“Oh, Lu.” Her voice is soft, almost remorseful. “In the beginning, I gave him a chance. But the moment I saw the change in you . . . I knew.”
“What do you mean you knew?” My fingers play with the cross charm hanging from my necklace.
“I have been there, Lu.” Her voice is only a whisper, one that has hurt behind it.
“Been where, Mama?”
“Before I met your daddy, there was Albert. And he was just like Todd.”
“Mama, what are you saying?”
“You don’t think I saw the bruises? Then the broken arm and the turtlenecks. It started adding up.”
“H-how . . . I mean, why didn’t you . . .” A tear rolls down my cheek.
“If I had asked you, you would have denied it. I certainly did when my friends asked me about Albert.” She clears her throat. “I had Drake look into Todd for me.”
So she’s the reason Drake kept a close eye on Todd. I should be mad, but her past justifies her reasons.
“I’m sorry you went through that.” The coffee I’m sipping is no longer satisfying. “I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t know. That’s not something we would talk about over Sunday dinner.” She laughs and I can hear a sniffle. “Then your daddy came out of nowhere and was an absolute gentleman. At first, I didn’t know how to act. I was always on guard around him. He was too good to be true and still is.”
“Daddy is something special,” I confirm, letting out a fortifying breath.
“Listen, honey, I know you moved out there to find yourself again. I understand that more than you know. And although your daddy helped me become whole again, I still had to see a professional.”
“I’m attending group meetings here and I did see a therapist. I’m okay now, Mama. Todd’s out of my life,” I reassure her.
“The day Drake threw that son-of-a-bitch in jail was one of the happiest days of my life. I’m just sorry that I didn’t step in earlier.”
“Oh, Mama.” Absolution overwhelms me as if it has lifted a weight off my shoulders.
“Although I want you close to me, I understand why you left. It’s a healing process. A way to build yourself up and find that courage I know is there. I did the same when I left Texas to move far away from Albert.”
“What ever happened to him?”
“I heard he overdosed, and someone found his dead body in an alley.”
“Well, at least Todd is in jail for a while.”
“Why didn’t you tell me or anyone?” Mama asks.
Another tear falls and my voice cracks. “I couldn’t . . . just like you said, it’s not something I would bring up at Sunday dinner.”
“I feel like a terrible mother.”
“No, Mama, you’re not. It was all me. When Todd first hit me, I was in total shock. He apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again. Then I got scared to leave him when he made threats toward you and Dax. I know I should have said something, but I thought I was protecting my family.”
“Oh, my sweet baby girl.”
“As much as I don’t want to say it, California has been good to me.”
She clears her throat. “It sounds like you are getting back to your old self. And how’s Sydney?”
“She’s great, and she’s been amazing in helping me put myself back together.”
“Well, that’s good. You tell Syd that I owe her one of my famous chicken pot pies if she ever makes it back to Kansas.” Mama laughs. “Now, tell me about your corner office.”
“I don’t start until Monday, but I’m sure it’s just a desk and a long draft table. But what I can tell you is I will work at a very prestigious company and a few of the clients are high-profile celebrities.”
“Well, don’t keep me waiting . . . do tell. Will you get to meet Tom Selleck?”
Feeling better after I spoke to Mama, I figure it’s time for me to work on my car. If I don’t, I will have to depend on another means of transportation to get to work on Monday. As I exit my front door, I see there’s a note on my Jeep.
I looked under your hood . . . I mean your Jeep’s hood. You were right about the battery. I hope you don’t mind that I replaced it for you. If you need anything else, hot cocoa, banana bread, an escort home, call me. See you Friday. ~B
My smile is automatic as I tuck my lips under my teeth. Brody. I flip the paper over. He left his phone number, so I send him a text.
Me: Hi, Brody. It’s me, Dee.
Brody: Good morning, Kansas.
Me: Thank you for fixing Duke. How much do I owe you?
Brody: Just the date on Friday.
Me: You bamboozled me. Now I really can’t say no.
Brody: And here I thought my good looks and charm was good enough.
Me: Perhaps. Thanks again.
Brody: The pleasure was all mine. See you at
Tawney’s on Friday, Dorothy.
I have to give him credit. This is one way to make sure I show up.
Chapter Eight
Brody
“Goddamn it!” The door sticks, making me wonder when the last time someone opened it. A shove of my shoulder against the door one last time, and it swings open. I look at the rusted hinges and the wood. “I need to fix this door.”
A musty smell dances in the air and dust bunnies skirt along the baseboards. I flick the light switch and the chandelier lights up above me.
“At least Avery’s been paying the electricity bill.”
I think back to what Dee said last night about a well-lit house. It’s welcoming. I look around my old house and it is the complete opposite of anything warm and inviting.
It’s eerie being here, yet nostalgic. I close my eyes. I feel her presence and can almost smell a hint of Mom’s perfume. Gardenias were her favorite flower.
Opening my eyes, I visualize Mom on the steps with Avery putting a Band-Aid on her knee when she fell off her new bike. I see myself slide across the wooden floors through the foyer with my white socks. Mom hated when I did that. The bottoms of my socks would turn black, and she could never get them white again, even after several washes. And the times my parents sat by the fireplace holding hands, Mom reading a romance novel while Dad read the paper, and I played Candyland with Avery on the coffee table.
As I move further into the house, the frames on the wall are a slideshow of our lives together. Mom and Dad’s wedding day. Me, when I was seven holding Avery’s hand by the water. Then a photo of all of us, just before everything took a dive.
I move through the family room and out the French doors, I breathe in the ocean breeze. Two lounge chairs rest on the weathered, uneven wooden patio that still has splattered blue and white paint on it. The makeshift path Dad paved for us so we would have an easier access to the beach appears overgrown.
I stare out to the canvas in front of me—blue, cloudy sky and waves crashing on the sand. My phone rings and pulls me from my thoughts. I roll my eyes when her name and face appear on the screen.