“Dammit,” I grunt, wiping tears away with both open palms. It’s the kind of cry that takes fingers, hands, and forearms to clean up the mess.
“Mom,” Brielle calls my name again.
“I’m okay.” No you’re not.
“No you’re not.”
Never realized the voice of my conscience was the same as my daughter’s.
“Ugh,” I exhale, letting my head fall back on the headrest. Maybe this position will keep anymore tears from falling. “I’m not, but we’re not gonna talk about it.”
“Because you haven’t had coffee yet?”
Face falling to the right, I stare at my little genius. “You know me so well. That’s exactly what I need.”
“I’m hungry,” she adds.
“All right. Let’s get on the road and we’ll stop somewhere in Port Charlotte.”
“Mom,” she replies with a bored tone. “We’re parked in front of a diner. Can’t we eat here?”
Just ahead is the rustic diner I worked at before I moved away. When I threw my car in park, I came to a stop in the diner’s parking lot.
“Well, you wanted to see where I used to work, here it is.”
Unbuckling her seat belt, she scoots to the center and leans between the driver and passenger seat. “It’s empty.”
“Everyone’s probably on their way church. Perfect time for us.”
Because after glancing briefly at my face in the rearview mirror, no one in this town needs to witness this mess.
Red and blotchy, I climb out of the car with my sunglasses covering a third of my face. Before we left Luke’s house I threw on a bra, but left his t-shirt on. Walking inside, I felt ridiculous in a baggy, navy blue cotton shirt tied at my lower back, jean shorts, and flip flops. The rest of Calusa was going to have a field day with Olivia Benson’s Sunday best.
We have our pick of tables and choose a booth to the left of the long counter running in the middle of the diner for those eating alone. Other than Brielle and I, there is one older gentleman at the counter.
Pop, the owner, hasn’t updated a damn thing and probably never will. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past him to haunt whomever gets this place once he’s gone if they try to decorate or upgrade even a little bit.
The leather booths and chairs are red with white tabletops. Light ceramic flooring is scuffed and darkened beneath the tables with chairs, years and years of dragging back and forth across them. A classic pinball machine and Pacman arcade game sits behind our booth in the corner.
Dishes clink and clatter behind the wide serving counter separating the kitchen from the long countertop in the center.
“Well I’ll be,” a sassy, charming, sweet voice comes from the left. Following the old but familiar sound of Frances’s lilt, I smile as she comes out of the swinging kitchen door. “If that ain’t a spittin’ image of Liv Benson, I don’t know what is.”
“Ms. Frances,” I say in greeting, taking in all her affable features. Nothing about this woman has changed. Short, curling gray hair covers her head with the same almost purple tint its always had because she tries to dye it herself and never gets the color right. Tall and slender and upper sixties, Frances had been waitressing at this diner for over forty years.
“I heard you were back, but considering I hadn’t seen you with my own eyes I thought for sure somebody’s been telling some tall tales. There’s just no way the Liv I remember wouldn’t come by and see me at least once.” She shakes a finger at me like a child being scorned.
Personality just as I remember it too. Firecracker.
“Sorry, Ms. Frances. This is my daughter Brielle.”
“You’re a doll, Brielle. Now what can I get you two for breakfast.”
We place our drink and food order all at once. Within a minutes time, Frances comes back with my coffee and Brielle’s orange juice. The diner’s strong brew hits my taste buds and takes me way back. It’s nothing special or spectacular, but it’s a distinct blend that no one can ever duplicate. It should be packaged and sold as a Calusa original.
The first sip goes down smooth, exploding with flavor. The second calms my nerves enough to finally breathe and let reality take its hit. Pain clenches at my heart.
“Did you and Luke break up?” Brielle asks, eyeing where my hand rubs above the beating organ.
“It’s complicated, sweetie.”
“I really liked my room,” she says sullenly, like she’ll never see it again.
“Bri, he’s your uncle. You’ll stay with him again in the future.”
“It won’t be the same. I know he’s my uncle, but the three of us were a family.”
Blinking away troublesome tears, I put on a brave face. “We were. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to be.”
“I believe you and Luke are meant to be.” Across from me she sits tall and smiles. “And he’ll come to his senses and fix it.”
“How do you know it wasn’t me that broke up with him?” I smirk. So grateful for this beautiful sunshine in my life always finding a way to make me smile when all I want to do is cry.
“Doesn’t matter. You told me once, only give my heart to someone who isn’t stupid enough to throw it away. Luke’s not stupid.”
“I love you, sweet girl.”
“Love you, too, Mommy.” She slurps at her juice, then asks, “Can we go see Grandpa after this?”
Crap.
Crappity crap crap.
“Uh. He’s not home.”
“Grandpa never leaves his house. Where’s he at?”
“Uh. He’s…” I let a long breath of air. “Bri, Grandpa’s in the hospital. I didn’t tell you because he’d rather you not see him like that.”
She circles the straw in the tangy liquid in a whirl wind motion, brown brows furrowing in concern. “Is he okay?”
“He will be. We can call him before we leave and see how he’s doing. He might be going home this morning. Janice was going to pick him up once he gets discharged.”
“Is he sick?” Blue eyes peek up at me over the glass rim of her cup. “I’ve noticed he’s a lot skinnier than when I first met him.”
“Have you now,” I mumble. When will adults learn? Children see more than we believe they do. “He fell and hit his head, but the doctors said he’s okay. And he is sick. We were going to tell you later on. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“Is he going to die?” she whispers and it breaks another part of my heart. After today there won’t be anything left of it.
“Grandpa’s going to take all the medicine the doctors can give him, and we’re going to pray and spend as much time with him as we can. That’s all we can do.”
Her sorrowful eyes shine like the oceans glassy surface on a calm and sunny day. The blue glistens in the direct daylight.
Frances returns with our plates in each of her hands. As she’s setting them down in front of us the door chimes. Lifting my gaze over the top of Brielle’s side of the booth, Brady walks in. He beelines to the front counter, flicking his eyes in our direction, and doing a double take when recognition hits.
This is fast becoming the worst weekend of my life. Dad, Luke, and now Brady. Well, Brady for a second time.
We hold each other’s stare, and I groan inwardly. He’s going to approach our table. Brielle’s going to ask him to stay. I’m going to put my mom face on and pretend none of the shit that’s gone down since four-thirty this morning is ruining my life.
“Hey, ladies,” he smiles, walking over and stopping beside Frances.
Brielle’s face turns up and her shoulders sink with shyness.
“Good morning, Brady,” I respond.
“My brother here?” he asks, twisting his head around the room.
“No. Just us girls.” Best to be as vague as possible in present company.
He nods, shoving both hands in his front pockets, rocking on the heels of his work boots.
“Wanna eat with us?” Brielle delivers a sweet smile I know to be holding more frailty than she lets on.
“Uh.” He dashes a quick glance my way. At my subtle nod, he responds, “Sure. Sounds great.”
“You can sit here.” She climbs out and over to my side of the booth. Brady takes her spot.
“The usual?” Frances asks, hand on hip. With the daggers she’s shooting his way, it’s obvious what she thinks of him. Where others around town love the gossip, Frances only cares for truths and lies. Give her one reason to doubt your character and she’s likely to hold it against you for the rest of your life. She’s like an elder female version of Mr. Darcy. Explains why I adore her so much, now that I’ve put it that way.
“Yes, thank you.” Brady dips his chin, fingers beating out a drum-like rhythm on the table. “Heading home after this?”
“We’ll check on my dad, then we’re going home.”
He nods. “How is he?”
“Not sure.” My hand brushes from the top of Bri’s head to the ends of her hair. “It was a concussion. They kept him overnight to monitor him.”
“Hope he gets well soon.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s your usual?” Bri asks.
Brady fiddles in his seat some more, but answers, “Steak and eggs.” She scrunches up her face. He laughs. “It’s not for everyone.”
“Steak is a dinner meal.”
“It’s like when you eat breakfast for dinner, though. One of those foods that’s good anytime of day.”
“Breakfast for dinner,” she ponders this, head tilting.
“Try it some time,” he shrugs.
“We can make pancakes for dinner, Mommy?”
“Uh, no. That’s too much sugar before bed,” I reply with a pointed look at Brady.
“Oh. Right. Probably not a good idea.” Guilt rests on his shoulders when he realizes that was a bad suggestion. And for the most part, I’ve joined the idea of breakfast for dinner with being drunk. Everyones stopped at a Waffle House at least once in their life around two in the morning after partying with friends. If you haven’t, then you should try it.
We eat in comfortable silence, and soon Brady’s order is up and he’s scarfing down his meal. With the way he eats, he’ll be finished at the same time as us even though his came out later. The guy never took the opportunity to actually taste his food.
Patrons start pouring in. Frances comes by to refill our coffee cups, smiling at Brielle and asking, “How ‘bout of piece of pie, sunshine?”
“Can I, Mommy?”
“Yes, but only because Ms. Frances makes the best apple pies.”
“C’mon then. Hop on up to the counter.”
Brielle gets out of the booth, following Frances to the front and hopping on a bar stool two seats down from an older couple. When my eyes drift away once she’s settled, they land on two pinched faces on the other side opposite of us.
Fantastic. Jessica and Stephanie are here.
“I just picked up a new contract out of Houston. I’ll be gone for about three months.”
My initial reaction: What do I care about how long you’ll be gone?
But then I see he’s putting in an effort as the father Brielle should have grown up with. So I take the bite.
“Is there cell service out there?”
“It’s touch and go. Maybe we can Skype. Easier that way.”
“We can do that.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk, Liv. I know you don’t have to be as willing as you are, so thank you.”
“It’s for her. If she told me she wanted nothing to do with you, Brady, you wouldn’t be getting a chance at all.”
“Understandable.”
“Why’d you leave her? How could you not have cared to see her at least once?” It’s the question I’ve always wanted to ask, but would talk myself out of because I didn’t want him to see his absence bothered us in even the smallest amount.
“‘Cause I’m selfish.” Brady gazes at Brielle with regret. “I wasn’t ready to be a dad, for the responsibility. And I know that’s not an excuse, I’m just telling you what was going through my head back then. When my mom died I had to take care of Luke, I didn’t get a say. I was shitty at that, too. We’re all lucky he came out as great of a guy he is today. But I resented him. He got to be young and dumb and party at eighteen, while I had to work to pay for food and electricity because Mom’s life insurance only covered the mortgage. When I got with you I was using that time to make up for lost time. You got pregnant and I freaked out. You left Calusa and I saw an opening.”
To be honest I didn’t expect the truth out of him. But I believed he was giving me just that.
“So why should I believe you’ll stick around this time?”
“Don’t really have an answer for that one. I just hope you still have enough faith to give me a shot.”
I have no faith in him. Before today I would have conjured up some belief for Luke’s sake. Luke won’t be in my life like that anymore so…
“Don’t ever break her heart, Brady,” I give warning to the only real reason I have left to trust him with.
He nods.
As discreet as I can be, I lift the warm mug to my lips and sip while glancing at our future generation of town gossipers. When I arrived back in Calusa three months ago I walked through town, avoiding shops and stares. I was afraid to be recognized, to become their latest target. I had enough of that growing up as the daughter of the town drunk. Now I sat here having breakfast with a coveted Bennett brother who is the father of my child and a story every person in town knows to be a juicy one at that. Just wait till they hear Luke and I are over with.
My chest pinched and ached, but for all the right reasons as weird as that may sound. Because I desperately love Luke Bennett and am heartbroken how we ended things and none of my hurt is even remotely involved with how the town will react. Let them gossip. I no longer care. My backbone is plated in titanium.
“So what’s the real reason you and Brielle are here alone?” Brady interrupts my one way stare-down with Stephanie and Jessica.
“I’m a single mom. I do everything alone.” My mug thumps on the table as I set it down.
“Not when my brother is in love with you.”
Scratching at an invisible itch, I reply. “Yeah well your brother is not as perfect as I thought him to be.”
Why did I just confide that with him?
“He’s the closest you’ll find.”
“I don’t need perfect,” I speak low and with all the sadness I’ve held back for the last hour. “I need honesty.”
“I think I called it when I said there was too much history between you and him.”
I shoot him with the deadliest of glares I’ve ever delivered.
“Sorry,” he back tracks. “All of y’all have history, but you’re all really good friends too. You just have to remember why and hold on to it.”
“That’s…very insightful, Brady.”
“I know I’m an ass, Liv, but I love my brother. I want him to be happy. You make him happy.”
“I just need some space to think.” My head falls into my hands.
“You needed space last time things got complicated, and look how that turned out.” Fingers spread out to shoot a distasteful glare at him. Brady lifts his hands outward. “I’m finally in your favor again, so I’m gonna stop there.”
“Never said you were back in my favor.”
He grins, the charming twinkle in his expression so much like Luke. “I can feel it. It’s gonna happen.”
This is the guy—smooth talking, panty dropping smile guy—I liked in the beginning of our dating years. Brady gifting me a glimpse at the real him, or old him, has promise our future as Brielle’s estranged, coexisting parents will work.
Despite our differences, I return the smile.