Brett watched as flaming‑hot anger filled Kelsey’s face. He had no idea Carlene would fall apart like this, or he never would have invited her. When he called her, she’d been thrilled. She’d quizzed him very careful to find out how she needed to dress for the restaurant. What time to be there. She’d acted calm and reasonable and thanked him over and over for going out on a limb and inviting her. After she’d begged him to intercede on her behalf, why wouldn’t he expect her to show up sober?

“Carlene, why don’t you sit back down for just a minute?” Brett said. “I need to talk to Kelsey.”

As he led Carlene back to a barstool, the bartender shot him a dirty look. I want you to get rid of her, not bring her back! Brett held up a finger, telling the bartender to wait. Then he hurried back to where Kelsey stood and led her to the hall near the restrooms.

"Was it really you?" she asked hotly. "Did you do it? Did you actually invite my mother to this restaurant?"

"Kelsey—"

"After you told me we were just going on a date?"

"I thought it would be okay," Brett said, desperation setting in. "She seemed so apologetic when she came to see you. And when I talked to her—"

"You thought she'd behave herself? That she'd sit down, have a nice dinner and everybody would be happy?"

"I don’t know,” he said helplessly. “I guess I thought if you had a good evening with your mother, then—"

"Then what? What? Then everything would be wonderful again? That every memory of everything she ever did to me as a child would go away?”

“Kelsey, she lost her job.”

“So that gives her the right to start drinking again?”

“No, but at least it’s an explanation.”

“Damn it, when are you going to get this? It’s always something! Always!”

“She was sober when I invited her. I swear she was. Completely sober. She talked about her job. She said it was the first one she’d held in years, and it was working out. I thought it was possible she'd show up, you'd start talking to her, and before the night was over…” He exhaled. “I don’t know. I thought maybe everything would start to be okay again."

“I don’t believe this,” she said. “Are you seriously that naïve?”

With every word they exchanged, Brett felt the chasm growing between them, because it went to the heart of who each of them were. How were they ever supposed to get around that?

“Maybe I am naive,” he said. “Maybe I always believe the best is going to happen. But it’s better than always anticipating the worst, isn’t it?”

“That’s called being realistic.”

“God, Kelsey! Can’t you see what you’re doing? This has made you miserable. Every memory you have of your mother, of your childhood, all of it is killing you. It's seeped into everything you do, everything you are, until you don't believe there's anything good out there. You're suspicious of everyone and everything.”

“Hell, yes, I am! If you’d come from where I did, you’d be suspicious of everything, too!”

“I know. And you have every right to feel that way. But wouldn’t you like things to be different? Wouldn’t you like to feel positive about life for a switch?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You know, I’ve had about enough of all the rainbows and unicorns. Life isn’t like that.”

“It is for me.”

“Maybe I’m not as fortunate.”

“You could be.”

He inched closer. When she turned away, his desperation edged into panic. This wasn’t working. He could feel her slipping away, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He only knew if they couldn’t work this out, he might never get her back.

“I’ll put your mother in a cab,” he said. “Make sure she gets home, and then we can talk some more.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t deal with her, Brett. And I can’t deal with you.”

His heart nearly stopped. “What?”

"If you're not kissing me on a street corner or squirting me with a water gun or throwing my clothes out the window, you're inviting my alcoholic mother to dinner. What's the matter with you?"

"I’m sorry, Kelsey. I really am. I know that was wrong, but—"

"Yeah. Of course you know now. That's the way it always is with you. You don’t know it’s wrong until after the fact. After she showed up and embarrassed the hell out of me!”

“I know she’s hurt you. But you need to realize that it doesn’t matter what your mother does. All that matters how you deal with it.”

“I’ve been dealing with it just fine until you did this!”

“No, you haven’t,” he said gently, taking her by the upper arms, refusing to let her turn away. “You haven’t. You’ve just been avoiding it. But that doesn’t mean you don’t wish things were right between you. This is killing you, Kelsey. And I can’t stand watching it.”

She looked up at him with an expression of frustration and anger, but there was something else there, too, something he couldn’t read, and he thought maybe she understood what he was saying. God, he hoped so. If only she’d let her anger go, they could face this problem together.

Then all at once she shuddered away from him. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “This isn’t working. It just isn’t.”

He felt a shot of desperation. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

“My God, Brett! If you thought this was a good idea, what insane thing are you going to do next?”

He opened his mouth to respond, only to close it again. He had no answer for that. None at all. Because the truth was he didn’t know. He only knew that in trying to make her happy, he’d done something so terrible that might drive her away forever.

“We can talk about this,” he said again. “Go home. I’ll deal with your mother, and then we’ll talk.”

“No,” she said, backing away.

“Kelsey—“

“No more talking. Don't you ever talk to me again."

With that she turned and left the restaurant. Brett just stood there helplessly, watching her walk away and feeling as if he was going to die.

* * *

Kelsey walked out of the restaurant and strode down the street, sick with the thought of what had just happened. How could Brett have done something so awful? How? It just proved what she’d known all along. He was a loose cannon. An accident waiting to happen. If she continued a relationship with him, she’d never know what crazy, outlandish thing was coming next. And that was completely unacceptable. Life may have been great for the past few weeks, but it had been like a visit to Disney World. She could live a fantasy life for a short time, but sooner or later she had to go home to reality.

Hadn’t she known that? Hadn’t she known?

She wanted nothing more than to get back to her apartment, shut the door behind her, and pretend this night had never happened. Her feet were killing her in these damned shoes. Never again. She was never again going to wear something so horribly uncomfortable just to please a man. Never.

As she hurried along the street, she felt as if the city was closing in on her, cars honking, people shouting, glaring lights stabbing through the darkness. Then everything suddenly seemed blurry, and she realized it was because her eyes were full of tears. She swept the back of her hand across them and kept on walking. Brett had turned her life upside down one too many times, and she intended to make sure he never did it again.

* * *

After Brett made sure Carlene was cognizant enough to find her way into her apartment once she was home, he put her into a cab, got her address from his wallet, gave it to the driver, and sent her on her way. Then he ambled down the street, his hands stuck in his pockets, wondering how in the hell he was ever going to fix this. He didn’t see a way. He just didn’t.

He desperately needed some advice.

He walked to a nearby bench, pulled out his phone, and sat down. He dialed Jacob’s number, and his brother came on the line. “Hey, Brett. What’s up?”

Brett put his fingertips to his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed. “I think I’ve really done it this time.”

“Ah, God. What now?”

He told his brother the story, hating himself more with every word he spoke. When he finished, Jacob said, "Okay, let me get this straight. You thought it would be a good idea to invite a recovering alcoholic to a bar?"

“No! It was a restaurant!”

“A restaurant with a bar. Isn’t that playing with fire?”

Brett hadn’t thought about that. When he thought about this evening, he’d only imagined them having dinner together. That was all.

“When I invited her, she was stone-cold sober,” he said. “And she was so grateful to me for asking her to come.”

"But it never dawned on you that she might fall off the wagon? That maybe the evening wouldn’t go quite as you’d planned?”

Brett dropped his head to his hand. Oh, God. He didn't know what he’d thought. He just knew the whole thing was a big, fat disaster.

"So why didn't you tell Kelsey you wanted to invite her mother?” Jacob asked.

"Because she would have told me not to."

"Okay," Jacob said. "I want you to think about what you just said."

Jacob was right. He always made up these wonderful scenarios inside his head, and then he was surprised when they didn’t happen the way he’d imagined. Kelsey was right, too. It was time he knocked off the rainbows and unicorns and saw things how they really were. Why hadn’t he realized that before he made such a mess of things?

“Give me some advice,” Brett said, his voice full of desperation. “Something. Anything.”

"I don't know if you can fix this one," Jacob said.

“Please don’t tell me that.”

”I’m sorry," Jacob said on a sigh. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

“Yeah,” Brett said, feeling miserable. “So am I.”

After he hung up, he slumped on the bench, wishing he could go back in time, uninvite Carlene, and spend a nice evening with Kelsey alone. Unfortunately, that ship had sailed. So what was he supposed to do now? If Jacob had no words of wisdom for him, what was left?

Maybe it was time he went straight to the top.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his phone again and dialed his parents’ number. After a few rings, his mother answered. “Hi, honey,” she said. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he lied.

“How’s the job?”

“Good.”

After a little chitchat, his mother said, “Did Jacob tell you we’ve decided to come for a visit sometime next month?”

“No. He didn’t mention that.”

“He tells us you’re seeing a woman. We want to meet her. Of course you’ll bring her out to the house when we’re there, won’t you?”

A knife was already buried in his heart, and his mother had just given it a good, hard twist. “I don’t know, Mom. We’re kinda on the outs right now.”

“But Jacob liked her. He said she was good for you.”

“She is.”

“So did Miranda, and she’s a good judge of character.”

“I know.”

“Oh, my. So what happened?”

God, this was killing him. What happened? He’d behaved like the biggest dumbass who’d ever lived. That was what had happened.

“Mom? Could you put Dad on for a minute?”

“Sure, honey. Just a sec.”

There was some commotion, and then Brett heard his mother say—with no small amount of sarcasm—“Brett. You know. Your son?” And then Brett heard the squeak of the recliner as his father hauled himself out of it and came to the phone. It was a wired land line he paid fifty bucks a month for and refused to get rid. Technology had left Frank Hollister so far behind he’d need a bullet train to catch up.

“Hi, Dad,” Brett said.

“So do we get to meet this girl? Huh? Your mother is counting on it.”

Brett squeezed his eyes closed. “Well, there’s a problem with that.”

“Son, your attention span stinks. Just once could you stick with one of them for more than five minutes?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Oh, what the hell. He had nothing to lose except his self respect. It was time to throw himself on the mercy of Frank and hope his father could show him a way out of this horrible mess.

Brett launched in. He told his father the story. He left out the part about throwing Kelsey’s clothes out the window, because before that could happen she had to have been naked in his bedroom. If there was one thing Frank didn’t want to hear about, it was his sons’ sex lives. But there was still plenty left to admit. And then he got to the worst part of all—inviting her alcoholic mother to dinner—and explained how it had been wrong, wrong, wrong for him to do that. Then he told his father more about Kelsey. That she was different from other women. She was kind, intelligent, hardworking, and levelheaded, and he didn’t think there was a way on earth he could do better if he lived to be a thousand years old. And through it all, his father didn’t say a word.

When Brett finally wrapped it up, he let out a breath and said, “Explaining why I invited her mother didn’t work. Apologizing didn’t work. Kelsey told me she’s never speaking to me again as long as she lives. So what do I do now?”

As he waited through dead air, Brett desperately wanted to hang up, but he wanted an answer even more. But even then, he expected to hear a world-weary reprimand, and then another page out of the Tao of Frank. When the going gets tough, the tough get going. The darkest point is just before dawn. When at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Instead, his father said something he never would have expected in a million years.

“Have you tried telling her you love her?”

Brett froze, his brain flatlining. For the count of at least ten, he didn’t say a word, and neither did his father.

“Love her?” he finally croaked out.

“Well, you do, don’t you?”

“Do what?”

“Love her! Son, will you pay attention?”

“Yeah, I heard you, but…”

“But what?”

Love? Was he in love with Kelsey? Was that why he felt so horribly, desperately upset at the thought of never touching her again?

“Hey!” Frank said. “I’m talking to you! Do you love her?”

“Yeah,” Brett said, shocked to be saying it. “Yeah. I do.”

“Okay, then. What’s your last name?”

“Uh…Hollister?”

“You’re not sure?”

“No. I’m sure.”

“That’s right. You’re a Hollister. And Hollisters don’t take no for an answer, so quit whining and live up to the name I gave you. We expect to meet this girl next month, you hear?”

Then the line went dead.

Brett dropped his arm to the park bench beside him, and his phone nearly fell out of his hand. You’re in love with her. You’re in love with Kelsey.

The words kept circling through his mind, making him so dizzy he could barely sit up. He had to talk to her. Beg her forgiveness. Throw himself on her mercy. Anything to get back what they had together.

What if he actually told her he was in love with her? What would happen?

He didn’t know. But after tonight, he knew what could happen. She could tell him one more time never to speak to her again, and if she did that, he just might wither up and die. But when his alternative was to lose her forever, what other choice did he have?