Brody Page 7

  “How do you know that? I mean, I don’t even know for sure that they want to meet me. I only have the old man’s word, and we all know that isn’t worth a damn.”

  I coaxed him up onto the covered porch and tugged him onto one of the Adirondack chairs covered with cheerful red, orange, and yellow cushions. “You think you know your father, but isn’t it possible the man he is today isn’t the man you knew?”

  He glanced at the red door before letting his eyes travel over the rest of the house and yard. The house was a two-story with attractive wood siding, and the lawn appeared freshly cut. There wasn’t a weed in the flowerbeds, only clusters of red and yellow flowers planted in rich dark soil.

  “We would have given anything to grow up in a house like this,” he said bitterly. “But he couldn’t stay sober long enough to hold a job. So we got shuffled from apartment to apartment. I remember we even spent one Christmas in our van.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, curling my hand over his knee. “You never told me about that.”

  “That’s why Ryker always makes such a big deal about the holidays. He wants his boys to have the kind of Christmases we never had.”

  “That’s understandable. You’ve all grown up to be amazing men. In spite of your father. And I’m willing to bet your half-brothers are becoming fine young men too, maybe because of him.” I knew he didn’t want to hear that, but I felt compelled to say it. “Isn’t that what you would want for them, to have the kind of father you always wanted?”

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding his head slowly. “It is.”

  “So let’s try to go in there with an open mind. Talk to the boys. Listen to them tell you about their father. You may find he’s the kind of father you always wanted, and still could have, if you’re open to the possibility.”

  “God.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “There’s just so much bad blood between us. How do I bury that? How do I forget what he did to us, to Mom?”

  “You always told me your mom was the sweetest, kindest, most forgiving woman in the world. Do you think she would have been able to forgive him?”

  “I know she would have,” he said, watching a young boy ride a shiny red bike down the street as his dad watched from the end of their driveway. “When she was dying, I asked her if she hated him. She said she couldn’t because he’d given her the best thing that ever happened to her—us.”

  I’d only met his mother a few times, and by then, she’d been sick. But I knew everything he said about her was true. She had been a remarkable woman who would want her sons to forgive their father’s sins.

  Sounding choked up, he asked, “How did she let go of all the anger? Even after all these years, I still don’t know how to do that.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to know that right now. Maybe you just need to take it one step at a time. I’d say coming here is the first step. You’ll know what the next step should be based on what feels right. Just go with your gut. It’s never betrayed you before.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder. “My gut led me to gambling in the first place. Now I’m not so sure I should have followed that impulse.”

  Ever since he’d decided to make poker his career, I’d never heard him voice any reservations, so this was all new to me, and I didn’t know how to take it. Was he just going through a crisis after seeing his father for the first time in twenty years, or was there more to it? Maybe he really was ready to stop running.

  “I don’t think this is the time or place to question that.” I gestured to the door. “Right now, you just need to focus on getting to know those boys.”

  “Right.” He stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black bomber jacket.

  I hadn’t seen him dressed up since he came to stay with me, and I liked this more casual Brody. He reminded me of the boy I fell in love with.

  Slipping my arm through his, we walked to the door, and I rang the bell. I felt the tension in his body, so I patted his arm before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  A woman I guessed to be in her late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a warm smile, opened the door. “You must be Brody.” She offered her hand. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.” She closed her other hand over his, her soft brown eyes conveying her genuine pleasure.

  “Nice to meet you too,” he muttered.

  “I’m Sandra, your dad’s wife.”

  He slipped his hand from hers before gesturing to me. “And this is my girl—uh, my friend, Riley.”

  “Hi, Riley,” she said, taking my hand. “Brody, your dad is in the garage working on something. He wanted to give you a little time with the boys.” She stepped back, inviting us in. “You’re welcome to go out and see him, if you want to. He just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

  I glanced around, noting how lovely their home was. It was warm and welcoming, with polished honey wood steps leading to a second floor. There was a formal dining room on the right and a casual family room on the left. Both spaces were decorated in warm shades of crimson, gold, and green, with solid-looking wood furniture.

  “If you don’t mind,” Brody said, barely noting his surroundings, “I’d just like to meet your sons.”

  “Of course,” Sandra said, smiling. She walked to a staircase that led downstairs. “Guys, Brody’s here.”

  Given the fact we were in Vegas, I was surprised there was a basement. I was about to comment on it, but I figured Brody had more pressing matters on his mind at the moment. He looked as anxious as I’d ever seen him, which was saying a lot, since he’d perfected his poker face years ago.

  Two boys bounded up the stairs, and I must have gasped because Brody shot me a curious look. They looked so much like Brody and his brothers at that age, it took me back.

  “Hey,” the boys said in unison, looking even more anxious than their older brother.

  I tried to imagine what they must be thinking and feeling. He was a man they’d never met, one whose reputation preceded him, especially in the town that made him famous. Brody was all about flashy clothes and cars, a multi-millionaire with a gift for high stakes poker, and they were clearly intimidated.

  “Hey, guys,” Brody said, stepping forward to offer his hand. He clearly realized it was up to him to put them at ease and make it clear that he was here because he wanted to get to know them and hopefully forge a lasting relationship with them.

  I watched them all shake hands and share reserved smiles before their gazes landed on me. Then their smiles broadened.

  The one who introduced himself as Beck asked Brody, “She your girlfriend?”

  Seeming at a loss for words, Brody said, “She’s—”

  “Hi,” I said, stepping forward to offer my hand first to Beck, then Tanner. “I’m Riley. I’ve known Brody since he was younger than you guys, if you can believe that. When he told me about you, I couldn’t wait to meet you, so he offered to bring me along.” It wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t think a little white lie would hurt.

  After claiming it was nice to meet me, Beck hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “We’ve got a pretty sweet setup downstairs. You wanna shoot some pool? We were just watching a football game.”

  “I’d love to.” Turning to me, Brody said, “You wanna come with us, Ri?”

  “Oh, Riley, I was hoping you’d keep me company? I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.” To Brody, Sandra said, “There’s a fridge downstairs and plenty of snacks out. Please help yourself.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a brief smile. He clearly found it difficult not to be charmed by his stepmother.

  So did I. She had a wonderful, positive energy I felt drawn to. “I’d love that, Sandra. Thank you.”

  “Okay then,” Brody said, following his brothers downstairs. “Just shout if you need me, Ri.”

  “Don’t you worry about her,” Sandra called after him. “She’s in good hands.”

  I followed her down a narrow hallway to a kitchen with a swinging door. The honey wo
od theme continued in here, with warm wood cabinets, earth-tone granite countertops, and sandy ceramic floors. There were also warm red and green accents, picking up the colors used on the rest of the main floor.

  “I love the way your house is decorated,” I said after she invited me to sit at the large wood table butted up against a wraparound window seat. “Did you do it yourself?”

  She smiled as she set a pot of coffee on a woven mat beside the dark red mugs she’d left out. “My mother owned a little home décor shop. I’ve worked there since I was teenager, and when she retired, I took over.”

  “Ah, I see.” I loved to dabble in decorating and, given my job, felt it was crucial to keep up with the trends not just in weddings, but also home décor and fashion, since they were so closely related. “That makes sense.”

  She placed a sliced lemon poppy seed loaf on the table between us, along with two small plates, before going to the stainless steel fridge for milk and cream. After returning to the table, she gestured to the loaf. “If you’re not a fan, I have some blueberry muffins too.”

  “No, this is wonderful,” I said, reaching for a slice and a paper napkin. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” She filled our cups before adding cream and sugar to hers. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you and Brody are here. It took Jack so long to work up the courage to go see his son, and when he finally did…” She shook her head. “We weren’t expecting miracles. So when Brody called to say he wanted to meet the boys, we were so grateful.”

  “I’m glad we’re here too,” I said, trying to be cautiously optimistic. “I think this will be good for all of them.”

  “I hope so,” Sandra said, her smile slipping. “Jack misses his boys so much. He knows he doesn’t have a right to, since he was never much of a father when they were growing up, but people do change. And he certainly has.”

  I didn’t want to pry, but since she seemed willing to talk about her husband’s past, I had to ask, “Did you know him… before?”

  She fluffed her stylishly tapered bob. “Before he got sober? Yes, I did.” She laughed. “He was a dreadful person. If that’s their only memory of him, I’m not surprised Brody and his brothers want nothing to do with him.”

  I was grateful Sandra seemed to see their side of it. If they felt they had an ally in their stepmother, that would make it easier for them all to forge a relationship. “But he’s changed?”

  “Oh yes, definitely,” she said, nodding emphatically. “I wouldn’t have married him if I wasn’t sure he had. You see, I’d already had one bad marriage to an abusive alcoholic.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She forced a smile. “I got two beautiful children out of the deal, so I don’t regret it.”

  “You have other children?” I took a sip of the strong, rich brew.

  “Yes, two daughters.” She pointed at a built-in corner shelf with clusters of pictures, plants, and knickknacks. “There they are with their husbands and children. I have three grandbabies so far.”

  “That’s nice,” I said, admiring her beautiful family. “The kids are so cute.” And just as always, I felt a twinge at the sight of ringlets, chubby cheeks, and wide, innocent eyes.

  “Thank you,” she said, beaming. “I’m lucky they all live nearby, so I get to babysit a lot.” She drank her coffee before she said, “I understand Jack has grandchildren too, just a little younger than our boys?”

  “Yes, Zane and Cole.” I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. How would Ryker feel if he knew I was talking about his kids with a stepmother he didn’t even know he had? “They’re great kids. I’m sure they’d get along great with Beck and Tanner.”

  “It would be so wonderful if they could meet,” she said, clasping her hands together. “All their lives, they’ve grown up wanting to know more about their brothers. Jack couldn’t tell them a lot. It was just too hard for him to talk about them, so eventually Beck and Tanner stopped asking. Of course, when they got older, they just Googled them.”

  I could only imagine the things they’d read about Brody. I hoped that wouldn’t color their opinion of him. Underneath the hype, he really was one of the finest men I knew. That was why I couldn’t stop loving him, no matter how hard I tried.

  “So you and your husband were friends before you married?” If I learned more about their story, I could fill Brody in later. If he saw they were just a regular, happy family, he might be more willing to be a part of it, and invite Ryker and the rest of their brothers to do the same.

  “We were neighbors, actually. I lived next door with my girls after the divorce. It was my parents’ home, but they didn’t need all that space, so they moved to a condo and let me stay in their house with the kids.” Rolling her eyes, she said, “My ex was something of a deadbeat. He didn’t pay child support or alimony, and they knew I would have a hard time making it on my own.”

  There was so much I could have said in response, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to cause more conflict.

  Sandra covered my hand with hers, looking into my eyes. “I know you must be thinking that Jack was no better to his kids than my ex was to ours. I know he didn’t treat his wife well, and he certainly didn’t support those boys. Not while they were all living under the same roof or after he left.”

  “Why?” I asked, trying to make sense of the two different pictures she painted. “Why didn’t he even try to help his kids? He knew their mother was gone, that they had no one else, so why didn’t he try to do something to help them?”

  “It took him a while to get his own life together,” she said solemnly. “A lifetime’s worth of hard habits aren’t easy to break.”

  “No, I don’t imagine they are.”

  “I was cautious about befriending him at first because he reminded me so much of my ex, especially when he told me about his late wife and kids.” She traced the pattern on the paisley placemats with her ruby-tipped finger. “But I saw something in him I never saw in Tom—remorse.”

  “Really?” I wanted to believe that Brody’s father regretted his actions, since I believed that was the only hope they had of moving past all their bitterness and resentment.

  “Absolutely. He hated himself for not being a better husband and father. I think that’s why he turned to the bottle in the first place.”

  I was humbled that she was opening up to me about such deeply personal issues, but I appreciated it and had to believe Brody would too. “Brody said Jack had a hard time holding down a job and gambled all the time. Apparently he was in and out of their lives over the years. Sometimes for weeks or a month, depending.”

  “I know.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’d be able to forgive him if I were Brody. I can only tell you how much he’s changed, how good a father and husband he’s been for the past eighteen years.”

  Judging by the timeline I knew, I assumed they’d gotten married the year their oldest son was born, maybe because of him. “I’m glad to hear that. For your sake and for theirs.”

  “I feel like I’ve bored you to tears telling you our life story.” She laughed lightly as she touched my arm. “Tell me about you and Brody. Are you a couple?”

  “We were for a long time.”

  She smiled that knowing smile that said as a mother and grandmother, she’d heard it all. “Let me guess—it’s complicated, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised.” She inhaled deeply as her eyes drifted to the pictures of her daughters. “My girls had a hard time trusting men after what their father did to me.”

  “Do they get along well with Jack?” I was still so curious about the person who’d fathered the man I loved. I wanted to get to know him, and I hoped he wouldn’t hide in the garage all day because he assumed that was what Brody expected or wanted him to do.

  “They love him,” she said, reaching for a slice of cake. “They treat him like a father, since theirs is no longer in the picture.” When I nodde
d, she said, “Ironic, right? That he could be such a good father to my kids even though he was a rotten one to his own?”

  “Like you said, people can change.” More than ever, I wanted to believe that was true.

  Chapter Seven

  Brody

  Hanging out with Beck and Tanner wasn’t weird, as I’d feared it would be. It was comfortable, like hanging out with my nephews. We’d played some pool, watched football, and were battling it out over video games. I supposed it was easy to relate to them because, as Mac teased, I was still just a big kid myself.

  “What’s it like?” Tanner asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He’d finally had to concede defeat and drop his controller when his brother “killed” him. “Being loaded?”

  I chuckled when Beck got me too. Good thing I was better at poker than I was at video games, or I wouldn’t be loaded. “It’s better than being dirt poor,” I admitted after a beat.

  We’d carefully avoided the subject of our father all afternoon, and I didn’t want to talk about him now. But I knew we couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever, and since I was supposed to be the adult, I decided to dive in to let them know it was okay to do the same.

  “We didn’t have it easy growing up,” I said, though I was pretty sure they already knew that. My old man wouldn’t have invited me here if he was trying to keep secrets from his youngest kids about the kind of father he’d been to us. Or if he was, he was an idiot to think I’d protect him. I didn’t owe him a damn thing. “My mom died when we were pretty young, and the old man was in and out of the picture. To be honest, life was better when he was out of the picture.”

  Tanner and Beck shared a look before Beck said, “I know you’ve got problems with Dad, Brody. He told us all about it, but he’s a really good guy. He’s always been there for us.”

  “I’m glad.” And a little envious. “Maybe he learned a thing or two from the mistakes he made with us.”

  I heard a door slam upstairs, and since Sandra and Riley had just come downstairs to let us know they were going to take a walk to visit her home décor shop, I knew the man in question must have crawled out of his hole. I’d wondered if he’d have the guts to show his face eventually. Apparently he was getting braver in his old age, or stupider. I didn’t want to fight with him, not in front of his kids, but I wasn’t interested in making nice either.