. Grudgingly, she slid from her chair. She was a sharp kid. She could sense a storm brewing when there was one. Cat appreciated Vega’s fast thinking.
“Thanks,” Cat whispered to Vega.
Vega patted Cat’s hand, then disappeared into the kitchen with the kids.
“Don’t you dare lay into me over this.” Cat rose from her own chair. Only, she didn’t intend to go anywhere. She leaned over the table, her fists pressed into the linen. She was ready to have this out.
“Maybe you two should take it to another room,” JP suggested. “Vega can only keep the kids in the kitchen for so long.”
Neither Cat nor her mother acknowledged him.
“Mommy.” Tyler came running back into the room. He had her cell phone in his hand, his arm held high. Vega rushed in after him. “Your phone is ringing again.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Cat calmed herself long enough to speak to her son. She took the phone, not intending to answer it, but when she glanced down, she was shocked to see the area code showing on the screen.
It was from San Francisco.
“I’ve got to take this.”
She answered the call as she walked out of the room, hearing her mother huff out in exasperation at the same time. Her mother hated it when people answered the phone while at the dinner table.
“Cat?” a woman’s voice said on the phone. “Catherine Carlton?”
It was an articulate, intelligent voice. One Cat hadn’t heard in eighteen years. And it made the breath leave her body.
“Yes,” Cat whispered.
“This is Patricia. I got your message.” When Cat didn’t say anything, Patricia added, “You said it was urgent. Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Cat stepped out the front door, not caring who took her picture while she was out there, or if they happened to catch her crying while they did it. Because she suspected she was about to cry. And she wasn’t going to do it in front of her mother.
“Thank you for calling me back.” The words barely made it out, so she cleared her throat. “It’s good to hear from you, Patricia. I hope you’ve been well.”
She could almost hear the confusion coming through the phone. “What’s the matter, Cat? I haven’t heard from you in eighteen years.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
“I know.” The words were spoken gently. As if Patricia suspected that Cat was on the verge of a breakdown and wanted to keep her calm. “But I always thought I might.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Cat said, her voice cracking again. “When Annabelle died.” She squeezed her eyes closed tight. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but she couldn’t take it back. “I didn’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to now. So I’m sorry I’m calling. But I need some answers about my daughter.”
Patricia had gone completely silent. Cat didn’t even hear breathing.
“Patricia?”
“What are you talking about, Cat?”
“Mom told me. She said Annabelle was sick. She said you’d broken down over it.”
“Sweetheart, Annabelle has been the least sick child I’ve ever known. And I haven’t spoken with your mother in years.”
“Then what happened? Why did she die?”
Again, there was silence.
A flash went off somewhere through the trees in the front yard, and Cat turned her back to the road.
“Cat,” Patricia began, “Annabelle just graduated high school. The two of us are in London at the moment. This trip is her graduation present.”
Cat shook her head. “No. Mom told me . . .”
She stopped speaking as a pain stabbed her in the heart and slowly began to burn downward. It felt like she was being ripped in two.
Her mother had not been unclear eighteen years ago. She’d explained that the baby had been born sick, that they’d chosen to keep that information from Cat so the pain of giving her up wouldn’t be even worse, but that Annabelle had not made it. She’d passed away, and Patricia had been overwhelmed with grief.
Her mother had told her that.
To her face!
And Cat had believed it.
Her eyelids dipped, and she stumbled backward. She flailed out, finally catching hold of the post as the backs of her knees bumped into the concrete railing and she sat with a heavy thump. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“No,” she whispered.
More tears continued to roll.
Giving up her daughter had been bad enough, but thinking she was dead . . .
Being told that was unforgivable.
“Cat?” Patricia said softly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know that’s what you thought.”
Cat nodded. Patricia was a good person. She wouldn’t be a part of this.
“Are you okay?”
Cat shook her head and swiped the back of her hand across her face. The tears wouldn’t stop.
“Are you still in Maine?” Patricia asked.
“Yes.”
“We’re coming through New York in a couple days. Would you like to meet your daughter?”
“What?”
“Annabelle. She knows who you are. I wouldn’t tell her when she was younger, but she’s eighteen now.”
“You told her I’m her mother?”
“Her biological mother, yes. Two months ago. She’s been following things with your family these last few weeks.”
“Well, that has to make a good impression.”
Easy laughter reached through the phone. “She has been a bit shocked.”
“Does she think I didn’t want her?” Cat blurted out. Her daughter was alive. That was something she’d never expected to hear.
“She understands you were sixteen. She knows your choices were limited, Cat. I know your mother. I know your family. You made the brave decision not to bring her up in that environment when you were still trying to figure yourself out, too. I explained that to her.”
Cat let out a single, sad chuckle. “I feel like I’m still trying to figure myself out.”
“Don’t we all, sweetheart? But you made a phone call to me. That’s pretty big. Does that play into you figuring yourself out?”
She nodded and wiped at her face again. The tears were starting to slow. “It does.” Her voice remained shaky. “I’m in love with Annabelle’s father, and I never told him before. I’d planned to tell him about her tonight. Whatever I could find out. I was hoping to show him a picture.”
“I see.” Patricia’s tone was controlled, reminding Cat of a doctor speaking with a potentially unstable patient. Which made her laugh a little. Patricia was a doctor.
And Cat was potentially unstable.
“Does that mean her father is the man we’ve been seeing in the news with you now?” Patricia prodded.
“He is. And he’s a really good guy.”
“I’ve no doubt. But he never knew about Annabelle?”
“Wait.” Cat sudden
ly stood up. “You’re calling her Annabelle. Is that because that’s what I always called her? Or did you keep the name?”
“I kept it. Her name is Annabelle Meredith Weathers. I changed the middle name to be my mother’s.”
More tears fell.
“I didn’t know why it was important to you,” Patricia explained, “but you started calling our little girl Annabelle the moment you knew she was a girl. I’m guessing, now that I know Brody Hollister is her father, and that his mother’s name is Annabelle, that must be the reason.”
“I can’t believe she’s alive,” Cat whispered. “I’ve grieved for her for so long.”
“And I truly am sorry about that. If I’d known . . .”
“I know.”
They each listened to the other breathe for a moment, both in their own thoughts, before Patricia said, “She would like to meet you, Cat. I had to force her not to barge into your life two months ago when I first told her.”
“Is she happy?” Cat asked. “Has she had a good life?”
“She is happy. And I like to think I’ve given her a good life. Do you want to meet her? We’re heading back from our vacation on Friday. We could catch a flight to Maine.”
“You would do that for me?”
“I would do that for Annabelle.”
Cat paced the length of the porch as she took in the large grounds and the road off in the distance, and tried to get her mind to slow enough to think. She could meet her daughter. This week. Could she bring Annabelle here? The paparazzi had slowed, but they weren’t gone. They would have a field day if they found this out. “It’s a bit of a madhouse here,” she explained.
She didn’t care about the scandal it would cause, but about how it might impact her daughter.
“Then how about we meet in Portland?”
“Brody will want to meet her, too.”
“And I’m sure she’d love that.”
“She has a brother and sister,” Cat whispered.
“Let’s take it one day at a time, okay? Right now we’re thinking about Annabelle. She’s always wanted to meet her parents, so that’s what we’ll do first. She and I will fly in Friday night, and meet with you on Saturday. Does that sound okay?”
