Axl hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Yeah. I was thinking we look for him this week. Low key. Just us guys.”
Jayden nodded. “Sounds good. Can you make the time?”
Axl shrugged. “I don’t know why they call it crunch. Crunch is basically our normal. I’ll make it work.”
“I’ll start reaching out to some friends of his I know.”
“Cool. Sawyer is going to keep notes on it all, so make sure to check in with him with whatever you find out.”
“Will do.”
Guilt gnawed at Jayden.
His twin was missing and it was their younger brothers heading up the search.
In a way, Jayden felt like this was how it had to be. Asher would only double down on hiding if Jayden were involved. Asher always responded better to the others. Which sucked.
They were twins.
They were supposed to be close.
And yet, these days they felt like strangers.
Dinner was a loud affair as usual, and eventually Jayden was able to relax a bit.
Toward the end of dinner, his phone chimed with an incoming message. Despite the cell phone ban during meals, he snuck it out and glanced at the text preview.
It was a message.
From Brandi.
Busy later?
Hell no.
“Mom, Jayden has his phone out,” Maddox said.
“Jayden does.” He wiped his mouth. “But Jayden also has to leave. If you all want to know, the text says, busy later?”
“Something important happen?” Mom tilted her head in that expectant way she had.
Jayden got up and circled the table to press a kiss to her cheek.
“I’m going over to see Brandi for a little bit.”
“When do I get to meet her?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know.”
Jayden scooped up the dirty dishes and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen, where he scraped and rinsed off plates. That done, he escaped out the back door rather than run the gauntlet through the dining room again.
Half an hour later, Jayden pulled up behind Brandi’s truck at the duplex. The garage door was open and Brandi sat on the concrete facing one of the hutch bases.
“You know you could have replied,” she called out as he approached.
Jayden winced. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t exactly paused for things like texting her back.
“Sometimes it’s tough getting out of my parent’s place,” he said by way of an apology.
Brandi looked up at him. Her hair was pulled up and she wore cropped black leggings with a bright pink tank top.
Pink.
It was a good color for her.
“Hi,” she said, this time without the annoyance.
He crouched next to her. “How you doing?”
Brandi leaned toward him, wrapped her arms around him as much as she could and squeezed.
“Better now,” she mumbled.
Jayden gathered her to him and held her.
There had been a time when he wanted to know his biological father, but that had passed. He wasn’t particularly interested in his mother, either. Sometimes he wondered if that made him cold. Only there was his family. The people who wanted him. They filled those spots. His life was full.
Perhaps that was the difference?
“Was there something you needed a man’s strength for?” he asked.
Brandi laughed and smacked his arm. He leaned back and she smiled at him, most of the strain gone now. “Oh shut up, you. I was actually hoping to get another pair of eyes on stuff.”
“Stuff?”
She pushed to her feet and brushed off her hands. “Yeah. I guess I got all up in my feelings earlier. I had Nicole help me write a reply to Vinaypaul. But then I got all emotional. We were picking up some , so I bought these.”
Brandi held up two cards, each with a strong wedding feel to them in swirling script, lacey details and glitter.
He straightened and took them from her. “Anniversary cards for...?”
“My grandparents.” She rolled her eyes. “And my mother. She got married on the same day as Grandma and Grandpa, so I can’t really send them a card without sending her one, too.”
It was a simple gesture, and yet as he understood it she’d cut off all communication when she was nineteen.
“Have you ever done this before? Send them a card?” he asked.
“No.” Brandi leaned against the cabinet. “Is this a bad idea? Am I just being emotional?”
“I don’t think anyone can answer that for you. Does Nicole’s family still live down the street?”
She shook her head. “No, they moved a few years back. Nicole still talks to her sisters. Her parents will speak to her on birthdays and holidays, but that’s it, really. Our families were never close.”
Jayden looked into her troubled eyes. “What do you want to do?”
“I want things to be easy. I don’t want a simple thing like a card to be such a big deal.”
“Well, maybe the next one can be that. But the first one is going to be a big deal.” He handed the cards back to her. “What does your gut tell you to do?”
“To do it.” She didn’t look happy about the answer. “What do I say?”
“Keep it simple.”
Brandi placed the cards on the smooth surface of the hutch and spread them open, staring at the printed words and all the blank space.
Jayden pulled a pen from his pocket and offered it to her.
She took it and tapped the end on the wood a few times. Then she started writing. Not much, just a few lines. But it was a start. One he hoped would bring her the peace she so desired.
“Do I give them my phone number?” she asked.
“Do you want an open line of communication? Have they had that from you before?”
Brandi shook her head.
Radio silence for nine years.
Jayden felt a dull, phantom pain in his chest.
Time healed wounds, but they never went away entirely.
She jotted down her phone number on the card for her grandparents. He noticed that card had several lines of text, where the one for her mother contained only one line.
“Do you want to take those to the post office now?” he asked.
Brandi nodded.
“Would you like for me to take you?”
She sighed and looked at him. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“I’d just like to do it before I change my mind and stick with being stubborn.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” He reached out and took her hand. “Come on.”
Hand in hand, they walked to his car. He opened the passenger side and held the door for her. A creaking sound from the house made him glance that way. Nicole leaned out and smiled at him. He waved at her and shut Brandi’s door.
“We’ll be right back,” he called out.
“Take your time. I’ll close the garage.” Nicole smacked a switch and the garage door inched down.
Possibly the last thing he’d expected from this weekend was to come out of it on good terms with Nicole. That wasn’t as important as it had been a week ago. But it was still nice.
Jayden got behind the wheel and grabbed his phone, looking for the closest post office.
“Thanks,” Brandi mumbled.
“Thank you for including me.” He looked up from his phone. “I hope you know you can rely on me.”
“Good, because I have an email I would like you to look over.”
“To your—Paul?”
“My Paul?” She laughed. “Yeah. I can’t find the balance of saying way too much or nothing at all. What am I even supposed to say?”
“No idea. There isn’t a guidebook for something like this.”
She groaned. “I wish there was.”
“This is us.” He pulled the wrong way into the drop off lane of the post office so that the blue box was on Brandi’s side.
She looked at him, the
n the two envelopes.
“Here goes,” she muttered and shoved the cards into the slot.
It was done.
Jayden reached over and took her hand. She held on tight once more while staring at the blue flap. Was she wishing she could take it back? Snatch the letter out of the belly of that thing and go home?
“Sometimes I think hope is the most dangerous thing.” She turned her face toward him and leaned her head back against the seat rest. “I’m okay so long as I don’t hope to hear from them. They’ve had nine years. Why does part of me still hope they want me?”
Her voice broke at the end and a fat tear rolled down her cheek.
That was all it took to break him. Totally and completely.
“Come here,” he managed to say around the lump in his throat.
Jayden knew that feeling. Despite his mother sitting him and Asher down and telling them she couldn’t hold it together anymore, both of them had struggled with abandonment for years. It still got to him every now and then.
What must it be like for her?
“Thank you,” Brandi whispered.
Jayden closed his eyes.
He’d liked being called on. It had made him feel important to her. But now, holding her, he realized this went deeper. Some part of Brandi had wanted him here more than anyone else. He just had to hold on to that part of her, nurture it, and maybe someday she wouldn’t feel alone anymore. Because she had him. The family she’d chosen.
Day 11: Wednesday
Brandi breathed a sigh as the two other girls in the office left for an early lunch.
She was alone.
Blissfully alone.
She slumped in her chair. Her brain seemed to buzz from the silence. It felt so good to have a moment without the constant back and forth. Most days it energized her, but right now Brandi was at her limit. She couldn’t take any more.
It felt like everything was nonstop. Just one thing after another ever since she got the DNA results.
She dropped the legal pad on her desk and lifted her hair up off her neck. The AC was being funny again. She would have to get after the guys about fixing it. Lord knew she couldn’t take on a fourth job and just do it herself.
Brandi glanced down the hall at Mr. Rice’s closed door. He hadn’t pulled her in to talk about the future yet. Like everyone else, he was running behind.
She reached into her desk drawer and tapped her phone screen.
No new messages from Jayden.
They’d agreed to cut back on texting during work hours. She’d been stressed about work and her phone and him. Then Jayden confessed to her that he’d done less than he should have at work because he kept waiting to hear from her. So they were no longer texting while working, unless there was an emergency. Granted, knowing she wouldn’t hear from him didn’t stop her from occasionally checking her phone. It did help keep her mind at ease knowing he was there, just as anxious to talk to her as she was to him.
What the hell was going on with them?
Another front where she had little to no clue what was going on.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
Nicole hadn’t just been understanding about the whole mess, she was enthusiastic. Heck, Brandi was working out in the garage just so she could stop hearing comments about how her whole not dating stint was at an end since she’d found her bio-dad. Nicole didn’t get that this was just the first step. Besides, it wasn’t even the step she was ready for.
This whole time Brandi had assumed her father was Hispanic or Latin. Having that rug pulled out from under her was strange. Part of her was relieved. Another part of her ashamed at her past behavior. She was wary of both new men in her life. Everything felt like work.
An email notification popped up on her phone while she was still zoned out staring at it.
Most email she got on her phone was junk. But not all of it.
She tapped the notification and an email opened.
It was from Vinaypaul.
She stopped breathing. It felt as though every cell in her body froze.
He’d finally replied to her.
Brandi reached for her desk phone before she remembered that Nicole had meetings most of today. She wasn’t free. Shoot.
Jayden was the other person she’d want to talk to, but she couldn’t. For one, that would be completely pulling him away from work mid-morning. And two, she didn’t know the direct line to Jayden’s office.
She didn’t want to examine her disappointment too much for fear of what it would tell her about who she really wanted to talk to.
What was she thinking? She should go ahead and read it. Find out more about this man who very well might be her father.
“Hey, Brandi? Can you come here?” Mr. Rice called out.
Brandi jerked her hand away from her phone.
“On my way.” She shoved the phone into her pocket, grabbed a notepad and headed for his office.
She did her best to collect her thoughts and compose herself on the short walk into the corner office of the one story building where they housed the stationary part of the business.
Mr. Rice stood at his desk. She’d helped put the thing together. It could be lifted to standing height or down to sitting. It even tilted and had lights that would shine through what you thought was a solid surface. It was the most ridiculously overpriced piece of furniture she’d ever seen. And she kind of wanted one herself.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
Mr. Rice’s head came up and he frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing is wrong,” she stammered.
He pointed at the chair that was cleared for her. “Don’t make me call my wife.”
Brandi hunched her shoulders and plopped down. “What is with you threatening me with your wife all the time now?”
“I do it because I care.” He grabbed his rolling desk chair and pulled it around to the side.
“Can’t we just focus on work?”
“Is it more guy stuff? Whatever is bothering you will impact your work. Do you need time to deal with it?”
“Why are you always trying to get me out of the office?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No. I value your role on this team. I want to keep you.” He chuckled. “If you tell me it’s nothing I’ll drop it.”
She wanted so badly to push this under the rug. But maybe Mr. Rice was the right person to talk to. He was a father, after all.
Brandi sighed and slumped in her chair. “I might have found my biological father that I’ve never met and who probably didn’t know I existed before a few days ago.”
Mr. Rice’s eyes went round and his lips parted. “Your father? You found him?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. You never really talk about your family.”
“Oh. Well, there’s not much to tell. They aren’t in the picture.”
“But your father is now all of a sudden.” He propped his chin on his hand and studied her. “Wow. How are you doing with all this?”
“Not the best. He sent me a short note to reach out when I was ready. I sent him an email and he just replied.”
“What did he say?”
“I haven’t looked at it. I’m too nervous.”
“Wow, Brandi. This is—huge. You should read it. Take lunch. Take the afternoon.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s morning. And you’ve already given me more time off than you can afford. I’m doing the job of three people, remember?”
“Don’t I know it? You should still take the day. This is big.”
“I literally cannot. There is too much work to do.”
Mr. Rice shook his head. “But this is your family. Your father. You only get one of those. This is more important than work.”
Brandi shifted in her seat. The Rices were the kind of work hard play hard people that resonated with her. Maybe she should follow his lead on this? He was a father. He knew what a healthy f
amily was. And he knew her.
She pressed her hip against the arm rest, feeling her phone against her thigh a little more. “Would you mind if I read it in here? I just don’t want—”
“Say no more. Want me to leave?”
“Stay. Please?”
He nodded his head.
She pulled out her phone and once more tapped her notifications and brought up the message.
Brandi blew out a breath and scrolled down past the header.
She was met by a photograph of a man with a round face and a generous smile. He made her think of a cherub at first glance. Then the other details filtered through.
He wore a black turban. From what she’d read and understood, it was common for Sikh men. His jaw line was covered in salt and pepper stubble and—
“Sweet Jesus, my father has a mustache.” She turned the phone toward Mr. Rice. “That is a curly mustache. He has a mustache.”
“Well now, that’s one impressive stache.” Mr. Rice edged closer, peering at the picture. “I see the resemblance though.”
“What?” Brandi started. She hadn’t seen herself in the picture at all.
“Yeah.” Mr. Rice pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and used it to point at the smile lines. “You have his smile. Your left cheek creases just a bit more, exactly like his does. And that’s his nose for sure. Look at that little V shape right here?”
“Huh.” Brandi peered at Vinaypaul’s nose, then touched her own.
“Even your coloring is in the same palette.”
She relaxed back into the chair and studied the picture of her father.
He looked so happy. Like he was a nice guy.
Below the image was text.
“Dear Brandi. It was so nice to hear from you. I look forward to learning more about you and your life. I’d love to talk to you in person over the internet if you’re comfortable. And he included a bunch of different ways to contact him.”
“Where is he?” Mr. Rice asked.
“India.”
“That’s twelve hours ahead of us, so it’s like nine thirty at night. You should call him now.”
“What? And say what?”
“Whatever you’ve been wanting to ask him. Whatever you have ever wanted to say, do it.” Mr. Rice bowed his head for a moment. “You might not know this, but we had another brother. He was the oldest out of all of us. I was just young enough he never wanted anything to do with me, but I looked up to him. Man, he was so cool...”
The Wrong Perfect Match (Fullilove in the House Book 1) Page 19
