Family Secrets (9 page)

Over the years she has asked about her father, and each time I have diverted her attention.  The one time I did answer her properly was only just before last Christmas.  She asked me if Santa would bring her daddy to her…

8 months ago

“Jessa said her daddy always puts the star on the tree.”  At Elody’s casual remark, I pause, turning my body halfway from my position on the small ladder I’m standing on, to look down at her.  She’s placing ornaments around the bottom of the tree in no particular arrangement or order.  It’s still the best looking tree I’ve ever seen.  Then again, I say that every year.  Decorated with shiny balls and ornaments we’ve purchased together over the years, equally matched with knick-knacks Elody has made at daycare.  Every year it just gets better.  A live, full of love, expression of our little family.  That is what our tree represents.

Dropping the star to my side, I step down from the ladder and sit at the base of the tree beside my daughter.  Picking up the very first ornament I ever bought her, tears fill my eyes.  It’s heavy, quality-made.  Light pink with a satin sheen. 
Baby Girl’s First Christmas
is scrawled on the front.  On top of the ball, sits a beautiful ornament of newborn baby in a cradle.

“This was the first Christmas decoration I ever bought you,” I tell her.  She grins over at me.  I tell her that each Christmas when we’re decorating the tree and we hang that particular ornament. 

Picking up the red, wooden elf decoration, she attaches it to a branch.  “Do you think Santa will bring my daddy home for Christmas?”  She hangs the red ball ornament we purchased to support a charity two years ago during a fundraising drive.

I swallow the lump in my throat.  “I think Santa knows that sometimes in life mommies have to make decisions that can be difficult.  But, what
you
,” I pause to give her a tickle, “need to remember is that when mommy makes those decisions she always has your best interests at heart.  So, even if Santa can’t bring your dad to you, it’s for a very good reason.  You might not understand that reason until you’re older, but you still need to remember how much I love you.  That’s the most important thing.  No matter what, I will always love you. Forever.” 

She seems content with my reply and starts stringing the lights around the base of the tree.  I, however, feel completely out of my depth and like I just gave the worst, out-of-my-ass speech that ever existed.  One that didn’t make any sense at all, and was a complete waste of breath.

“Can we make cookies today to leave out for Santa?”

“How about we make cookies for Santa
next
week before he is due to come.  Today we can make cookies for
us
to eat.” I grin.

“Yay,” she cheers, wrapping her slender arms around my neck.  “I love you, Momma.”

*~*

We’re fifteen minutes early, but I wanted this time to explain to Elody a bit about what is going to happen.

Turning around in my seat, I look over at her and smile as pride fills my chest.  It does that every time I look at her, or even every time I think about her.  I have so much love for her.  More love than I ever thought was possible to feel.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” I start.  “Actually, why don’t you unbuckle your seat and come and sit with me. I need a hug.”

“Okay, Mommy.”  She climbs over and into my lap.  I hold her close and kiss her little shoulder. 

“You’re getting to be such a big girl now,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.  “Okay, so I have something serious to talk to you about.”  I give her a squeeze and mental slap myself around the head. 
I can do this.

“There’s someone special who wants to meet you, and I’m pretty sure you would love to meet him, too.”

Her eyes go wide and a smile brightens her entire face.  “Who is it?  Is it Santa? No…Oh! I know, the Easter Bunny?”

“No, it isn’t Santa or the Easter Bunny.  It’s… your dad.” 
I want to vomit.

“Really?” she whispers.

“Yeah, baby.  Are you okay with that?  You can be honest with me.  I know this is a big shock for you, but I want to make sure you’re okay and not confused or anything.  If you’re afraid and don’t want to meet him today, then we can do this some other time.”

“Is he here already? Can we go say hi now?”  she asks excitedly, bouncing around in my lap.

I chuckle, though it probably looks more like a grimace.  “Okay, then.  Let’s go inside and see if he has arrived.  Be on your best behavior please,” I add the last part in my sternest mommy voice.

“I will,” she chirps, already climbing out of the vehicle.  “I’m so excited,” she shrieks.  “I’m going to meet my daddy,” she whispers to herself.

Together, hand in hand, we walk into the café.  Elody is bouncing with excitement, and I’m shaking with nerves.

“Is he here? Do you see him?” She looks around wildly.

“No, baby.  He isn’t here yet.  Let’s get a table and wait.”

“He’s coming, isn’t he, mom?” she asks in a small voice.  I reach across the table to her, resting my hand on hers. 

“He’s definitely coming, baby.  We’re early.  He’ll be here soon.”

The waitress comes by and asks us for our drink orders.  Elody orders a chocolate shake, while I go with a coffee.  Just as the waitress walks away to fill our order, I look over Elody’s head to the door and all the air leaves my lungs in a rush as Brock enters.  He looks good. 
Really
good.  He’s wearing jeans and a red tee-shirt that has the name of a football team across the front of it.  He spots us immediately and begins striding toward us with purpose.  Nervously, I look to Elody, but she’s oblivious with her back to him.  Just before he reaches our table, I look back to him.

He sees the nervousness and apprehension on my face and gives me a small, easy smile.  He comes to a standstill behind Elody’s chair so she still can’t see him. 
He’s giving me the lead.  Letting me play this my way
.

“Uh, Elody, honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Mom,” I chide. 

“Yes, Mom,” she repeats.

“There’s someone here who would like to meet you,” I say gently.  “Turn around, baby.”

She spins around fast, almost falling off the chair.  Brock’s hand darts out and he steadies her.  I watch in complete, enraptured, frozen fascination.  I hear her gasp, but the only thing I can see is Brock’s face.  His eyes go soft, his mouth goes a little lax, and then he breaks out in a heart-stealing smile.

“Hi, Elody.  It’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Hi,” she replies, her voice full of wonder.

“Can I take a seat?” Brock asks.

Elody nods her head vigorously and turns around.

The waitress brings our drinks and I smile apologetically at Brock.  “Sorry, we ordered our drinks already.”

“That’s okay.”  He glances over at Elody’s glass then looks to the waitress.  “I’ll have a chocolate shake, please.”

“How was your day?” I ask him.

“Busy, as usual.  How was yours?”

“Good, thank you.  Busy,” I concede.

“I go to daycare,” Elody pipes in.  “Miss Tracey is my teacher and she’s really fun.  She’s going on a plane soon,” she gushes.

“That sounds exciting. Have you ever been on a plane?”

“No.  But, I want to.  Mom says one day we can.  We’re going to fly to the beach and tan our milky butts.”

I laugh.  I’ve said that to her many times.  Elody takes a sip of her drink and while she’s amused, Brock takes the opportunity to whisper in my ear. 

“I think your butt’s the perfect color as it is.”

I splutter my coffee and clear my throat.  He smirks; knowing the beet-red of my cheeks is his doing.

The rest of the afternoon goes surprisingly well.  We order food and eat it.  Brock and Elody talk a lot and ask each other a bunch of questions.  They’re so alike, and seeing them side by side only reinforces that fact.  By the time we’ve been here for two hours, I am a whole lot more relaxed and I notice a distinct family dynamic appearing.  Elody is absolutely reveling in the attention that Brock is heaping on her.  She’s basking in his approval and lapping up his praise.

“You can come to my house for dinner!” Elody announces.  “Mommy can cook and we can eat it at my special pink table that I got for Christmas.  My Barbie can sit with us, too.”

“Uh, I think Brock, I mean, uh, your dad, has other plans, honey,” I stammer.

“I don’t, actually,” Brock says casually.

“See, Mom?! He doesn’t! He can come, can’t he?  You can come, can’t you? Please?” She bounces around between us.  “Please,” she whines.

“I guess that will be fine.  As long as Br, uh, your dad, has no other plans.”

“Yay!” she squeals.

“I’ll give you my address so you can come around later.  Say around six-thirty?”

“I’d love to,” he says genuinely.

With a silent sigh of resignation, I text him our address and then Elody and I make the short drive home, stopping off on the way to grab supplies to make a stir-fry for dinner. 

NOW

“Mom, where’s my pink tutu dress?  The one with the flowers,” Elody yells from her room.  She’s been running around like a madwoman for the past half an hour as she struggles to find something to wear.

“Mom!  Where’s my purple hairband with the shiny things?  And my sparkly pumps?”

God help me.

“Not sure, Elody.  Look under your bed.”

“I did!” I hear her foot stomp.  “I can’t find them
anywhere
,” she whines.

“Righto, kiddo, that’s enough,” I say sternly when I reach her bedroom.  “You need to calm down.  Find something to wear and stick with it.  Your dad doesn’t care what you’re wearing; all he cares about is seeing you.  Spending time with you.  Not your outfits.  Now, pick something, put it on, and then clean this mess up,” I say, taking note of the state of her bedroom.

“Yes, Momma.”

I leave her be and walk back out to the kitchen.  I lie out all the vegetables on the counter and begin slicing.  Twenty minutes later, everything is prepped and Elody is waiting patiently on the sofa as she watches the television without seeing.  The doorbell rings and Elody immediately looks to me for confirmation.

“Go ahead,” I urge her with a nod when I see Brock standing on the other side of our stained-glass door.

She opens the door wide and he fills the entry-way.  My stupid,
stupid
heart flutters in my chest, skipping beats and palpitating.  He bends down and presents Elody with a single orange gerbera.

“Thank you,” she says, grinning broadly.

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”  He stands again and holds out more flowers.  A bunch, this time, for me.

“Thank you, Brock. You didn’t have to.”  I take the flowers and bring them to my nose. 
Gorgeous.
  White and pink lilies.  My favorite.

“I wanted to.  Thank you for having me.”

“Of course.  Come on in.”

“I love your dress, Elody. You look beautiful,” I hear him compliment her and my heart swoons as I imagine the way Elody savors his praise.

Dinner goes surprisingly well, and by eight-fifteen, Elody is sound asleep on the sofa, curled up under Brock’s arm.  I grab my camera. 

“Would you mind?” I ask, holding it up.

“Not at all.”

I snap a bunch of pictures from a range of angles.

“Make sure you send me a copy.”

“Of course,” I reply.  “I’ll just put her to bed.”  I lift her up and carry her into her room. 

“Let me?  Please?” I startle when I hear Brock’s voice behind me.

“Oh, um, sure.” I step out of the way, crossing my arms around my waist, and watch as he leans down and places a tender kiss on Elody’s forehead before whispering something into her ear.  Then he brings the covers up to her chin and strokes the side of her face with the back of his hand.  When he is done having his time, I lean over and kiss my little girl goodnight,  flicking the light off, and pulling the door almost closed.

“Would you like a coffee?  I don’t have any beer, but I do have some wine, if you’d prefer.”

“Coffee would be good,” he replies, following me out into the kitchen area.

I fix us both a mug and we move out onto the back deck to drink them.  Bringing my feet up to the edge of the chair, I rest my chin on my knees and look out into the darkness.

“You’ve got a beautiful home, Cassi,” he comments, before taking a sip of his drink.

“Thank you. We love it here.  Do you live far?”

“I don’t actually.  When I took over the company, I moved into an office not far from here.”

“That will be good for Elody, knowing you’re nearby.  She’ll want to see you often,” I say conversationally, all the while my heart is beating out of my chest with nerves.  “If you want,” I add quickly when he stays silent.

“I would love that, Cassi. I plan on being a very active part of her life from here on out.  I’ve missed far too much.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“What exactly do you do?” I ask.  I know he runs a company, but I have no idea what the business is about.

“Basically, we buy properties dirt-cheap from vendors who are facing bankruptcy, usually.  Then, we either demolish the property and rebuild, or we sink money into the existing premises, and then resell for the highest dollar.  We have a few other smaller ventures, but that’s our main line of business,” he explains.

“That sounds like a rewarding and very skillful job.”

“It is.  Luck plays a part as well.  Being in the right place at the right time, so to speak.” 

We sit in silence for a while.  The kind of silence that is bordering on awkward, but not totally uncomfortable.  I finish my coffee and set my mug down.

“Do you ever think about us?  The way things were between us?” he asks, shocking me.

Do I be honest or do I lie? 
Screw it, be honest.

“Yes,” I answer softly.

“Me too.  We can have that back, Cassidy.  It’s still there between us, the electricity, the connection, I know you feel it too.  Give us a chance.”

“Brock,” I start, shaking my head.  “This is way more complicated than a connection.  There’s a lot at stake, a lot to risk, and I’m not sure it’s all worth risking.”

“You want to be the kind of person who lives their life not experiencing everything to the fullest?  That’s bullshit, Cassidy.  Take a chance on me.  Take a chance on
us.
”

Do I want to be with Brock?  The short answer is yes.  Absolutely.  But, there’s so much more to it than that.  There are all these little facets of feelings and emotions that all stack up against my need to
want
to be with him.  There is a complex range of issues that would require attending to before we even
thought
about embarking on a relationship.  First and foremost the fact that he is, for all intents and purposes, my stepbrother.  Even though we’re both adults and don’t live under the same roof, his father is married to my mother.

“Give us a chance at being a family, Cassidy,” Brock implores when I stay silent.

Elody would love that.
  More than anything in the world, she would want this.  Can I do it? 

“What about your family?”  I ask.  Since my mother kicked me out, I know longer think of her as my parent.  Elody is the only family I have.

“Don’t worry about all of that, Cassi.  Just worry about who is here, in the house, right now.  Everything else can be worried about later, but for now, let’s concentrate on this, right here.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon to be rushing into this sort of commitment?”

“Too soon?” he thunders.

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss.

“Too fucking soon?  I’ve missed five goddamn years, Cassidy.”

“I realize that, Brock, and I’ve apologized.  However, you don’t have to be with me to be a father to Elody.  You’re free to spend as much time with her as you please.”

“No, you’re not hearing me.  I’ve missed five years, Cassi.  With
both
of you.”

Swoon.

“Okay,” I say hesitantly.

“Okay?” he asks hopefully.

“Okay,” I say, nodding and smiling.  The heavy weight I’ve been carrying in my chest lightens and so does my overall mood.  I feel…happy?  Yes, I feel happy.  And it feels freaking awesome.