by Laura Abbot
But then, a huge lump formed in his throat. He struggled to talk about Brooke, then Nicole and, ultimately, the accident. At that point his father reached across the table and grasped his hand in an iron grip. Brady fell silent after telling about the collision.
“I understand that kind of grief,” his father said.
When Brady looked into his father’s eyes, he knew he was hearing the truth.
“And after that?” Velda prompted.
It was almost six when Brady finally finished. Unbelievably, he’d found himself telling them about Nell and Abby, about the chance for a new life he’d walked away from.
“You have a history of turning your back, son. Any idea why?”
His brain buzzed and his chest went hollow. “No,” he said. But he did know. It wasn’t something he felt like sharing now with others. He reviewed his boyhood, his youth, the recent months. The answer lay before him. Clear. Uncompromising. He hadn’t felt worthy of love. Not after his mother died—and then Brooke and Nicole. He had convinced himself he deserved punishment.
Velda stood. “I better get us some supper. But before I do, I want to tell you something, Brady. I remember you as a teenager. You always felt things deeply and not always temperately. Your emotions were intense. I don’t imagine you’ve changed much. Take that intensity and turn it to good. Love your Nell and Abby.”
Brady pondered her advice. After leaving here all those years ago, he’d thought he could insulate himself from hurt. He’d let down his barricades with Brooke and Nicole. And then had come the accident followed by his self-inflicted emotional imprisonment. Until Nell. If he were to go back to Arkansas, it would have to be with openness and trust, and he didn’t know if that was possible.
His father, too, rose to his feet. When Brady looked into his eyes, he saw something astonishing. Approval. “Reckon we better phone Danny and get him over here,” he said.
“Yeah,” Brady said, clenching his hands. “I guess I have some explaining to do. I abandoned him.”
“He idolized you,” his father said quietly.
“I, uh, tried a coupla times to get in touch with him. He never responded.”
Velda arched an eyebrow. “Any wonder? He inherited that stubborn gene, too.”
Dale laid a hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Lucky thing, I guess, that it’s not too late. Right, son?”
Brady swallowed hard, then nodded, his voice lost somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.
NELL WAS LATE getting to her mother’s house for Lily’s birthday party. She’d had to stop at the store, then pick up Abby at Tonya’s.
Abby sat beside her in the front seat, cradling Lily’s wrapped gift. “How old is Aunt Lily anyway?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Yikes. I didn’t think she was that old.”
That old. Nell managed a bitter smile. At thirty-four, she, too, must be totally over the hill in her daughter’s estimation. “Next thing you know we’ll both be using walkers.”
Abby glanced up at her. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, honey. We must seem ancient to you.”
“I guess you can’t be too old if you and Brady could fall in love.”
What was it with the girl? She wouldn’t leave it alone. Almost daily she found a way to insinuate Brady’s name into the conversation. “Why do you keep talking about him?”
“I miss him, I guess.”
Nell pulled to the curb in front of her mother’s house and parked the car. “It’s unrealistic to think like that. Brady is gone.”
“But I just keep hoping—”
“What? That he’ll mysteriously reappear? That we’ll get back together?”
Head down, Abby studied the package in her lap.
“We have to move on, honey. I’ll be fine. I am fine.”
“Grandma doesn’t think so.”
Nell rolled her eyes. When would her family quit second-guessing her? “Could we please just get out of the car and go to the party?”
Abby shrugged. “I guess.”
All the way up the walk, Nell concentrated on reducing her pulse rate. This was supposed to be a festive occasion, she reminded herself.
“Darlings!” Her mother threw open the door and held out her arms in greeting. “We were worried when you were late.”
Nell grimaced. Worried about what? That she’d started drinking? That she’d been in an accident? “The grocery store was crowded. My shopping took longer than I thought.”
“Nell, is that you? At last?” Lily, dressed in a stunning mauve pantsuit, joined them in the hall. “I kept telling Mother you’d be right along.”
“Happy birthday,” Nell said, kissing her sister on the cheek.
Lily beamed, then dropped an arm around Abby’s shoulder. “And how’s my favorite niece? I understand you have a boyfriend. I want to hear all about him.”
They made their way into the living room, where Evan was sprawled on the carpet playing trucks with Chase. He looked up with a smile. “Hi, Nell, Abby.”
Abby added their gift to those stacked on the coffee table, then joined Chase and Evan on the floor.
“So what exciting things have you been doing on your birthday?” Nell inquired.
“Let’s see. The florist delivered roses from Evan about ten, then I met my book club for lunch and this afternoon I had the most divine massage.”
“Sounds heavenly.”
Narrowing her eyes, Stella studied Nell. “You could use a massage. You look tense. Stressed.”
“Now that you mention it,” Lily leaned closer, “you do look a bit pinched.”
A bit pinched? A line straight out of Jane Austen. “I’m fine,” Nell said.
“You haven’t heard from that Brady person?”
“No, Mother. I didn’t expect to.”
Lily intervened. “Mother, Nell doesn’t need this.”
Ignoring Lily, Stella laid a hand on Nell’s leg. “And you’re sure you’re all right with that?”
Nell tried to be fair. Her mother had every right to be concerned, just as she would be if Alan Voyle broke up with Abby. “No, but that’s the reality, like it or not. Aren’t you actually asking something else?”
“What, dear?”
Lily’s eyes rounded in sudden understanding.
“Whether I’ve been drowning my sorrows, so to speak.”
“Nell!” Stella covered her bosom with the flat of her hand. “Why, we never—”
“Yes, you have. But I’m beginning to understand what you’ve been telling me. It’s because you love me and want the best for me. I can’t argue with that.” She leaned forward and went on more calmly. “I need you to trust that I will persevere and remain sober because I want to. This is my problem and I’m the only one who can address it.
“We all know there will be difficult times. But, look. I made it through this episode with Brady without a drink. I don’t intend to let anybody down. Especially myself.”
“Oh, honey,” Stella whispered, her eyes shiny with tears.
“I simply have to take each day as it comes.”
Abby, who had clearly been eavesdropping, scooted across the floor and rested her head in Nell’s lap. “I’m proud of you, Mom.”
Lily looked fondly at Nell. “Me, too.”
Stella hesitated, then added her endorsement. “And Mother makes three.”
Nell ran her hand over Abby’s silky hair, the ball in her stomach dissolving. “Thank you. I feel better already.”
“We all do,” Lily said.
Stella stood and waved her arm at the birthday presents. “Well, for heaven’s sake, ladies, let’s get this celebration underway. Lily’s birthday and Nell’s new tomorrows.”
Then her mother winked at her, a gesture that included only her. Not Lily. Not Abby. A gesture that made Nell believe she’d finally gotten her point across—and was still, and always, loved.
BRADY HAD STAYED three days in Colorado before hitting the road. Now, headed tow
ard Arkansas, he had the leisure to reflect on his visit. It had not been an easy time. There had been too many years and too much history to overcome in one brief visit. Too many misunderstandings. Especially with Danny, who had seemed unable to give Brady the same benefit of the doubt his father had.
How could he have been so oblivious at the time to his brother’s sensitivity and grief? Had Brady thought he had a corner on the market?
Sure, Danny had been living with their grandparents during that last year, but why hadn’t he kept in better touch? Gone to see him? The kid had to have been scared shitless.
So how could he blame his brother for his lack of enthusiasm when he learned Brady had returned? Danny hadn’t been rude, exactly. Just indifferent. As if he didn’t trust Brady to maintain the relationship they’d started.
Hell, why should Danny trust him? Much as Brady hated to admit it, Nell had been right. He’d fed on his own bitterness and let far too many years pass without confronting himself and what had happened during that awful senior year. When Brooke had challenged him to face the past, he’d shut her out, just as he had anyone who’d ever questioned him. Until now.
The highway climbed steadily toward Vail Pass, and Brady idly wondered how far he could get today. How long before he reached Arkansas? The intervening miles stretched painfully in front of him. Miles he needed for some deep thinking.
What awaited him when he arrived? He had to be sure about his intentions before he approached Nell. This time he couldn’t question her.
Look what had happened because he’d failed to listen to his parents. But trusting Nell was different. It meant forgiving her and giving up his unfair association of her with the man responsible for the deaths of his wife and daughter. It meant living in the present, not the past.
He’d never seen her drunk and he didn’t want to. Ever. But he needed to be prepared for that eventuality—and for his role in supporting her sobriety. If he made a commitment to her, he would be in it for the long haul, warts and all.
By her honesty, she’d given him back his life. Was he willing to help do the same for her?
“C’MON, ABBY, just once around his block.”
Abby, astraddle her bicycle, threw Tonya a disgusted look. “What’re you gonna do if we see him?”
“Swoon.” Tonya sped off down the street.
Reluctantly, Abby followed, knowing she’d die of embarrassment if Mr. Sanders, their English teacher, spotted them. She had to admit he was adorable and way cool, but she didn’t understand why Tonya was wasting her time on somebody that old. Why didn’t she find someone her own age, like one of Alan’s friends?
Besides feeling geeky about Mr. Sanders, it was kinda sad being in this neighborhood. She couldn’t help remembering that day she’d come down this same street on her way to Brady’s condo. How nice he’d been. Kinda like a father.
Her mom had really, really liked him. She was trying to act brave now, but Abby could tell she was sad. Sorta like the light in her eyes was set on dim.
Ahead of her, Tonya pumped her fist and pointed toward a small house wedged between two three-story apartment buildings. It had all these cars in the front yard and looked like a hangout for college guys. But she guessed that’s sorta what Mr. Sanders was. He was a first-year teacher, just out of the U of A.
Loud stereo music boomed from an open window, but even going past slowly, they couldn’t see anyone. Tonya stopped at the corner, then shrugged when Abby drew alongside. “Crap. No stud spotting today.”
Abby gazed beyond her friend and saw in the distance the entrance to Brady’s condominium complex. It was getting dark, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to ride by. She could show Tonya where Brady had lived. “Follow me,” she said, pulling into the intersection ahead of Tonya.
“Where’re we going?” Tonya called, but Abby just kept pedaling toward the condominium, all the time feeling queasy with regret. He was never coming back.
She stopped at the edge of the lot, where Tonya caught up with her. “What’re you looking at, Abby?”
“There.” She pointed toward Brady’s unit. “That’s where my mother’s boyfriend lived.”
“He’s gone, though, right?”
Abby’s toes curled inside her sneakers. “Yeah,” she said quietly. Why was she about to cry? This was stupid. She hardly knew the man. It wasn’t like he had ever planned on being part of their family or anything. But she was convinced he’d really cared about her. She loved her dad, of course, but sometimes she felt like he didn’t know much about daughters. Not like Brady did. You could tell how much he’d loved Nicole.
“Hey, dorkess, what are we standin’ here for? I gotta get home.”
“Okay,” Abby said. She straddled her bike, then paused for one last look at the condo.
What she saw caused her to grip the handlebars so tightly her knuckles whitened. Oh, please, oh, please she found herself imploring, her breath coming in tiny gasps. Let it be him.
An Escalade had turned into the far entrance to the parking lot. Abby motioned Tonya to follow as she concealed herself behind a hedge.
“What are you doing?” Tonya demanded.
“Shh.” Abby narrowed her eyes, waiting to see if it could possibly be. The Escalade parked, then a man wearing a ball cap climbed out—a tall man with broad shoulders. Abby crossed her fingers, continuing her mantra, afraid to trust her eyes. What if she was wrong? He opened the tailgate, gathered some luggage and, unbelievably, made straight for the right condo unit.
“Omigod,” Abby breathed.
“What?”
“It’s him. Brady. He’s back.”
Tonya moved closer, squinting through the branches. “Wow,” she breathed. “For an old guy, he’s a hunk.”
They watched until he closed the front door and then slowly pedaled back the way they had come. Tonya tried to talk to her, ask her all these nosy questions, but Abby didn’t have anything to say.
Was he back for good? Or just coming to pick up some stuff he’d left?
Maybe it didn’t matter. The important thing was that he was back and that gave her mother a chance.
And a chance was better than nothing.
All the way home Abby plotted her strategy. She was just a kid, but this time she wasn’t going to mind her own business. Or was she? Maybe this was her business, too.
NELL SHOOK OUT the towels as she moved them from the washer to the dryer. Tearing off a sheet of fabric softener, she passed it under her nose before adding it to the load. The manufacturer had come darn close to the scent of fresh spring air.
Spring. Her favorite time of year. With fortitude and patience, in April she would get her seven-year chip. Few outside of AA had any understanding of the significance of these milestones. She was proud of each of her chips and, after her recent close call, had made a vow to relive those high points, which could be equally as motivating as the low moments.
Humming to herself as she turned on the dryer, Nell reflected on the change in her mother since the night of Lily’s party. She no longer prefaced comments with “Lily and I think…” and her recent phone calls had been chatty rather than thinly veiled inquisitions.
Nell turned to the laundry table and began folding the underwear she’d taken out of the dryer earlier, acknowledging the relief she felt now that things were back to normal, or whatever passed for normal. After Brady had left, she’d settled back into the routine of work, meetings and family. Maybe she’d only imagined that brief window of opportunity when she’d glimpsed a future that had included Brady. Even then, though, she had understood he wasn’t ready for commitment—not until he made some kind of peace with what had happened to his wife and daughter. And with his early years in Colorado about which he refused to speak. However, she’d been hopeful that with time…
Nell smoothed a half slip, then folded it in thirds. Part of what she’d loved about him was the very fact that he cared so deeply. There was nothing superficial or contrived about his emotions. He was a man c
apable of loving passionately.
Damn. She wished she hadn’t used that word with its painful reminders of warm, soft lips, exploring fingers and eager, aching flesh. She ran her hands over the slip, wondering if she ever would’ve dared to wear something exotic, tantalizing…maybe one of those see-through teddies or….
“Mom! You’ll never guess what!”
Nell started. She hadn’t even heard the front door. She grinned, wondering what late-breaking development in Abby’s life led to the mega-decibel volume of her voice.
“Where are you?” Abby’s exasperated tone was hard to miss.
“In the utility room.” Nell gathered the folded clothes to her chest and stepped into the kitchen.
Breathless, Abby stopped in the doorway, her face red from exertion, her eyes snapping with excitement. “I rode home as fast as I could. I couldn’t wait to tell you the news.”
“What news, honey?”
“He’s back!”
Had she missed something? Had Alan Voyle been on a trip? “Who? Alan?”
Abby spread her arms in triumph. “Duh, Mother. Brady!”
She clutched the laundry more tightly. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him, Mom. He didn’t see me, but I know it was him. He drove that same kind of car and went into that same building.”
Nell felt sick. She made it to the table, laid the clothes down and sank into a chair. He was here. In Fayetteville. But he hadn’t called. Hadn’t come by.
“Are you all right?” she could hear Abby asking.
“Yes,” she said, aware she was flat-out lying to her daughter.
Abby pulled a chair from the table and, drawing one foot up under her, sat down. “Don’t you see? Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Abby, calm down, it’s—”
“All you have to do is go see him. It’s simple.”
Nell wished with all her heart that she could view the world from such an idealized perspective. “No, I can’t. If he wants to see me, he’ll call.”
Abby blew the hair off her face. “Mo-ther. That’s so retro. It’s the twenty-first century. You don’t have to sit around waiting for a man.”
