‘I’m not kidding, Daddy. Call Rory and Evan. I’ll … keep you posted on River.’
‘His name is River? Brooke and River.’ He chuckled. ‘I like it. I’d like to meet him –’
‘Not if you’re going to disappear on him,’ I countered.
‘I … understand. Keep me posted. And don’t worry about Sharla. She’ll come around.’
‘No, she won’t – but I don’t care. You know as well as anyone – some things just don’t work out.’
Me: WHY aren’t you calling me back? Have you signed the form???
Reid: Give me five minutes. I’ll call you.
‘Have you signed it?’ I answer in place of hello, trying to keep the panic out of my voice, but there’s something going on, and I know it. Something he’s not telling me. I can feel it the way you feel certain storms out here in the hill country, right before they roll across the horizon. Like the air is charged. Electric. The invisible hairs on your body all standing up for it. Waiting.
‘I haven’t, and I’m not going to –’
‘What? What? What the f**k, Reid –’
‘Will you give me a minute, please? We need to talk about –’
‘Reid, if you don’t sign that form –’
‘Don’t threaten me, Brooke.’ His voice is solid, authoritative in a way it’s never been, and I’m shot through with fear, because he has the upper hand, and he clearly knows it. ‘Please shut up and listen.’
I say nothing.
‘I can’t sign the form because … I don’t want to relinquish my rights to him.’
My whole body begins to shake uncontrollably, like it did the time I popped an amphetamine at a party – which scared me so badly I never tried it again. I yank on my boots, which look ridiculous at the end of my flannel pyjama bottoms, but I don’t care. Phone pressed to my ear, I tromp down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Kathryn and Glenn are making brunch together – a Sunday morning ritual. Jazz flows lightly from the sound system and the smell of waffles and bacon permeates the room.
‘I’m walking down to the creek,’ I tell them, yanking a sweater from the coat rack and sliding the back door open.
Kathryn turns, spatula in hand, her smile fading as she takes in the phone and my freaked-out expression. ‘Everything okay, honey?’ Her head angles and she takes a step towards me.
‘Fine. Everything’s fine.’ My smile feels like elastic play putty. There’s nothing of me in it. ‘I’ll be back up in a few minutes.’
‘I want to join your adoption application,’ Reid says as I pull the glass door shut behind me.
‘Why are you doing this?’ I’m trembling so hard that I’m afraid I’ll drop the phone. Pulling the sweater’s hood over my head as though the chill in the air is responsible for my body’s reaction to Reid’s words, I stomp in the direction of the creek. ‘Why?’
‘I talked to my dad –’
‘So this is a legal move? You’re covering your ass or some shit while I’m trying to give him a home –’
‘No. No, that’s not it.’
I realize then that he’s speaking quietly. Almost whispering.
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in San Fran. With Dori. Her birthday is tomorrow, so we’re here for the weekend. That’s why I didn’t call you back right away. That … and I knew how you’d react to this.’
In the short amount of time I’ve been here, I’ve already begun to re-flatten a path from the house to the creek. ‘Let me guess. You still haven’t told her.’
‘No.’
‘But you told your dad.’
‘Yes. And I plan to tell Dori. Today. I just wanted to wait …’ He sighs. ‘I wish there was some way I didn’t have to tell her. I don’t know how she’s going to react.’
‘You’re at a hotel? It’s like 8 a.m. there – are you in the room?’
‘Our room has a private terrace. I’m outside.’ He laughs softly. ‘With a blanket. Jesus Christ it’s colder here than LA.’
‘I don’t want to talk about the weather, Reid.’
I reach the creek, and my favourite rock, the flat surface of which is freezing cold. The slow trickle of the current is soothing, even so. I tuck the sweater under my butt and pull my knees to my chest, shivering and exhaling quick-fading clouds of warm breath.
‘Okay. Yeah. I know.’ He sighs. ‘Dad thinks the best thing would be if we join the application you’ve already started.’
‘I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Reid. You’ve never expressed any interest in him –’
‘I didn’t think he was mine, Brooke. I got that conviction in my head years ago, and I just never let it go – not until we talked a couple of months ago. Not fully, to tell you the truth, until you sent me that photo. And now – the fact that you haven’t once asked about the test results, well, obviously, you didn’t need to ask. You knew what they’d be.’
I close my eyes. Feel the speckled rays of sun touch my face through the trees. Listen to the creek babble. And forgive him, finally. ‘I did.’
‘Shit. I’m just so – sorry –’
‘We were kids, Reid – I know that. We were too young to be in love or anything. We were just kids.’ These are hollow words, of course. I loved Reid, once upon a time. For too long, I’ve held on to a silly little-girl belief that I didn’t misread him completely. That some part of him loved me too. It’s time I got over that … and yet, I don’t need or want to hear the blunt truth.