The Good Father

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Brett was standing now, too. In the kitchen with his helmet under his arm.

  “Couples fight,” Jeff said. “It’s not right. It’s not okay. But it’s...normal.”

  Nodding, Brett remembered a particular fight he’d had with Ella. He’d told her that he’d never wanted a child of his own. That he’d only agreed to try because of her. He’d rejected his own baby while it was still in her womb.

  Because once that child had been a reality, it had hit him that he’d never be able to guarantee that he wasn’t his father. Ella was a strong woman. She could get out if he ever developed violent tendencies. But a child...someone who was forever biologically bound to him...a vulnerable, needy human being who couldn’t make that choice...

  But this wasn’t about him. This was about Jeff. A man who was the definition of gentle.

  “You want me to call her?” he asked now. He was going to talk to Chloe. No matter what Jeff wanted.

  His friends were in trouble.

  And unlike Jeff, Brett knew exactly where Jeff’s wife was staying.

  “She always liked you,” Jeff said now. “Would you mind talking to her? If that doesn’t put you in a bad position with Ella. The two of them, they’re more like sisters than sisters-in-law, you know.”

  “Ella’s the one who asked me to see you, to get involved in this. I hardly think she’d object to me trying to see if I can help.”

  “Okay, then.” Arms crossed, Jeff walked with him out the door. They looked over his bike. Talked again about a time or two they’d hit the open road. Talked about doing so again.

  If Jeff ever got a hold of another bike.

  And then Brett mounted his machine, determined, as he left his friend standing alone on his long, winding drive, surrounded by his meticulous yard and a home that spoke of success, that for as long as he was needed, Jeff was a priority.

  For all that the other man had done for him, it was the least Brett could do.

  * * *

  ELLA’S TEXT NOTIFIER sounded while she was scrubbing her toilet, part of her Sunday-morning cleaning routine. Chloe, who already had the rest of the apartment looking spotless, had taken Cody to the playground a few units down from them. In addition to their shopping and movie plans, they were going to be trying out a couple recipes that evening. Chloe wanted her opinion on their mass likability and was planning to invite the single mother she’d met earlier in the week to join them for dinner.

  Thinking the text was from work—her nurses had been instructed to text her if they lost any patients when she was off shift—and dreading what she would read but knowing there was nothing for her to do about the heartbreaking news, she finished what she was doing before she looked at her phone.

  The number wasn’t work. It wasn’t in her contacts. But she recognized it.

  Damn him. How was she supposed to succeed in keeping him completely out of her day if he was going to text her like this?

  Knowing she was being irrational, Ella opened the message she’d been waiting all day yesterday to see. The same two questions in her mind now that had occupied a good part of her Saturday. Had he contacted Jeff, and how had it gone?

  Going to call Chloe today.

  She’d asked him to speak with Jeff. Thinking he’d take care of her brother, while she dealt with Chloe.

  Like maybe between the two of them, they could do this good thing. Save a man. A marriage. A life.

  I’ll talk to her.

  Her fingers moved quickly across the small keyboard.

  I have her number.

  More speed texting.

  I didn’t tell her yet that I’ve been in touch with you.

  He had to understand that Chloe was vulnerable at the moment. Ella was having a hard enough time keeping her sister-in-law emotionally strong without Brett coming at her.

  Let me know when she knows.

  She’d asked for his help. Needed his help.

  Okay, she wanted his help. This was Chloe and Jeff they were dealing with. They’d been family. Close.

  The happiest years of her life...

  Will do.

  She typed. And then she went to find Chloe.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “YOU’RE SURE ABOUT THIS?” Chloe, in pressed navy linen slacks and a white contoured three-quarter-sleeved blouse, smiled at her son in his car seat as Ella stopped at a red light and then continued, “You don’t have to come with me, Ella. I can meet Brett on my own.”

  Even knowing Brett, she’d been surprised by the speed with which he’d arranged this in-person meeting with Chloe. She’d spoken with Chloe, texted him as agreed, and within an hour they’d had dinner plans with him.

  They were on their way to Uncle Bob’s. Chloe’s choice. Because Cody liked sitting in his high chair and looking out the window at the beach. He also liked the chicken fingers and French fries, and the place was loaded with families with small children so that if there was an outburst, other diners’ experiences wouldn’t be immediately ruined.

  “If you’d rather do this alone, I’m happy to drop you off. Or you can take me home and you take the car. I’ve told you repeatedly, you’re welcome to the car anytime you want it. It’s not like I need it when I’m at work.”

  They’d left Chloe’s car in Palm Desert. Because they’d been in a hurry to get her packed up and out of there before Jeff came home. And Chloe had been too upset to drive. The plan was to go back and get it.

  In the meantime, Chloe was taking cabs or a bus anytime she had to go anywhere.

  As soon as things calmed down and Jeff agreed to get help. Which was where Brett came in.

  Chloe’s silence drew Ella’s gaze. “It’s okay, Chlo. If you want to go alone, it’s not going to hurt my feelings. I want to help in any way I can. Not take over your life.”

  The puppy-dog look in the brown eyes that turned on her softened Ella’s heart and it was already mush where Chloe was concerned. The Chloe she knew had always emanated confidence. Strength.

  “This is where it gets tough, you know?” Chloe said as a horn honked behind Ella and she drove on through the now-green light. “Am I selfish for wanting you with me? Knowing how hard you had to fight to get Brett out of your system? Knowing how much he hurt you? Or is this my chance to help you take the final step in getting over him? And do I help you help me by relying on you? Or am I being weak and dependent if I lean on you?”

  Flashing her sister-in-law a grin, Ella said, “I think the fact that you’re asking those questions means you’re right on track.”

  “Then I want you with me.”

  The next time Ella glanced over, Chloe smiled at her.

  They were going to be just fine, the two of them.

  * * *

  PREPARED FOR ELLA’S propensity to be early—based on their previous meeting, not on the years they’d spent together—Brett pulled into Uncle Bob’s fifteen minutes before the scheduled time. Ella wouldn’t have known that the place had been his favorite restaurant as a kid.

  Because he hadn’t told her.

  He didn’t spend much time thinking about the first ten or so years of his life. Because they only made the next eight years seem that much worse.

  There were already kids digging around in the outdoor sandbox just off the dining room—a play area of sorts before such things became popular in modern-day fast-food restaurants.

  Ella and Chloe weren’t there yet. He was offered a table while he waited for them, but declined. He was standing outside when he saw her car pull into the lot.

  He hadn’t seen Chloe in more than four years.

  And he was about to meet his godson for the first time. Jeff’s son.

  Ella’s nephew. Who was two years younger than her own child would have been.

  Standing there in tan pants, a dark polo shirt and loafers, Brett wasn’t nervous. He was just ready to get on with it. He’d played nine holes of golf followed by a business cocktail and was ready to spend a few hours at his desk at home before he started a n
ew work week.

  Plus, he wanted to touch base with Jeff. Living alone didn’t suit the other man as well as it did Brett.

  The car parked. He walked toward it, intending to get the first awkward moment over with in the parking lot, rather than in front of curious restaurant staff and patrons.

  The passenger door opened, and a woman got out. Dark-haired. Slender and long legged. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on.

  Brett’s arms went around her. He thought to disentangle himself. Felt her lips brush his neck, and then she stood back, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Brett. Thank you for doing this.”

  Her words made him uncomfortable. Clearly, Ella had spoken to her. She probably thought he was helping Jeff come to terms with his perceived issues.

  Problem was, Brett wasn’t yet convinced that Chloe wasn’t the one with issues. Even more so after her effusive display of affection.

  Four years ago a hug and kiss greeting would have been somewhat normal, but...

  His thoughts were cut short as he heard Ella say, “Cody, this is your uncle Brett...”

  Turning, he saw his ex-wife standing there with a sandy-haired toddler, dressed in blue pants and a white shirt just like his mama, on her hip.

  “Unca?” Cody, with both hands at his chest, turned to stare up at Ella.

  “Uncle Brett,” she said.

  He wasn’t. Not anymore. Technically, never had been, since the divorce happened before Cody was even conceived.

  But he wasn’t going to split hairs.

  “Hey, young man,” he said. He touched the boy’s cheek. Ran his hand over the toddler’s head. With those freckles, that hair, he looked like Jeff.

  “Uh-uh. I boy.” Cody shook his head. But he was gazing at Brett now with open curiosity.

  “Uncle Brett knows Daddy,” Chloe said. “They were friends in school.”

  Another curious stare and then Cody glanced between Ella and his mother. “Eat?”

  And that was that.

  Awkward moment over.

  Brett had survived.

  * * *

  ELLA ENDED UP sitting next to Brett. She’d planned it differently. But Chloe chose the chair across from him, which made sense. And she suggested to the hostess that Cody’s high chair be placed next to her—across from Ella—which also made sense since she’d want to tend to her son.

  And Ella could still entertain him while the other two were talking.

  Which put her next to Brett. Close enough that she had to inhale that delicious aftershave with every breath she took. So close she could feel the heat of his leg, the brush of his arm...

  Too close to not react to him. Physically. And when that happened her mind got confused.

  She heard Chloe order for them. A shared salad. She asked for iced tea. She put her napkin in her lap.

  And tried to focus on her nephew.

  The man at her side might have taken permanent residence in her heart, but she did not want him in her life.

  Not anymore.

  He couldn’t give her what she needed. Didn’t want the kind of relationship she wanted.

  He’d hurt her too badly, and she’d never trust him not to do so again.

  * * *

  SUCCESS IN LIFE was all about the plan. Whatever the goal, it started with the plan.

  Brett ordered a burger, his standard order as a kid, and tried not to stare at the little guy across the table—imagining Jeff with him, the gentleness with which his friend would explain exactly why he couldn’t get down out of his high chair. And why he couldn’t drink all of his milk before his dinner.

  Chloe did a fine job in Jeff’s absence.

  But Cody’s dad was missing out on key time in his son’s life. Which gave Brett a sense of urgency he hadn’t had that morning.

  And he’d already been damned motivated.

  “So...how’s Jeff?” Chloe asked as soon as their food was delivered, and she had Cody settled with his chicken fingers, fries and ketchup.

  “Good.” The burger tasted just as good as he’d remembered. He hadn’t expected it to.

  “Of course, it’s hard to tell over the phone,” she said, fork in hand, though she had yet to take her first bite.

  “I spent last night with him.”

  “Here?” Used to reading people, Brett was a bit disconcerted by the mixture of fear and delight in Chloe’s expression. “Jeff’s in town?”

  “No. Ella told me that he doesn’t know where you are. I wouldn’t bring him here and risk the possibility of him seeing you.”

  Santa Raquel wasn’t that small, but fate had a way of playing its own hand in spite of the cards you thought you held.

  “You spent the night at our house?” Another mixture of emotions that complicated things. Or added weight to Jeff’s assumption that his wife was suffering from some latent hormonal imbalance.

  He was going to have to approach that possibility. As soon as he figured out how to do so without alienating either of the women.

  “I did,” he said, taking another bite of burger and chasing it with a fry. It wasn’t peanut butter and bacon, but it was as good. “He took me for a hundred bucks at the pool table, we had a couple beers and we talked.”

  “What did he say about me?”

  “That he misses you.”

  “That’s all? Nothing else? Where did he say I was?” Without breaking her gaze from Brett, she reached over to scoot a chicken finger away from the edge of the table where Cody had left it.

  “He told me the truth. That he doesn’t know. And that he’s respecting your wishes not to look for you, or alert anyone that you’ve left him.”

  “I haven’t!”

  A look passed between Chloe and Ella, and then Chloe said, “I’m not leaving Jeff for good. I love him. I just have to stay away until he can admit that he has a problem and gets some help. It’s the only way I can help him. I’ve tried talking to him. I’ve accepted his apologies and tried to make his home exactly as he needs it to be, but it’s not enough, Brett. As I’m sure you understand.”

  Because he’d grown up in an abusive environment, she meant. Or maybe she was referring to the fact that he’d founded a shelter for victims of domestic violence.

  Which reminded him. “I heard that you’re going to be helping them out at the Stand,” he said. A great idea as far as he was concerned. Chloe had not only majored in home economics in college, but she was a culinary-arts-school graduate, as well.

  Besides, Brett had tasted her cooking.

  “Yeah.” She took her first bite of salad. “I met Lila yesterday. She’s a great find, Brett. You chose well.”

  The compliment rolled past him. He wasn’t the one who’d conducted interviews. He’d just read reports. His one condition on founding the shelter, his one completely selfish mandate, was that he remain anonymous. He did not feel fit to be a spokesperson for the cause. Or in any way trained to help victims.

  He didn’t want their gratitude.

  Because he didn’t feel worthy of it.

  He had his strengths. The things he was good at. And those were the things to which he dedicated his life.

  “I’m just glad that you’re willing to help out while you’re here,” he said. “They’re very lucky to have you.” And Chloe knew, as did Ella, that no one at the Stand knew that Brett was their benefactor.

  He’d had a text that morning, informing him of the personnel addition. His mother kept herself fully abreast of every aspect of her responsibilities where he was concerned. And kept him well informed.

  He couldn’t fault her for that.

  Or for much else, either, truth be told. Through years of nursing her terminally ill daughter, while also bearing her husband’s mood swings, the drinking, the lost income and then the beatings, the woman had endured far more than any human being should ever have to.

  If he got frustrated with her silence, that was on him.

  Cody started talking about the sandbo
x again, and Ella, who’d only eaten a quarter of her meal, offered to take him outside to play for a few minutes.

  The air felt chilled as she left his side, but Brett was glad for her to go. He’d been so busy trying to keep himself immune to her that her presence was interfering with his ability to form a plan.

  Chloe put down her fork the second her son was out of earshot. “Did you talk to Jeff about...his issue?” Her long, dark hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned toward him, and she pushed it back.

  “I asked him what he thought the issue was.” Brett wasn’t going to lie. But aside from that, he’d do what it took to make this right.

  “And? Did he admit to getting angry?”

  “He told me that he’s said some things that he regrets. He takes full accountability for coming home tensed up from work and taking it out on you.”

  “He said that?” Her eyes opened wide. “Or did you put the words in his mouth?”

  “I didn’t know them to put them there. He just told me what happened the night before you left. Alluded to the fact that it wasn’t the first time he’d brought his work home with him in a negative way.”

  But who didn’t have a bad mood now and then? When people lived together there were bound to be times when one or the other was irritable. Short-tempered. Angry. None of that added up to abuse. Not even close.

  “He told you about me standing in the doorway and him pushing through it?”

  “Yes.”

  Tears still glistening through the hope he read in her gaze, Chloe sat there watching him. As though she was waiting for something.

  It was time for his plan.

  And he didn’t have one.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NEVER IN A million years would Ella have seen herself waving goodbye to Chloe, who was driving off in her car, while she stood in the parking lot of Uncle Bob’s with Brett. But here she was.

  Never in a million years would she have expected him to ask her to stay behind for a few minutes, or to offer to take her home afterward. But he had.

  The grin on Chloe’s face made it only too obvious that her sister-in-law thought Brett’s interest in Ella was personal.