Chapter 27—Red Zone

Tyler put his hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. The dim-witted, gorgeous blonde model glued to his side posed for a photographer and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. All the while, she kept her face turned toward the camera. Once the photographer moved away to other celebrities, the brilliant smile plastered on her face turned upside down into an ugly scowl.

Tyler raised an eyebrow at her. She pouted and tapped one toe on the marble floor of whatever Hollywood mansion they happened to be partying in that night. He was way too sober to deal with this brainless twit. He regretted agreeing to escort the silicone babe, but his agent pushed until he’d conceded.

“I’m bored. Let’s move on.” She stuck out her lower lip, which had Botox pumped into it until it looked like a landing pad.

“Be my guest.” Tyler couldn’t wait to ditch her, the sooner the better.

“Be your guest?”

“Yeah, I’ve had enough. I’m flying home. Tonight,” he added for emphasis. He shook her off his arm and strode toward the door. She ran after him and yanked him around.

“You can’t walk out on me like this. I’m somebody, and I need an escort for the evening even if you are a dumb jock.”

“Well, this dumb jock doesn’t give a shit if you’re the fu—effing Princess of Wales.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you noticed.” He tipped an invisible hat. Tyler headed toward the door only to stop dead at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Ty. How are you?”

Tyler turned around slowly. “I’m good, Cass. And you?” He waited for the old feelings of desire and raw hunger to come flooding back to him. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened.

“I’ve never been happier. This is my husband, Sam.”

The two men shook hands. Tyler felt not even a twinge of jealousy.

“Congratulations, I’m truly glad for you.” He meant every word. He smiled at Cass, a genuine smile. She looked good, actually happy, as she clutched her husband’s arm. The man gazed down at her like a man in love. Cass returned her husband’s look, devotion shining in her eyes. She’d never looked at Tyler like that. They’d either been fighting or making up, but never anything in between.

Stepping forward, Cass hugged Tyler, and he hugged her back. Her familiar scent tugged at his heartstrings, but more melancholy than regret.

“Well, I just wanted to say hi when I saw you across the room. Take care.” An awkward silence set in, and Tyler took the hint.

“Good to see you, Cass.” He escaped out the door and signaled for his ride. He settled into the limo and stared out the window, digesting it all.

When he saw Cass and her husband together, the only thing he felt was envy. Not envy because he wanted Cass, but envy because he wanted Lavender to look at him like Cass looked at her husband. He wanted Lavender on his arm as they walked through a black-tie affair, making it clear to everyone they were a couple. He wanted it all, but she obviously didn’t feel the same, at least not enough to take a chance on a reformed asshole or deal with her demons.

For the last two months, Tyler had dived into football, the first one at the practice facility in the morning and the last one to leave at night. The tension with Murphy didn’t subside; if anything, it worsened, dividing the team even further.

He didn’t have his game back, couldn’t get in the zone, but he improved a little bit every day. That’s all a guy could expect. Tyler wasn’t giving up. It’d take some work to win back his old confidence and the team’s respect and trust.

In his spare time, he volunteered with a couple of veterans organizations, visiting VA hospitals and nursing homes, not to mention working with young cancer patients. He played cards with a group of veterans once a week, and they loved to razz him about anything and everything. The kids at the children’s hospital lit up when he walked in the room, reading to them or just hanging out playing video games. He felt good about himself for the first time in a long time.

He rarely had more than one drink a night, left the parties early and alone. They weren’t part of his life anymore. He didn’t get any satisfaction from superficial crap. He’d cut way back on his spending, invested his Super Bowl bonus instead of blowing it, and sold a couple vacation houses to help fund the mansion rehab. All in all, his bank account started its slow recovery from anemic to financially secure.

Tonight he’d fly back to Seattle and his fu—frigging cat. Hell, he’d even managed to confine his use of the F word to special occasions.

Either time would heal his wounds—and so far that wasn’t working for him—or make Lavender’s heart grow fonder, fond enough she’d hunt him down.

And if she didn’t hunt him down, he’d know the truth behind her feelings. Proud men didn’t beg. If he had one thing left, it happened to be his pride.

* * * * *

For two months, Lavender denied everything. She denied missing Tyler. She denied her mother might not have been straight with her about her father. She denied she truly missed her father. And she denied that she wanted to know the truth.

She immersed herself in her work with her seniors and enrolled in an online course in the gerontology field. Eventually she’d get a degree, maybe in nursing. It was long past time to grow up and figure out what she was doing with the rest of her life.

A summer storm hit her little house, forcing her inside. Across the pasture, the workmen hurried in and out of the old mansion, carrying tools and supplies. She’d love to see the inside, but she kept her distance. Besides, the person she wanted to see wasn’t in residence. Every time she looked out the window she hoped to see his big truck, but nothing. He’d left, and he’d forgotten all about her. She’d seen some of the pictures online of him at parties, and they broke her heart.

The envelope she’d stashed under the couch two months ago beckoned to her. Lavender hesitated. In her family’s case, ignorance might be bliss—or not.

Setting her jaw, she got down on her knees and rummaged under the couch. She pulled out the overstuffed manila envelope and shook the dust bunnies off it. Housekeeping had never been her strong suit. Ripping open the envelope, Lavender poured the contents onto the coffee table and began to riffle through them.

Unopened letters and cards addressed to Lavender from her father were scattered across the old coffee table’s marred surface. Return to sender was scrawled across each one in her mother’s handwriting. A decade of birthday and Christmas cards Lavender had never received. As she examined each item, more damning evidence came to light.

The cold blade of betrayal sliced through her. She felt physically ill, like she’d come down with the flu or some kind of bug. Yeah, the betrayal bug. Clutching her stomach, she stumbled to a chair and sat down with a thud.

Her mother led her to believe her father didn’t care, that he’d abandoned her, in order to keep her daughter under control and her father out of her life. The selfishness of her mother overwhelmed her.

Her hands shook as she picked up another piece of paper, an accounting of the child support her father paid over the years. Another of her mother’s lies shattered by cold, hard proof.

The deed on the property came next. Another lie unveiled. Her mother had collected rent on a house she didn’t own.

An opened envelope addressed to her father in her mother’s handwriting caught her attention. The postmark indicated a date just before her high school graduation. She pulled out the one-page letter and read it.

Lavender asked me to write to you. Please do not contact her. She wishes no further contact with you in any way, shape, or form, especially at her graduation. She does not consider you her father. Please do not cause our family any further pain with your selfish actions. Leave us alone. Brenda

Icy cold ran through her. A tear slipped down her cheek and onto the letter, blurring a few words. Lavender crumpled the letter in her fist. It slid from her fingers to the floor. She hugged herself and rocked back and forth.

She’d sat on that stage at graduation and watched for her father, growing more and more depressed as each moment passed.

Selfish? Her mother called her father selfish for attempting to contact her? She’d swallowed her mother’s lies. All these years, she’d been denied a relationship with her father and brother because her mother wouldn’t share her children.

Brenda had lied about everything.

Lavender stared at the proof littering the top of the table. She’d patterned her life according to her mother’s wishes. She’d blindly believed everything she was told and never attempted to uncover the truth for herself.

Now it was time to live her life, not her mother’s version of it, and damn the consequences. There was room in her heart for both parents, and she was ready to forgive.

* * * * *

Lavender paced the floor and fretted, twisting her ring harder than ever. One thing at a time. First her mother. Then her father. Then Tyler?

Brenda swept into the room, a huge smile on her face, and hugged her daughter. She didn’t seem to notice Lavender didn’t hug her back. Larry said nothing and took a seat across the room. Lavender hadn’t seen it before, but she did now. Larry didn’t seem to have a mind of his own. He did Brenda’s bidding.

Tight-lipped, Lavender stood as tall as a short person could and put some space between them. She clutched a crumpled letter in one hand. Without a word, she gave it to Brenda. Brenda glanced at it then did a double take. Her face turned white as she recognized the contents.

“Lavender, I can explain. I did this for your own good.” Brenda reached out for her daughter, but Lavender evaded her. She saw her mother’s actions as they really were, just another way to manipulate her.

“No, Mom. You did it for you. Not me.” She twisted her ring harder, ignoring the ache in her finger and her heart.

“Honey, everything I do has been for you. I’ve sacrificed everything for you.” Brenda’s words rang false, draining her mother’s power over her. Lavender hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d allowed her mother to control her life.

“Does that include hiding this stuff from me and collecting rent on a property you don’t own?” Lavender pointed at the various cards and letters littering the table. Frowning, Larry rose from his chair and crossed to the table. He picked up the deed.

“You don’t own this property?” Larry stared at Brenda as if he’d never seen her before.

Brenda blanched and went on the defensive, ignoring Larry. “You’ve been talking to your father.”

“No, I haven’t, but I’m going to.” She stared her mother in the eyes. She’d taken control of her life and was standing up to her mother. As hard as it was, she felt empowered.

“You wouldn’t betray me like that. I’ve always been there for you.” Brenda’s cold voice contained a warning, but Lavender had prepared for the worst.

“It’s not a matter of betrayal, Mom. If you won’t support me, at least tolerate my desire to have a relationship with my father. Be happy for me. Don’t make me choose. I want you both in my life. I wish you’d see it that way.” Lavender’s voice broke, but she held to her convictions.

“I don’t see it that way. Not at all. You’ve disappointed me and broken my heart.” Turning on her heel, Brenda grabbed Larry’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Casting an apologetic glance over his shoulder, Larry, still looking shell-shocked, followed Brenda out the door. Her mother made her choice and Lavender would make hers. She didn’t cry. She didn’t break down. She found an inner strength she didn’t know she had and made a phone call. One she should’ve made years ago.