As promised, Saturday morning we got in the car and drove south.
We checked in to a hotel in the next town over where I sequestered myself in the compact bathroom of our room for a solid fifteen minutes before Brielle’s patience wore out.
Choosing a hotel thirty minutes away from Calusa had been intentional. A way of giving me the space I guarantee I would need after today.
I did my best to shelter Brielle from the worlds substantial flaws. One could say I was a tad overprotective. Going home to my drunk of a father could be a cultural shock for her.
Don’t get me wrong, I drink wine, and she often see’s me inhaling a couple bottles a week, but wine does not allow me to overindulge the way my dad did. Alcohol is the one area I’ve been adamant to keep her away from. The jitters consuming me were not only about her first impression of him, but his response to me after all this time.
Brielle sat in awe in the back seat as we entered my old home town. Main street was filled with red brick buildings, all one story. The streets were filled with cars, but none like she’s used to at home. Most were worn down and rusty hunks of junk. People drove slow, walked across the street at any given spot, and even I had to admit there was a certain calming vibe upon entering the town that we would never feel in Tampa.
To my immediate right, on the corner of the crossroads single traffic light, rested the only car repair shop in town. On a whim I pulled in.
A lot could change in six years, but I wasn’t taking the chance of Brielle seeing Brady if he still worked at Neiland’s Garage. I left the car running, asking Brielle to stay inside—something I would never feel comfortable doing in the city—and walked by myself to the front desk.
At least the Neilands schedules were the same. Cathy sat right inside the door, shocking the hell out her when I walked in. She scurried around the counter, clutching me in a tight, warm, and welcoming hug. Her elated joy put some of my nerves at ease.
When I told her we were here for my dad, Cathy’s eyes watered. She approved, and it threw me a little.
Growing up, she didn’t conceal her disdain at my dad’s failings. If anything, she was more vocal than she should have been, so to see her happy that I was willing to reconcile had my mind splitting with a million different questions about why.
Her emotions were more reserved, however, when I asked if Della still lived in town.
She smiled, but it was more a sad smile. Sad that we lost touch, that we grew apart.
I walked back to my car with a folded piece of paper in my hand.
As I weighed heavy on where we should go first, my dad’s or Della’s, I asked Brielle if she wanted to walk through town and window shop.
We parked at one end, stepping onto the sidewalk and strolling with ease as she took everything in.
There was a salon, a barber, a coffee shop, a dry-cleaner slash seamstress, and a bakery I remember launching my strawberry milkshake obsession.
I started to offer Brielle a quick pit stop for a treat, but apprehension gripped tightly on my tongue and kept me from saying anything. Already I recognized familiar faces, and based on the reactions of a few women, they were recognizing me too.
The girl who got pregnant by one Bennett and made a pass at the other.
The girl that betrayed her best friend.
Olivia Benson, the scandal of 2012, was back in town.
Right when I was starting to feel like I missed this small town life, I wasn’t so sure any longer. I wanted Brielle to enjoy all of this, but at the same time I worried word would spread and get back to Brady.
So we kept walking.
We ran into a trio of elderly ladies on the other side of the street. Unlike the girls from my own generation, these women were polite and doted on Brielle. Commented on our beauty, and how time flies, and yada yada yada. Their sweet behavior was not fooling me. These old ladies are sharks. Always looking for the next gossip to run rampant with.
We got out of there before they moved on to the heavy stuff. Like discussing Brielle’s father in front of her. Once we were back inside the car, I decided to bite the bullet and go to Della’s house first. Brielle seemed eager and up for anything.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Della is already expecting me. Between her mom and the gossiping ninnies, the beans have probably been spilled.
Flipping open the white note with Neiland’s logo at the top, I read the street name off in my head. The area Della lives in these days are on the other side of town. It’s more farm land and ranch style homes. Nothing like the neighborhoods we grew up in. As a matter of fact, we were always snubbed by those kids from that part of town. The drive out there is longer than circling in-town a couple times.
We leave the cluttered streets, passing the diner I used to work at. I point it out to Brielle, and of course, she asks if we can eat there.
The landscape starts stretching, fewer homes, fewer shops, and more greenery. In the backseat, my daughter points out every farm animal that catches her eye.
From the road I can see a Tuscan style home with a terra-cotta red roof. The numbers are visible and clear, but I triple check the address written on the paper.
Is it possible Mrs. Neiland is pranking me? If not, then Della and Luke have definitely done good for themselves over the years.
You don’t know if they are still together.
My car circles the driveway, stopping at the base of large stairs leading to the front doors. Astonishment has overtaken my nerves.
“Mommy, are we getting out?”
“Uh. Yep.” I pick up my jaw from where it fell in my lap, and get out of the car. At Brielle’s door, I open it for her to hop out.
“That’s a big house,” she says, head falling back as she stares from bottom to top.
“Yes, it is.” I copy her, tilting back to take it all in.
The yellow stone structure is bigger than any other home I’ve ever known of in our small town. Two stories, the luxurious home spreads wide with large pillars and a balcony overlooking the front yard. Palms trees and an extravagant water fountain take up the focal point of the driveway.
Definitely no ranch home.
Della had been in school to become a nurse, and Luke joined the military. How the hell did they have a home like this?
Lottery. That had to be it. They won the lottery.
We climbed the ten feet of stairs to the front double doors, and I ring the door bell.
Nothing but quiet greeted us from the other side. I started chewing on my bottom lip when a minute passed. It would be my luck to get enough courage to even come here and no one is home.
“Maybe you should ring the door bell again,” Brielle suggests.
“I don’t think anyones home.”
“What if they didn’t hear it?”
Before I could come up with another excuse as to why I didn’t need to ring the bell again, loud footsteps from inside stampede through the house.
The door swings wide open revealing a boy close to Brielle’s age. He’s about the same height with blonde hair and brown eyes. While he stands there holding onto the door knob, my stomach flips. I can’t look beyond his dark brown gaze.
I’d been so hung up on the idea of Della and Luke being married by now that I never considered the chance of there being children.
“Hi.” His chipper voice squeaks with a jovial greeting.
I can’t imagine the look on my face right now, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be so cheery with a stranger staring down at me.
Brielle speaks when I can’t find any words to say.
“Hello.”
“What’s your name? I’m—”
“Ethan Colt, what have I said about answering the door without Mommy or Daddy.” Della’s stern voice carries from somewhere deeper in the house. My heart starts racing. She’s getting closer. “What if someone snatched you and—”
She gasps loud, cutting off the chastising she was handing her son. Frozen in the space behind Ethan, her hands cover her gaping mouth.
My old friend is even more gorgeous than I remembered. Bright auburn hair frames her face, the short cut a polar opposite look since the last time I saw her and it ran down her back. Wearing that yoga mom look with leggings and a tight tank top, her long, willowy body hasn’t changed one bit.
I want to smile, I want to give her a giant hug, and I want to be accepted back in, but the fact remains that she hated me when I left.
So I wait. I wait for her lead.
Her green eyes are glued on me, large and stunned. They drop to Brielle, and her hands fall away from her face down to cover her heart.
Looking back at me, she whispers, “Liv. You’re back.”
I nod, emotions flooding me all at once.
We stand there in silence longer than restless children will allow.
“I’m Brielle,” my daughter’s voice snaps me back to where we are. On Della’s fancy front doorstep with our kids that neither of us has met before.
“Brielle,” Ethan says, testing her name. “Can I call you Bri?”
She nods. “My mommy calls me that.”
“Cool. Wanna see my new race track?”
“Like, for cars?” she scrunches her nose is distaste.
“Yeah.” He scratches his chin. “I have a pink car you can play with.”
“The color doesn’t change that it’s still a car. But okay.” She shrugs, satisfied.
“Can I play with Bri, Mom?” he asks Della.
Man, I wish making friends as an adult was as easy as these two made it for themselves.
“Please, come in.” Della steps aside, inviting us into her home.
Her foyer is larger than my dining room and kitchen combined. The white, glossy tile expands far and opens into an even larger living room. Stairs stretch up the right side of the wall, curving at the top and opening in to a balcony.
“My track is in my room. Is it okay if Bri comes with me?” Ethan looks at me for approval.
“Sure. Go ahead. Have fun.”
They take off, climbing the stairs, running across the balcony and disappearing down a hall.
Without our buffers, the atmosphere becomes stale.
I look everywhere but her. At the dark wood round table in the center of the foyer with white and yellow flowers sitting in a beautiful crushed silver vase. Sunlight pours in from above the doorway. One large window from up top, and one on each side of the wide doors.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I follow her through the living room, to the left and into a massive kitchen. A long, imposing island counter sits directly in the middle. Tall chairs line the white and gray marble top. I admire her chef style kitchen with longing, and curiosity. The Della I remember couldn’t cook worth a damn. Luke must be the cook in their family.
She walks over to an intricate looking coffee machine, pops a pod in, and brews one cup at a time. I’ve seen a Keurig, we have one at work so I’m familiar, but this machine surpasses those cups.
I take a seat at the end. When she places two mugs, creamer, and sugar on the counter, Della pulls the chair two down from mine out to sit in.
“You’re back,” Della whispers once again.
“Just for the weekend.” I add my cream and sugar and take a sip.
“Brielle’s adorable. She looks exactly like you.”
I smile. “Ethan’s a little cutie too. Very friendly.”
“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “He’s loud and never stops talking. Just like his dad.”
My chest tweaks ever so softly.
“Your house is unbelievable, Della. It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
Awkward silence interrupts the small talk.
“I didn’t expect you to still be living in town. Thought it was long shot when I stopped by the garage.”
“Where are you living now?”
“Tampa.”
“Wow. You’ve only been a couple of hours away this whole time…”
Despite her words of surprise, I don’t hear that emotion filling them. If anything, there’s a lack of emotion entirely.
“Why now?” she asks.
“Brielle asked to meet her grandfather.”
Della watches me carefully over the rim. “You go by there yet?”
“No. Once we leave here we will.”
Her coffee cup sits in front of her. She stares into the dark liquid, running a finger from her left hand along the rim. You’d have to be blind not to notice the sparkling diamond resting against her ring finger.
I zone out. Falling into the many facets, seeing all the images of what might have been.
“The wedding is in May.” My eyes snap back to her face. Della’s gaze goes from me to her ring, lifting the finger and admiring it like it’s brand new. “Ethan was a surprise. He’s four.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. We’ve put it off a long time. Not because we had doubt. He’s the love of my life.”
I swallow the cotton built up on my tongue, washing it down with coffee.
Clearing my throat, I ask. “I told Brielle about Luke recently. If there’s a way, I’d appreciate it if she could meet him before we leave tomorrow.”
It kills me, because I feel like I’m asking for permission to see Luke, but I remind myself this is for Brielle. He’s her uncle. Even if Della would rather I not be around her fiancé, I won’t let her ruin it for my daughter.
The kids chose that moment to come running down from upstairs. Their hands were filled with toys. We turned in our seats to watch them plop down on the floor in the living room and pick up where they left off. Ethan makes explosion noises, and Brielle giggles.
“I’ve never seen her take to another kid like that,” I ponder aloud.
“She doesn’t have friends where you live?”
“Not really. She went to sleepover once. I had to go pick her up in the middle of the night. The kids in her class aren’t being very nice from what she’s told me.”
“Mm. Well, those are our kids. And we were great friends once. Makes sense they get along, too.”
I turn to look at Della. We share a peaceful smile. Not full absolution, but it’s a start. A small amount of weight I’ve carried from the past lifts from my shoulders.
“If y’all don’t have dinner plans, you should come back here tonight.”
“We don’t.”
“Luke will be here. Brielle can meet her uncle.”
Okay, that was easier than I expected.
“She’d love that.”
It’s inconceivable to be sitting here with the one person I used to be my most comfortable with and having a hard time finding the correct words to say.
“If you wondered at all, Brady’s not here. You won’t run into him anywhere in town,” Della tells me. I watch her look over at the kids. “We put it together that he walked out on Brielle. A lot went down, but we knew you wouldn’t intentionally keep your child from their father. She’s better off anyway. He’s a total loser these days.”
“We walked through town earlier, and I couldn’t stop worrying that we’d run into him.”
“Has she ever met him? Other than when she was a newborn, I mean.”
I grimace. “Brady took off when I was still carrying Brielle.”
“What?” Her mouth parts with shock.
“I don’t know what he told you guys, but Brady’s never seen Brielle. He helped me get into an apartment and bought a few baby items, and then just quit coming around. I called him at the garage a few times until he started screening my calls. One of the mechanics answered the last time I called. I told him to give Brady the message that his daughter was born. We never heard from him.”
“That asshole!” She whisper shouts so the kids don’t hear. “We knew he was lying about everything he told people around town, but he left you alone?”
“What was he saying?” I grew more angry by the second.
“He told everyone you left the hospital with the baby when he wasn’t there.”
“That is not true. He never came back. And Brady knew where we were the entire time.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t believe this. It’s a good thing he’s not here. Luke is going to be furious.”
“No wonder everyone was looking at me curiously earlier.”
“Yeah, they think you stole Brady Bennett’s kid when the reality is he ran away from his responsibility. You must hate him.”
“I’ve been furious for six years for Brielle’s sake. She deserved better in the beginning, but we made it work. I’ve been a single mom because he felt he had a choice in parenthood. I didn’t completely hate him, but now I do.”
My anger stewed, boiled, and spit out piping hot fury. How could he make up those lies? Telling people I grew up with that I was essentially a kidnapper. I’m really surprised no one called the cops as soon as they recognized me.
“Mom.” Ethan yells across the room. “Can Bri and her mommy come with us to have lunch with Dad?”
“I think they have plans already.” Della looks over at me, concern heavy in her eyes. I’m pissed at Brady, and I’m trying to cool it down before I snap. “But they’re coming back tonight for dinner.”
“Awesome. My dad is the best cook ever,” Ethan exclaims, turning back to Brielle.
“We should get going, Bri.” I call out to her.
It seems they have lunch plans with Luke, and I need to cool down. Back in town for all of five minutes and I’m falling apart. This place is cursed.
“Are you okay?” Della asks me.
“Yes and no,” I tell her honestly. “Where is Brady, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He works on an oil rig in the Gulf. Gone for months at time.”
As much as I would love to kick his ass, it’s better that he’s not here.
“Thanks for the coffee.” I stand from the stool. Locking eyes with Della, I put aside my anger for Brielle’s piece of garbage father. “And for welcoming us in your home. I really expected you to shut the door in my face.”
“It was a long time ago, Liv. Let’s just move forward from here. I want to make amends. Fix all the wrongs I’ve done in the past.”
I shake my head at her strange choice of words. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Della. I failed to communicate as your best friend. I made the mistakes. I hope you can forgive me.”
She smiles, holding her arms out.
I hug her, and we both start laughing.
“Let’s not be awkward anymore,” she says. “We just need to pick up where we left off. We can do that right?”
“I don’t see why not.”
This is good. She’s accepting me back. Brielle has made a friend. I’m hoping my dad will be as welcoming as Della was. At least, this visit has settled my worry about going to his house next.
Brady is gone, which is good, because I’m likely to go ballistic on him.
It’s all working out very nicely.
Brielle will meet Luke tonight. Her uncle. Della’s fiancé. Ethan’s dad. And my…
My hand reflexively presses into the ache underneath my chest.
He’s my nothing.