‘I’m still seeing spots … but no, I guess not.’ She blinks a couple more times. ‘How in the world do you see where you’re going if you’re alone?’
I nod. ‘Yeah, that can be tricky. If you’re with bodyguards or other handlers, they just cannonball you through the crowd to where you need to be, almost like crowd-surfing. When I’m with other celebs, we stay in a herd as much as possible and head in the general direction of an entrance, exit, or car door.’
She laughs lightly. ‘That’s terrible.’
I arch a brow at her. ‘And she laughs! Where’s the compassion?’
Attempting to suppress her smile, she fails entirely. ‘No, I’m serious! But I mean, a herd of you? How is that not a funny mental picture?’
‘I’m glad my pain amuses you,’ I say, feigning a stern countenance.
She releases my hand and runs her finger across my palm. ‘Well, no herd tonight. And no bodyguard, either – unless I can stand in. I may not look very tough, but I pack a mean shin-kick.’
Imagining her booting a hulking stalker photog in the shin is only amusing to the extent that I make sure it never happens – because I sort of believe she’d do it. ‘You’re plenty tough, Dorcas Cantrell.’ When I reclaim her hand and brush my thumb over her knuckles, her lips part. ‘But your bodyguarding skills won’t be necessary this evening. I’ll get the head waiter to help us sneak out when we leave. Don’t worry over that now. Because right now, I’m just a guy, trying to have a romantic dinner with this beautiful girl …’
She lowers her eyes.
‘You aren’t worried, right?’
Her smile is wry. ‘No. But I’m really relieved to be wearing this dress, instead of an extra-large iced-tea-and-fruit-stained T-shirt.’
19
BROOKE
Reid is seriously pissing me off, but what else is new? He’s only been doing that for-fucking-ever. I get that he might be busy – Reid-world busy – which could mean anything from starting a new film project to banging a new girl, but he’s had plenty of time to get the paternity test results and sign that freaking relinquishment form.
I texted him mid-week and he didn’t answer. I called him last night and he didn’t answer. I left him a voicemail he didn’t return.
This is the sort of avoidance that makes me think something problematic is going on. I’ve worked too hard to get all my ducks swimming in a row, as Kathryn would say. I even called Daddy, which I’d been putting off doing. After that delightful meeting with my mother, I figured I didn’t have anything to lose. So I gave him the shortest version possible of what I was doing, and he was silent for half a minute or so.
‘Brooke, you’re still so young – and there’s more to being a parent than you know,’ he began, clearly about to launch into couldn’t-be-less-welcome life advice.
‘You think?’ I snapped, and he shut up right quick. ‘Look. I’m not asking your opinion or guidance any more than I wanted Sharla’s. This is an FYI call only. And if you want to tell the adoption caseworker what a horrible mother I’ll be, then just go ahead.’
He had the nerve to sound taken aback. ‘Brooke, I would never do that. I know I wasn’t the best father –’
‘Oh, my God – really? Because you keep having more children, which makes it seem like you think you’re great at it.’ I wanted to rip the gear shift out and beat myself with it after saying that. I’d just tacked a bull’s-eye right over my most emotionally susceptible spot. Idiot.
‘The opposite, actually. I kept thinking I could start over again and get it right.’
Holy shit, I thought. How deluded could he be? ‘Well, that’s just stupid. You’re screwing around with people’s lives and breaking people’s hearts. I can’t imagine why you left Kathryn for Sharla.’ I couldn’t stop sneering my mother’s given name like I was spitting out something poisonous. ‘Or why Kelley and Kylie weren’t enough for you.’ Or why I wasn’t enough for you.
‘The problem, Brooke, is that with Sharla came you. With Vivian came Rory and Evan. The marriages may look like colossal mistakes from this distance, but I don’t regret any of you kids. So I guess I can understand your motivation to get your boy back … and maybe you’re doing it right. Getting the child without the dysfunctional relationship.’
‘You say you don’t regret me, but you left me. You didn’t just leave a bad marriage. You didn’t just leave my mother, Daddy – you left me.’ I bit back tears.
‘I’m … sorry.’
‘Yeah, well.’ I steeled my jaw. ‘Try calling Rory before he turns into a teenager who hates you. Try taking Evan to the zoo or something. Go to their soccer games, or school plays, or birthday parties, instead of just sending them money.’
I realized by the time I was fifteen that my father never slacked on his financial support of me. He paid his child support payments on time. He sent birthday cards and an escalating amount of cash every year. But I was jealous of the kids whose dads showed up for their lives.
‘Do you hate me, Brooke?’
I sighed, too tired to hate more than one parent at a time with any real conviction. ‘I don’t know.’
He sighed in return. ‘You always were brutally honest.’
I huffed an indignant laugh. ‘Mom just told me I was always a bitch.’
‘What? That’s absurd. I think the whole state of Texas knows who the bitch is, sugar.’ He hadn’t called me sugar since I was ten. The age I was when he left. My jaw clenched up again.