Chapter 21
Brooklyn
I understood Allison’s pain, a little, waking up on Saturday morning knowing I had a full shift slated to take away eight hours of my last full day with Ryan. I woke up earlier than usual, and my chest ached as I looked at her sleeping softly next to me, lips parted, her hair rumpled in the sheets.
She and her sister were both a menace, getting girls attached to them like this. I had myself to blame, too, though—should have just let her walk on out yesterday, go for a long walk, come back with more distance between us, and we’d be back to a fling.
Instead, I kissed her and told her how I didn’t want her to go, took her to the bedroom, made love to her for hours, took her out on the town and walked her through all my regular places, holding her hand like she was the other half of me, and watched the sunset together with her, her head resting on my shoulder and hands interlaced in my lap.
So, it was kind of on me.
I sighed, leaning over in the bed and kissing her temple softly. “You’re trouble,” I whispered, and when she didn’t stir, I moved, sliding out of bed and getting ready. No chance I was getting back to sleep with this heavy feeling churning in my veins, so I took the anxious energy and got it out of my system, pulling on my running shoes and getting out to jog to the strip of shops on the corner close by, stopping into the café. The owner, an older man named Daniel with thick glasses and major memory problems but who never forgot to beam and greet me by name when I went in, made me think for a minute that I was getting away with asking for pastries for two, but when he handed over the bag, he said,
“I picked out the best for your special guest.”
I plastered on a smile. “What, like I can’t eat two pastries?”
He chuckled. “I heard talk about you having a nice little friend over. I can’t remember who from, though.”
He definitely did remember this time. Man just knew not to rat out his sources. I sighed, taking the bag with a tired smile. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”
The world was full of reminders, because he smiled wider and said, “Is this one sticking around?”
I pretended to be busy fighting my card out of my wallet. “Nope… leaving tomorrow.”
As if I needed to talk about it. Let alone see the look of disappointment in his expression. I wasn’t thinking about it.
Which got harder when the doorbell chimed behind me, and I got interrupted on my way out of the café by a woman it took me a second to place as Ryan’s mother, slipping inside and stopping with a pointed look at me, looking me over.
“You’re Brooklyn, aren’t you?” she said, and I strained a smile.
“The one and only. Another thing I am, though, is in a hurry. ”
She shook her head, coming out of the surprise and giving me a sheepish look. “I’m so sorry—I’m forgetting my manners. Do… do you have a second? I’m just… well, I just wanted to make sure Ryan is okay.”
I sighed, looking away, and I gave up—sank into one of the seats close to the door, dropping the bag on the table. “Ryan’s just fine,” I said quietly. “She’s a little distressed her family isn’t there for her. But she’ll be all right.”
She drew her lips in a tight line, sinking into the seat across from me. She was clearly well-off—not just the nice clothes and the Louis Vuitton bag, but her manner, the way she carried herself. “I know there are issues, but she’s… we are here for her.”
“Talk’s cheap, Mrs. Bell.”
She moved to speak and thought better of it, pursing her lips and letting her breath out slowly. She looked a few inches smaller when she spoke again, her voice smaller this time. “Can you tell her I’m sorry?”
I raised my eyebrows, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll pass it along, but… you can’t count on me to keep delivering messages. She’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Is she?” she said quietly. “She said she’s going to book her own way back and didn’t tell me anything else about it, and she hasn’t been responding to any of my messages.”
“Probably can’t see the messages through a whole collection of people telling her off for voicing her own feelings and needs, not to mention Shane alternately telling her she’s the worst person alive and that she needs to get back with him already.”
She sighed, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t think we were doing that badly.”
“Has anyone around her actually expressed any support for her since her career change?”
“It’s just—she had a great career, and I know it’s hard to see the bigger picture when you’re young—”
“Why are you arguing right now?”
She shrank away. “Well,” she started, her voice prickly, but she looked down. “Well, I guess we could have been more supportive.”
I sighed. As much as I wanted to get into a scrap with this woman right now, the best thing I could do for Ryan was to help make it okay between her and her family once she was gone. Saying goodbye was going to suck no matter what, but I could reassure myself at least that I’d helped her live a better life on the other side of me. I relaxed my posture, leaning in over the table. “We all mess up, all the time,” I said softly. “Ryan’s not looking for you to be perfect, just like you’re not looking for her to be perfect. She’s looking for you to be accountable, to listen to what she needs.”
She wiped her eyes with a heavy sigh. “I just feel like I’ve done everything wrong, every step of the way. I can give her grace, but why is there never any for me?”
“Ryan’s been giving you grace. She’s been letting you give your opinions on her career, letting you spend time with the man who cheated on her, and she’s still come around to tell you what she needs to repair the relationship. It’s important to recognize that extending grace isn’t always pretty… sometimes it looks like someone telling you how you’ve done wrong and what they need. But would you rather hear that, or have her pull quietly away from you instead?”
She squeezed her hands on the table, shutting her eyes tightly. After a long quiet, she said, “I suppose you’re… not wrong.”
“She’s letting you know she thinks the relationship with you is worth the effort.”
She looked suddenly wide-eyed at me. “Didn’t you have somewhere to be? Am I keeping you?”
“Oh, I was lying trying to get out of this, but we’re here now, so I guess we might as well.”
She laughed, suddenly, sharply. “You’re… you’re interesting,” she said, and she put on a small, sad smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Brooklyn. I’m sorry for how… er… complicated it’s been.”
I raised my eyebrows, a wary look her way. “You met me already. Alongside your sister.”
“You know what I mean. You’re, ah… you’re the one Ryan is dating, right?”
I studied her a second longer before I sank back in the seat. “It’s just casual,” I said. “But I have grown quite partial to her. You did raise an intelligent, sharp-witted woman with a strong sense of self.”
She smiled tiredly at me. “I just want to do right by her.”
“Then listen to what she’s telling you she needs.”
“What…” She took a second clearly considering if she even should have said it before she gave up and went with it. “What should I do?” she said. “You know her… better than I feel like I do at this point.”
“If you ask me?” I shrugged. “Keep this energy with her, too. I know you’re trying to be perfect for her, that it hurts you when she sees you making mistakes and being wrong, but what she needs—what we all need from a parent—is someone who listens and owns when they make mistakes. Someone who models that it’s okay to make a mistake. For crying out loud, she wants the chance to help you, too. To matter. If you listen to what she needs and let her know what you need, I think you’ll make it work.”
“I feel like she doesn’t want me around,” she said thickly. “I know I haven’t done perfectly. I don’t think I’ve even done well. How do I… I don’t know. How do I make up for years of not doing well as a mother?”
“By doing this.” I reached across the table, putting a hand on top of hers. “Just let her know these same things you told me, that you’re trying to figure out how to do better. And then commit to doing better. Judging from what I know about the family dynamics, it might cause problems between you and other members of the family, but Stella and Oscar, at least, are on Ryan’s side. And your kids are important to you, right?”
“Of course.” She sighed, sitting up taller, and she gave me a thin smile. “You’re very… well, you’re a very intelligent young woman.”
“I’ve experienced it myself,” I said dryly. “My parents didn’t like the things I needed, so they showed me the door. That relationship can’t be fixed, but I happen to like Ryan, so… if I can make things better between you and her, that will be enough.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“It’s fine. Really. That was years ago. I’ve moved on. Just focus on making sure Ryan knows she won’t have to make that same choice—that you’ll love and support her no matter what.”
She sighed, once again, and she nodded, wiping her eyes again. “Right. I’m glad… er. Well. Thank you for being good to her.”
I couldn’t help a smile. “You’re not sure what to do with Ryan being bisexual, huh?”
She let out a short, thick laugh. “I just hadn’t expected it. I’m a little… confused, and a little concerned, but just because I know the world won’t be kind to her for it.”
“Lots of parts of the world are kind these days. What matters more is whether the people closest to her are kind to her for it. Her family, for one.”
“You’re right. I know.” She shook her head. “I never would have imagined it. But if she wants to be with a woman, well… I just hope it’s a woman like you.”
Oh, god, now I was going to get sentimental. I put on a smile, hoping the prickle I felt in my eyes was nothing. “I’m just the bartender. Just a quick stop in paradise.”
“If you were to be more than that, then I wouldn’t be sad. You’ve done more for her than any of us. That’s all I want—from anybody she’s with. Somebody who looks after her, who… who has her back, who makes things better for her.” She stood up slowly. “Thank you, Brooklyn. Tell her… well. Tell her whatever you want to. I guess you’re right, I can’t keep… asking you to be my messenger for my own daughter. Just don’t hurt her, please.”
Ah, well, dammit. I was going to hurt her. Going to hurt myself, too. But it wasn’t my choice—wasn’t hers, either. Just something the universe chose for us. But I smiled and said, “I won’t. I promise.” I paused. “Also, if you’re going to order something here, don’t get the white chocolate tart. It’s not as good as it sounds. Try the cheese pastry.”
She laughed. “Well, I’ll trust the recommendations from the locals.”
And that was just it, wasn’t it? I was the local. Ryan was the traveler with the jetset lifestyle, comfortable with a rich family. She was a warm, compassionate woman, not like the typical silver-spoon brat, but the fact of the matter was, she was in a different universe from me. And I had to accept that.
She’d find someone else who was more suited to her world. I just hoped she’d remember me well. I was a little sappy like that.
By the time I got back to the house, Ryan was awake, and my chest ached at the sight of her rumpled and still touched with sleep around the edges, sitting up in the bed with her laptop in her lap. She shut it and smiled sweetly at me when I stepped into the room, setting it aside and crawling across the bed towards me.
“Good morning,” I said, holding the bag up. “I brought some morning treats—”
For the time being, she couldn’t seem to care less about the morning treats. She took me by the front of the shirt and pulled me down into a kiss, and she wrestled me towards the bed, pulling the bag from my hand and setting it on the bedside table, tugging me down into the bed on top of her, and I lost myself in her, kissing slowly and sensually under the warmth of the early morning sunlight filtering in through the window, cracked to the sound of the ocean.
“Good morning,” Ryan said softly once she pulled back, her hands under my shirt, caressing me softly and looking at me with those eyes like she’d keep me here forever if she could. And god, if I didn’t want to let her.
“You’re in a good mood this morning.”
She gave me an unbearably cute little pout, tugging on my shirt. “You walked in the room. Of course I’m in a good mood.”
“Worried it was someone else coming in the house?”
She laughed, kissing me again. “You know what I mean,” she said. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if it were Allison breaking in looking for pizza.”
“Touché.” I sat up in the bed next to her, and she sat up with me, her expression following mine into something more serious as I said, “Your mother talked to me while I was out.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, god. What’d she say?”
Suddenly I felt too embarrassed to actually name it, all the parts about if she’s dating a woman, I just hope it’s a woman like you . “She wanted you to know she’s sorry,” I said. “That she wants to do better, she just doesn’t know how.”
Ryan wrung her hands in her lap. I smiled tentatively.
“She’s very, very surprised that you’re bisexual. And she clearly doesn’t know all the right words. But she just wants you to be happy.”
The weight slipped off her shoulders, and she looked down. She was quiet for a while before she breathed, “I really don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now.”
“Just… what a week, huh?” she laughed breathlessly. “Broke up with Shane, blew up my family, came out as bisexual, and now putting it all back together?”
“I’m amazed you’ve had time for rock climbing in the middle of it all.”
“Well, yeah. I like when you stare at my ass.”
I put my hands up. “It is a really nice ass.”
She kissed me again, sinking into me. “Thank you.”
I wasn’t the eagle-eyed journalist here, but I was pretty sure that thank you wasn’t just about admiring her ass. I held her into me, kissing her as much as I could right now, and when I parted from her lips, I said, “It’s really my pleasure.”
She tightened her grip on my hips. Wasn’t hard to work out what she was thinking behind that subtly strained, subtly sad expression, but she didn’t voice it—no point in voicing it, for either of us. “Brooklyn…”
“Yeah?”
“Take your shirt off, please.”
I laughed, mostly in surprise. “Do you want breakfast first?”
“Yes,” she said, voice petulant. “And I want you to have your shirt off while we do. Please. And thank you.”
“Hmm.” I traced a hand down her side. “It only seems fair if I get to pick what you’re wearing, too, then.”
She batted her eyelashes at me. “Whatever you like.”
It wasn’t very often I found a woman who could keep up with my sexual appetite. Damn, but I was going to miss her. For all kinds of reasons.
“Sounds like we have a deal, then,” I said, sliding my hands higher under her shirt, and she closed her eyes with a soft noise that I took as signing on the deal.