He cupped my hand in his and placed the pills in my palm. "Here. Take three."
I sat up, my movements slow and careful so I didn't jostle my aching head. I placed the pills in my mouth and took the glass of water my father held out. Once I swallowed them, Dad stuck a pillow where I'd been laying moments before and helped me ease back down.
Then he covered my forehead and my eyes with the cool, wet cloth. It felt heavenly.
"So what brought this on?" he asked.
I didn't answer at first because I wasn't sure what Brody may have told my parents. And I didn't want my dad to be mad at Brody. Yes, Brody had made a mistake, but he and I had worked it out and I didn't want my parents to hold a grudge. Not that they tended to do that, but my dad was especially protective of me and I wasn't sure how he might handle it.
"Cam," he prompted.
"Brody and I had a little bit of a..." I trailed off, searching for the right word to describe what had happened.
"Break up?" my father asked, his voice bland.
"Sort of." I hesitated. "He did something that hurt me badly. He had reasons I can understand, but he didn't talk to me about any of it first. He apologized but he's in a bit of situation right now and we can't really spend any time together."
"You mean the mess with his ex?"
"Yeah. She threatened to ruin me financially and she was winding up to throw the first punch when he gave in to what she wanted."
"And what did she want?"
"Me out of his life. And Jacks' life."
"So he acquiesced?"
I couldn't read any emotion in my dad's voice but his choice of words seemed too stilted. I didn't want to take the cloth off my eyes and have to see the disappointment on his face. "Yes. Which I understand and I might have agreed to a short break from each other if he'd talked to me about it. It was the fact that he didn't that upset me so badly."
My father was silent. I was afraid to look at him, but I lifted the corner of the folded washcloth and peeked out from beneath it. "We worked it out, Dad."
He was staring down at his hands but looked up when I spoke. His eyes were filled with sadness and worry. "Are you sure you want to take this on, Cameron? I love Brody and Jacks, but if you continue that relationship, you will always have to deal with Monica. I doubt this will be the last time she tries to worm her way between the two of you."
My father was right. I wouldn't be able to escape Brody's ex-wife or her scheming. But I couldn't control what she chose to do. I could only choose how I reacted to it.
I wasn't going to give up the man I loved just because of her. She could only remove me from his life if I allowed it. And I never would.
"All that matters is that I won't allow her behavior to control mine. She can be sneaky, vicious, and nasty all she wants. In the end, the only people she will hurt will be her and Jacks. And it pisses me off that she won't hesitate to involve her daughter, but I can't change Monica. I can only provide her daughter with love and support when her mother tries to drag her into it."
I was surprised to see the approval in my father's face. "It won't be easy," he said.
"I believe it was you who told me that nothing worth having is easy to attain."
He smiled then. "Sounds like wise words."
I dropped the washcloth back over my face and took a deep breath. The more I relaxed, the better I felt. The pain was still there, just behind my eyes, but it wasn't as sharp.
"But your mother would want me to tell you not to let him get away with that sort of thing again."
I laughed a little, then winced. Ouch. "I've already warned him of that."
"Brody has a well-developed sense of responsibility," he replied. "He feels like he should be taking care of you and Jacks, not the other way around. I think he's gotten so used to being neglected that he doesn't stop to think about the fact that you would want to help him and take care of him in the same way he does you."
"I never thought of it like that."
"So, even though your mother would disagree with me, I'm going to tell you to cut him a little slack. He's not used to someone caring for him like that and it's going to take time for him to grow accustomed to leaning on you without feeling like a burden."
"Hmmmm. I'll take it under advisement."
My dad chuckled. "How's the pain now?" he asked.
"On a scale of one to ten, it's at a five. As long as I don't move or turn on the lights."
"Then this doctor prescribes rest, low lighting, and no stress. You work yourself too hard."
One corner of my mouth quirked up. "Don't worry. I intend to start taking a little more time off now that Sierra will be staying in town and I have an assistant manager to help out with the shop."
"Sierra's staying here? Permanently?"
"I think so. She's been talking about finding a place to rent but I think Ben wants her to move in with him."
"Your mother will be pleased."
That was code for both of them being please, but I let it go.
"All right, I'll head out and let you get some rest. I have appointments the rest of this afternoon, but if the pain gets worse, call me and I'll come by as soon as I can."
"Thanks, Dad," I said.
He leaned over and kissed my hair. "Anytime. Love you, Cam."
"Love you, too," I murmured.
I stayed still on the couch as he gathered his medical bag and left. Somehow, talking to him made me feel better, as though a weight I'd been carrying around all week had been lifted from my shoulders.
I had no idea how much time had passed but I was just about to take that nap he'd suggested when my doorbell rang. I groaned and rolled onto my side, getting slowly to my feet. If I opened that door and found someone trying to sell me something, I couldn't be held responsible for my actions.
My head didn't like the fact that I was now upright and started pounding again. I pressed one hand to my forehead and opened the door with the other without checking who might be standing on the other side.
The sight of Brody holding a big brown paper bag surprised me so much that I merely stood in the doorway and stared at him, squinting against the brightness of the afternoon sun.
Finally, I realized I wasn't hallucinating and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm done," he answered. "It's over."
34
The pounding in my head made it difficult to think straight. Done? Over? I thought we'd settled all this and that we were good.
"What?" I asked.
Brody took a moment to study me then and he came into the house, shutting the door behind him. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Migraine," I mumbled.
He set the paper bag on the console table in my foyer and took my arm. He saw the washcloth I'd set on the coffee table and picked it up. "What's this for?"
"My head. A cool, damp cloth helps sometimes." I eased myself down on the sofa then lowered my head to the pillow.
"I'll be right back."
He disappeared into the kitchen and I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing. Now that I'd gotten up and the pain in my head had exploded, I was nauseous with the pain.