“I’ll call you later,” he says with a smile.
“Later, alligator,” I reply with a wink. He laughs and waits until I’m safely inside my apartment before he leaves. I touch my lips.
“Dear God, what is he doing to me?” I ask my empty apartment once I’m inside.
Chapter Twenty-One
Grady
I look up at my mother’s apartment building. It looks like an impenetrable fortress. I shake out my muscles and roll my neck, the tension making it stiff. I’ve been putting this conversation off for far too long. I want to turn and walk away and pretend I don’t know something that will change her world, but I can’t. Emma was right. She needs to know, and I need to go talk to my half brother.
Mustering all the courage I have; I walk inside and go up to the penthouse. The doors open and I’m greeted by soft cello music. Mom learned for a role she played about ten years ago and loved it so much she kept up lessons. She’s actually pretty good at it.
I follow the music to the study where I find her, eyes closed as her body sways with the rhythm of the song. She looks so peaceful and the thought of what I have to do eats away at me.
I clear my throat and she opens her eyes as she brings the bow away from the cello. Her smile is warm, another stab at my heart.
“Hey,” I say softly as I shuffle my feet.
She pats the seat next to her. “What’s wrong? Come sit down. I know that face when I see it.”
I walk over and sit.
“Grady, out with it.” She sets the cello in a stand and turns to me, giving me her full attention.
“I need to tell you something, Mom. And it’s really hard to tell you this,” I admit.
She reaches forward and brushes my hair out of my face in a way only a mother can do, in a way she’s done a million other times since I was little.
“You can tell me anything, pumpkin. You know that.”
I nod. “I know…it’s just…this is different.”
She frowns. “You’re not in more trouble, are you? Something with the stalker?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” I say, shaking my head.
Her shoulders relax. “Then, let’s hear it.”
“I…remember Dad left me that box of stuff,” I start. She nods. “I was going through it about two years ago, and I found some notes in a journal. You guys weren’t getting along very well when I was little.”
“No, we weren’t. Like I said the other day, I honestly didn’t think our marriage would last, but somehow, we found our way through that period,” she agrees as she looks away as though remembering something.
“Did you ever think Dad was cheating on you? You said no the other day, but did you ever really think it?” I blurt out, wincing as the words leave my mouth.
Her gaze flies back to me. “I…” She pauses as though unsure how to answer. She looks down and laces her fingers together. “Yes,” she admits quietly before looking back up at me. She sighs. “I caught him cheating, that’s what caused the issue. You were little and I was stressed out. I wasn’t exactly being a great partner. Back then, postpartum depression wasn’t discussed like it is now. He started talking to some woman, someone he had met at a bar while he was training for a race. I saw him one day. I was going to surprise him, and he was kissing another woman. He came home. I threatened to leave with you. He said I was crazy. We had a giant fight and I left that night with you. I went to Grandma’s house. She’s the one that got me into counseling, and a few weeks later, she made Dad come over so we could talk. By then, I was on some meds and more myself. Anyhow, we decided to try and work it out. He cut ties with the woman, which was easier to do back then. She didn’t live near us. There was no social media and we just changed our numbers. We moved shortly after that and she never contacted us, at least not that I know.”
I swallow, the words are shocking to me.
“I’m sorry, I never told you that. I didn’t want to ruin the way you remembered Dad. It just seemed cruel.”
I reach over and grasp her arm. “I understand.”
She nods, patting my hand. “I’m glad you found out. It’s been a heavy burden to bear alone all these years.”
“I’m sure. Shit, Mom, I don’t even know how to say this now…” I pause again, searching for the right words, and when none come, I blurt out the truth. “I have a half brother.”
Her eyes widen and her hand flies to her mouth. “What?”
“That woman, Heidi Winters, had a son, Jason.”
Mom springs to her feet and paces to the other side of the room. “Who else knows about this?” she asks me.
“Me, you, the band, Emma, and the PI who found him.”
She stops and looks over at me. “Do you want to meet him?”
I bite my lip before speaking. “I wasn’t sure, but Emma made a good point when we spoke. What if he knows or finds out and goes to the press? If I go to him, if we are prepared, then we can control the potential media shitshow. We’d be in the driver’s seat.”
“Yes, yes. I understand that, but do you want to meet him?”
Her question is a valid one. It’s one I’ve been grappling with for weeks now. “I…think I do.”
She sits back down and pulls me into a giant hug. “Pumpkin, if you want to meet him, then you know I’ll support your decision.”
I relax into her hug, squeezing her back. “Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears at her undying support of me no matter what.
She kisses my cheek and pulls back. “Now, let’s call our publicists and figure out what to say, I mean if he wants to go public with it. I want us to have a plan in place for either outcome.”
I nod and follow her into the kitchen where she pours us each a much-needed glass of wine as we make the phone calls.
Emma
I smile as I review footage from my first documentary interview. It’s so good, I want to pinch myself. My phone buzzes and I look down to see a text from Grady. My smile turns into a giant grin.
Grady: I’m cooking for you tonight. Clear your schedule.
It’s been three weeks since our first date. After our brief breakup, if you can call it that, everything has been smooth sailing. I can’t help falling a little more in love with him each time we speak. He’s so much more than that bad-boy rocker I met at the gala.
Me: OK. What are you making me?
Grady: You’ll have to wait and see.
Me: So, I should start guessing now?
Grady: LOL
Me: Mexican?
Grady: Just wait.
Me: Italian?
Grady: You are a pain in the ass.
Me: It’s definitely American.
Grady: (shrugging emoji)
Me: No fair! What if it’s a food I hate?
Grady: Then I guess we’ll get takeout.
Me: Fine. It better be good though.
Grady: Wow, no pressure.
Me: (kissing emoji)
I put my phone down and go back to reviewing my interview.
I’m so engrossed in my work that the next time I look up it’s because there’s knocking at my door. I jump up and run to see that it’s Grady with a bag full of something.
Opening the door, I offer to take the bag.