Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Brook

Ilaid Ariel down in her cradle and began pacing in the nursery. I really loved this job. After only two weeks I was getting so attached to her that it wasn’t even funny. I even came to the conclusion that Drue wasn’t so bad after all, during the interview he’d seemed demanding, but I’d realized it was just that he was still getting his head around the fact he had a child to take care of.

He’d told me a little about Ariel’s father, and the fact that he would take on such a huge responsibility showed this man was no reckless thug. He worked hard, took care of his kid, and minded his own business. I couldn’t ask for a better employer. I was starting to feel like I fitted in here. His parents were even nice to me. Drue was also really easy on the eye, though that was something I tried to keep a lid on, because it’s not very professional to be lusting after your boss, even if he was a hot biker.

Now someone was trying to blow up my life. The person at the top of the list of people who would love to screw me over was my ex. I’d met him at a party not long after the man I thought was my father thew me out. In hindsight I was desperate for something or someone to cling onto, and this tatted up bad boy seemed like the perfect protector. However, what started out as caring ended up being controlling. He was an alcoholic, addicted to painkillers, and could be downright vicious when he was having a bad day, and had been stalking me for years.

All the stalking stopped a few months ago, and I honestly thought I was home free. Now, I had to wonder if these weird complaints about me from people I’d never worked for, had something to do with him.

But then I realized my ex didn’t know I took this job, and since I moved out of the apartment I had shared with Deb, he had no way of finding me. I had another horrible thought, I grabbed my phone and called my mom.

“Brook. Baby, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“What’s going on, dear? You sound upset.”

“I am upset. I finally got a really good job that I enjoy and someone’s trying to sabotage it by telling my employer a bunch of lies about me. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“No, of course not! Why would you think I had anything to do with this?”

“Because you’re literally the only person I told. Did you mention anything to your husband or anyone else?”

“No. You know he doesn’t like me to talk about you, Brook.”

“I’m all too aware. I just don’t know why this is happening to me.”

“Neither do I. Remember, I’m the one who wrote you a letter of reference to get the job. Why would I go behind your back and sabotage it?”

I rubbed my hand down my face, exasperated with my situation. “I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t really think you did. I just don’t know what else to think.”

“Whoever is doing this to you is a real jackass. Don’t let them drag you down. Just put your best foot forward every day, take care of that adorable little baby, and save as much money as you can.”

Some of my frustration fell away. “Thanks, Mom. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“We can’t change the past, and even if I could I’d never want to change the fact that I had you, you do realize that, sweetie, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said. I know she still hadn’t forgiven herself for what happened four years ago, and it’s true, part of me had wished she’d left the man I had thought was my father and protected me, but now I was older I understood. She had to do what she thought was best for everyone and for her that meant staying with Herb and raising my younger brothers because she felt she was too old to start over.

When Ariel started crying, I apologized to my mom and got off the phone. I ran my hand gently over her head and she settled down.

I grabbed the baby monitor and headed into the kitchen to bake my problems away. I had my favorite peanut butter cookie recipe memorized, so I grabbed the ingredients and got to work. I rolled the dough into balls and dropped them down onto a couple of large cookie sheets, made the crosshatch patterns with a fork, and slid them in the oven to bake.

Once they were done and cooling, I went to check on Ariel. I was delighted to find her awake and making super cute baby noises as she watched the mobile hung over her crib. After seeing the fifty shades of gray and motorcycle décor downstairs, I had wondered initially how the nursery would be decorated, but here it was a riot of color with pastel yellow walls and jungle print. I gently lifted her out of her crib and cuddled her in my arms. I could tell Drue had fallen head over heels in love with her as well. It was all over his face whenever he interacted with her. Fatherhood looked good on the big brute. Of course, anything would. I would have had to be blind not to notice how attractive the man was. I tried not to stare when he walked around wearing only a pair of well-worn jeans slung low on his hips. He had a fuck ton of tattoos covering his upper torso and there was no telling what his jeans were hiding.

Some women had an insatiable bad boy fetish. Not me. I’d been down that road. My ex had a dark side and somehow managed to get more onery with every new drop of ink that landed on his skin. Within a few years he went from being my personal hero, to a man who drank too much, had impulse control issues, and got aggressive when I didn’t move fast enough to give him what he wanted. Though that hot biker I was working for seemed different, I wasn’t getting those kinds of vibes from him. But still, not going there. Nope. Not at all. Been there, done that and bought the t-shirt.

Speak of the devil—Just as I was settling Ariel back in her crib, Drue wandered into the room wearing only jeans. He looked hotter than sin with his tattooed chest on full display. He looked down at his daughter with such a look of love in his eyes, that I practically melted on the spot. He pulled the cord on the mobile and a tune started up while the animals slowly rotated. The soft smile on his lips as he gazed down at his tiny daughter warmed my heart. When he turned to look at me, his expression was filled with love. In this moment, he looked less like a rough biker and more like a proud father. It made him far less intimidating. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, I also wondered if he knew how hot he was in those low-slung jeans.

He stood up and ran one hand through his short hair. “If you need to take a break, I’ll sit with her while she sleeps.”

“I’d love to take an hour, if you don’t mind. I need to run to the store and grab more formula.”

He dropped down into the other rocking chair and pulled out his cell phone. “Take a little time for yourself as well. I’ll be right here when you get back.” I knew Drue well enough to realize he was hoping she would wake up soon so he could spend a little time with her. He had all these cute little baby games he played with her. Drue was insistent that they were activities designed to increase her hand-eye coordination and strengthen her neck muscles by getting her to lift her head more often. This hot biker was vying for the world’s greatest dad award, so I took him up on his offer.

“Thanks. I appreciate the break.” I hesitated at the door. “Do you need anything from the store?”

“No. I’m good. Thanks for asking.”

I stepped through the doorway and walked down the hallway, leaving the scene of domestic tranquility behind. For some reason, I had a lump in my throat. It took me a second to realize that it was because I was growing attached to Drue and little Ariel. It felt like I was walking away from them, even though I was just going to the store.

I grabbed my purse and keys, put on my shoes, and headed downstairs. I saw Drue’s black bike helmet sitting on a table near the door. It had a cartoonish insect painted on the top. That’s when I noticed the word Hornet printed in yellow script on it and I wondered about the significance.

I headed out the front door and heard the biometric lock click shut behind me. My employer was hot on security, which wasn’t surprising considering he worked for some security agency—at least I think he did—he didn’t say much about what he actually did when he was squirreled away in his office filled with a bank of computers, and most of our conversation were more about how Ariel was progressing. The minute I got into my car, I sat my cell phone in its cradle and called my mom. She answered on the second ring.

“Brook! Is everything okay?”

I tried not to feel any kind of way that my mom had a mild freakout every time I called her, though I guess twice in one day was a record.

I quickly reassured her, “Everything’s okay, I had to hang up earlier because Ariel woke, but I can talk properly now.”

“I’m glad. I miss spending time with my daughter.”

“I’m off work right now. Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Absolutely. We don’t get enough get enough quiet moments to talk, so I’m not about to miss one.”

There was only one coffee shop on this side of our small town, so we agreed to meet up there.

***

I got there first and ordered our coffee. I saw her walk in and waved her over. I had to hand it to my mother. She was a classy lady who always looked like she just stepped out of a magazine.

Some daughters might be outclassed by a mother like mine. Not me. I had always been proud that she took such good care of herself. Though in hindsight, knowing what it had cost her, I felt a sadness, rather than the usual pride in seeing her immaculately styled hair and perfectly applied make-up.

Herb was all she had, they say that we all follow the same patterns, and I wondered if choosing a controlling man like my ex, was my way of subconsciously following in my mom’s footsteps. While I was pretty sure that Herb wasn’t abusive—and in my eighteen years of thinking he was my father I never saw any signs that they were anything less than deeply in love with each other—I now knew that she was in some way beholden to the man, and pretty much everything she did was to make him happy,

I slid her coffee across the small table, and she immediately took a sip. “Oh, thank God for life’s small mercies. I had a meeting with your brother’s teacher this morning and didn’t have enough time to make coffee.”

“How are they doing these days? It’s been so long since I last saw them. Still tearing up the neighborhood?” Since being unceremoniously thrown out I hadn’t been able to return to my childhood home, my mom had taken my brothers to see me a few times, but it had been almost a year since I last saw them. Dylan would now be eleven and his younger brother, Caleb, eight.

My mother froze, and I immediately knew why. “Herb doesn’t want them to have a relationship with me, does he?”

She shook her head. “I know it’s been hard on you not being able to see your brothers, but they were so young when you moved out. Over the last few months, they stopped asking to see you.”

“That’s just because they don’t see me enough. They’re probably confused, or they don’t want to ask and upset their dad,” I retorted, not believing what she was saying.

“Herb thinks it would be better for you to reconnect with them when they’re older. He wants them to be old enough make their own decision.”

“So, you’re going to let your husband turn me into the amazing disappearing sister?”

“Herb was really hurt when he discovered you weren’t his child. I always knew there was a chance you weren’t his, and he was going to take it badly when he found out, but I hadn’t realized just how badly.”

“You never did tell me how he discovered I wasn’t his daughter.”

“Herb has always been convinced he has Indigenous heritage. He gathered up hair samples from all of us and sent them off to one of those labs. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. He was going to book a vacation at a heritage site so you could all learn native customs. But when the results came in, it showed he and the boys had Native American ancestry, but you didn’t.”

“Those autosomal tests aren’t accurate, and besides that, you only inherit fifty percent of each parent’s DNA—unless Herb was fully Native American, I might not have inherited any of his Native American ancestry.” I’d listened to some podcast about this a while back, I still wasn’t entirely sure how it all worked, but I’d remembered that fact.

My mom’s eyes darkened, “They did a family linkage as part of the report, the boys came back with a ninety-nine point nine percent match for Herb being their dad, with you there was no match.”

“Oh,” I said, because I couldn’t really argue with that. “Genetics never lies.”

“The year before you were born, we had taken a break because we were fighting about everything, not long before I got back with Herb, I had a one-night stand. I never thought anything of it, and I honestly thought you were his. I only started having doubts when I couldn’t get pregnant again, and we went through a barrage of tests—that’s why it took so long for me to have your brothers—it turned out that Herb had a low sperm count. I don’t know if he started getting suspicious then, but after getting those results he put two and two together.”

“But even though he raised me and loved me all those years, he doesn’t love me anymore. He’s punishing me for what he sees as you betraying him.”

Mom reached out and took my hand. “Oh, no, sweetie. It’s much worse than that. He’s using you to punish me. Herb knows my family is my whole world. Pushing you out, the way he did was the cruelest revenge he could think of. Making me have to meet you in public places and erasing you from the boys’ lives feels like having my family torn apart. I’m not trying to turn myself into the victim here, but I never knew this kind of pain existed. He’s managed to hurt me as much as I hurt him.”

“And he’s never going to stop punishing you, because he can’t un-feel all the hurt and betrayal you put him through all those years.”

She nodded, looking forlorn. “He acts like I gave him a precious gift and then took it away, destroying something he dearly loved.”

“Except that I’m right here and he’s the one who threw me away over genetics.” Since learning that Herb wasn’t my father, I had wondered about who my biological father was. At the time I was too shocked to ask, and in the last few years I was too messed up with my own chaotic life to think about it too much. Now certainly wasn’t the best time to ask. I realized in that moment that me and Mom were even more alike. She had kept all this from me, and I’d never told her about my abusive ex, we didn’t see one another often enough for her to pick up on the bruises, and shame and embarrassment kept me from saying anything.

She’d thought my badly broken arm was due to me tripping down a flight of stairs, not from Tate deliberately breaking it after I’d burned his dinner.

We sat in awkward silence for a few moments, each probably thinking the same thing, about how we were stupid for letting men control our lives.

Mom took a sip of her coffee, then asked, “Is your job still going smoothly?”

“Yes. I love my new job, being a live-in nanny stroke housekeeper is awesome. The baby isn’t fussy at all, the father stays in his own lane and always pays promptly. I even like my suite there. I think his house must have been designed with dual master suites, because mine is huge.”

“As long as he’s treating you well and not getting handsy, it sounds like a dream job.”

“In a lot of ways, it is. And it’s a refreshing change from having to fight off drunken asshole patrons who think the servers are also on the menu. The slower pace is giving me time to really think about what I want to do with my life.”

My mother drained her cup and sighed. “Have you come to any conclusions yet?”

“Not really, but I’m working on it.”

“Maybe you could pick up some night classes,” she suggested.

“If I went to college, it would be because I really wanted a career that required a degree. So far, I haven’t thought of one.”

My mother looked at me intently. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t want to pursue college or a degree. Sometimes it’s nice to enjoy where you are.”

I smiled. “I know. Maybe that’s where I am right now, just counting my blessings and enjoying the new stability I’ve found.”

Done with our coffees, we stood, and I took our cups to the counter before walking outside. Since I was parked near the door, we immediately noticed that I had a flat tire.

“Oh fiddlesticks, Brook.”

“At least I have money to buy a new one, though I think my boss has some friends with an automotive garage, so maybe he can get me a good deal.”

I bent down to look at my tire, expecting to see that I’d picked up a nail or something. What I saw instead were several long slashes.

My mom asked over my shoulder, oblivious to damage done to my tire, “Have you got this? I’d stay, but I have to pick your brothers up from school.”

“Yeah, this is no big deal. You go ahead and head on over to the school.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’ll call my boss and see if he can give me a lift, or I can catch an Uber.”

My mom hesitated. “Okay, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

As she walked away, I ran my fingertips over the slash marks. I had already been gone for an hour and half and hadn’t even made it to the store. I needed to call Drue and let him know that I was going to be running a little late.