Chapter Twenty-Three
Brady
I walked out of the restaurant feeling totally conflicted. On the one hand, yeah, the idea of having family appeals to me. Ever since my folks died, I've felt a little alone in the world. Of course, I have Nicholas and Miss Delia, but knowing I have a sister out there who's wanted nothing to do with me – it's kind of left a little bit of a hole in my heart.
So, to have Tiffany make the overture, tweaked those heartstrings.
On the other hand, though, I have a feeling she knows she was tweaking my heartstrings. If there's one thing I've learned about Tiffany – mostly through Kendrick and Thomas – it's that she's cold. Manipulative. She looks out for herself, always has an agenda, and never does anything without having some strings attached.
Both Kendrick and Thomas have both warned me to be cautious around her and to never take anything she says or does at face value.
I am heading for my car, lost in thought, when I hear somebody calling my name. I turn around and feel my stomach drop into my boots. Standing there on the sidewalk in front of me is none other than Angie Willows – Nicholas' mother.
She looks almost exactly like she did the last time I saw her. Her long brunette hair falls to the middle of her back, framing her round, sweet face. Her dark eyes stand out against her milky white skin and she's tall – five foot eleven – and slender.
It's been four years, but it doesn't look like a single day has passed.
“Angie,” I say slowly, feeling my breath catch in my throat. “What are you doing here?”
She shuffles her feet nervously. “I was hoping we could talk.”
As I stand there taking her in, my mind is a battlefield. There's certainly a wave of nostalgia seeing her face – I'd cared for her at one point. But there is also a lot of anger – a deep, abiding anger – at her for abandoning both Nicholas and me.
I clear my throat and try to get my head on straight. “I don't know that there's anything to talk about, Angie,” I say. “You made your feelings pretty clear when you walked out on us four years ago.”
Her eyes are shining with tears and she looks down at her feet. “It's – complicated.”
“You walked out on your son four years ago,” I say with some real heat in my voice. “Never a card. A letter. Never a phone call or an email. Nothing. You just fell off the face of the earth. So, I really don't see what there is to talk about at all.”
She sighs. “I'd like a chance to explain it to you, Brady,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Can we please just go somewhere and talk?”
I sigh and look from her to the car, torn between talking to her or getting in the car and walking out on her the way she'd walked out on Nicholas and me. I have a million questions I want answers to – answers I never thought I'd get. But with Angie standing there, right in front of me, I guess I have my chance.
“Fine,” I say and point to a small outdoor cafe. “Let's go talk.”
When we're seated, I set my hat on the seat next to me and lean back. Angie sits on the edge of her seat looking around nervously – looking anywhere but at me. The waitress comes over and I order a beer, she orders an iced tea. When she drops off our drinks and leaves the table, I motion to Angie.
“So? Talk,” I say.
“I don't know what to say, Brady,” she says. “I'm sorry just doesn't seem adequate.”
My bark of laughter is brittle and bitter. “Because it's not.”
She tears small strips from her napkin, still refusing to look at me. “I just – I wasn't ready to be a mother, Brady. I was still into partying and drugs –”
“Oh, and I was ready to be a dad?” I ask. “A single dad at that?”
“I didn't know what to do,” she says. “And – your mother offered me a large sum of money to go away.”
“That's bullshit, Angie.”
She shakes her head and looks me in the eye for the first time. “It's really not,” she says. “Your mother knew I wasn't ready and feared what kind of a mom I would be to her grandson. So, one night, we had a long talk. She said that if I wasn't ready and didn't think I was up to the job, she'd cut me a check then and there to just go. She said she'd rather you raise Nicholas on your own than have a mother who wasn't cut out for it. She was afraid I'd do more damage to Nicholas than good.”
I take a long pull of my beer and let what she said sink in. It sounds like my mother. She was obsessed with making sure Nicholas had a good upbringing. That he had a parent who was fully engaged in his life. And knowing that Angie was only not really into it, but that she had a slight drug problem back then too – yeah, I could see my mom doing that thinking it was in the best interest of Nicholas. Hell, in her place, maybe I would have too.
“So, rather than clean your act up and get your head in the game,” I say, “you decided to take the money and run.”
She shrugs. “In my place, you would have too.”
“I was in your place,” I snap. “And I didn't because I didn't have the choice. But even if I had, no, I most certainly wouldn't have, Angie. I had a son. A responsibility. So, did you. But you chose to bail on that.”
She looks down at her hands again and I can see her fighting to keep her composure. I can see her silently counting to ten before she looks back up at me.
“Things are different now, Brady,” she says. “I'm clean. I've got a good job. I'm in a steady relationship.”
I take another long pull of my beer. “Good for you,” I say, my tone a little frosty.
“And I want to see my son,” she says. “I'd like to start building a relationship with him.”
“The hell you will,” I say. “You're not coming anywhere near Nicholas.”
“It's my right as his mother,” she says.
“You gave up that right when you abandoned us.”
She gives me a small smile and clears her throat. “But I'm back now,” she says. “And I want to see my son.”
“Not gonna happen, Angie,” I say. “I'm not going to throw his life into upheaval because you decided that you're ready to be a decent human being all of the sudden. Especially knowing you and knowing how quickly that can change.”
“Screw you, Brady.”
“Yeah, I won't make that mistake again.”
There's real anger in her eyes as she stares at me. “I don't want to take this to court, but I will if I have to.”
“Feel free,” I say. “You'll lose.”
“The hell I will.”
I shrug. “You can try,” I say. “But I've got some of the best lawyers in the city on retainer. And don't forget the influence my family's name has in San Antonio. So, feel free to do what you have to do, Angie. But you will lose big and the only thing you'd accomplish is wasting a lot of money.”
“You can't keep me from my son.”
I shrug. “I don't need to do much,” I say. “You've kept yourself away for four years. Are we done here?”
She doesn't say anything else, so I get to my feet. Angie jumps up and before I can react, throws her arms around my neck and plants a kiss on me. I'm so stunned that all I can do is stand there with her attached to my face for a minute before I come back to my senses and push her away.
“What the hell, Angie?” I snap.
“I'm sorry, I –”
I turn and storm off, walking back to the car. Derek is holding the door open for me and I jump in quickly. As he closes the door and the gloomy interior envelops me, lean back in the plush seat. My mind is spinning in a million different directions with a million different questions.
But I need to put it all out of my head. Tonight is an important night and I don't want any of this garbage floating around.
“Where to, sir?” Derek asks.
“Home,” I say. “Home. This has been one of the weirdest days ever.”