Chapter 20 Brad
Brad
Paislee babbles at me as we lie on the living room floor, her voice full of bright, animated squeals and face full of spit bubbles.
Honestly, I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in ages.
She waves her arms like she’s telling a full-blown story, and I can’t stop smiling at the determination on her face.
These moments are everything.
It’s Sunday afternoon, and since I’ve got the whole day off, Veronica and I have this unspoken rule where she can go out and spend her day doing whatever she’d like while I get to enjoy more time alone with my Paislee Honeybee.
Paislee flings her favorite stuffed giraffe, giving me a firm slap in the face before she army-crawls toward my chest with a big grunt.
“Okay, so it’s like that, huh?” I laugh, tickling her, erupting the loudest baby giggles I’ve ever heard. Oh, she’s going to have the best nap time in the world today.
I’m thinking about setting her down when—bam—the front door slams open, revealing a disheveled, furious-looking Veronica.
Oh shit.
I sit up, hoisting Paislee on my lap as she continues to play with her giraffe. Listening in on the heated conversation Veronica’s having on the phone, I tune in as best as I can.
“No, this is ridiculous. I don’t hear from you, and now you’re asking me for that—” Veronica slams her shopping bags down on the kitchen counter in a huff.
My breath starts picking up. There’s only one person I know of who sparks such an emotion out of her like this.
“No, I’m not saying that.” She shakes her head, pacing back and forth. “Obviously, you can, but there’s going to be some serious changes.”
I pick Paislee up and set her in her bouncing chair across the room. She playfully jumps up and down, distracted as a happy baby can be.
Walking slowly over to Veronica, I try to steady myself.
“Veronica, who is it?”
She lifts her pointed finger to me, instantly keeping me quiet.
“Fine,” she continues into the phone. She huffs, obviously feeling defeated, as she leans her arm on the counter to steady herself. “Okay. Good. Bye.” She hangs up, throwing her phone down.
I wince. “Vee, what happened?”
“Looks like my son has finally run out of pride…or cash…sounds like it’s both.”
My pulse thunders in my ears. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
“That was Noah?” I ask, barely over a whisper. I stare at her cellphone laying there on the counter like it wasn’t just harnessing the one voice I’ve been replaying in my head for a year.
Veronica huffs out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I knew it was inevitable at some point. The kid is broke. Crawling back home to his mother. They always do.” She begins rummaging through her bags.
I rest my hand down on the bags so she’ll stop moving. “Veronica. Explain. Is he coming home?” I ramble, unable to stop.
“Yeah, he has to. I’ll send him some money for a ticket home, but you best believe he’s going to be paying us back.” She points at me. Right, because it’ll be me buying the ticket. Never mind that, I follow her to the living room, where she says hello to Paislee, picking her up for a cuddle.
“Veronica, you have to talk to me about that before—”
Her eyebrow peaks. “Because I have to ask permission from you to allow my son to move back home? Try again.” She laughs softly, as though that question is as pathetic as I feel.
She’s right. I have absolutely no say in that.
It’s just…it’s Noah.
“Did he say when he’s coming back?” I barely breathe between words.
She shakes her head. “No, he just wanted the money for the ticket and that’s that.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “So, he could just take the money and decide not to come.”
Veronica rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Brad. If it means that much to you, why don’t you call him and ask?”
The question hits me in the gut.
I did. About thirty-seven times before his phone cut out. I called him every single day for over a month, and he never had the decency to answer. I would’ve waited for him for as long as he asked me to. But he didn’t…because he never fucking picked up.
Anger boils my blood as I think back about what I would’ve done if he had decided to stay. To give me a chance. Us a chance.
However, he chose the easy route.
And now, when I’m actively trying to make things right in my life and forget about him, here he comes, storming back.
On any given day, at any given time, Noah may walk through that front door. And I’m just supposed to…take it.
I clench my fists by my side.
“I’m going for a jog.” I bite out, heading to the bedroom to get changed.
“Whatever you need to cool off, Brad,” she calls after me.
***
“Looking good, guys,” I say, tapping Ethan on the back and giving the rest of the crew a thumbs up.
It’s been a week or so since we started on the interior of this new build, and it’s coming along nicely.
It’s moments like this, seeing a place go from blueprint to bones to something someone will one day call home, that I feel proud of what I’ve built. Of what we’ve all built.
“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work on the cabinetry install,” I add, scanning the space. “That’s it for today, though. Great job.”
A few of the guys nod, already packing up for the day, while Ethan scribbles something down in his notepad.
I take one last look around before heading outside, the early evening sun casting long shadows across the driveway.
The air is crisper than it was this morning.
As expected, since we’re in the tail end of February.
The trees are still bare, and the ground is still covered in a thin layer of snow as I back out of the driveway of this lot.
Time to head home. Back to Paislee.
I wipe my hands off on my work pants. I’m going to have to take a long shower once I get home. I may be the foreman, but I get down and dirty alongside those guys.
I make it home in no time and notice that Veronica is outside on the back patio with Paislee, bouncing her on her knees as she’s sitting on a deck chair.
It’s sweet, and I may even join her once I’m all done in the shower.
The more time that’s been passing, the easier it’s been getting to be around her. There was a good reason why we found each other in the first place. After all, it’s not her fault I fell in love—
No.
Holy shit. That was close…
I refuse to finish that thought. What an idiotic thing to think. It was one weekend. One stupid mistake.
I take my time in the shower, cleaning the dirt from my body and from my mind.
He hasn’t called. Not once. Just takes and disappears. If I didn’t know any better, it’s almost like all that disdain he had for his mother was projection. He hates what he is. A liar.
I shake the thoughts out of my mind, throw on some grey sweats and a white t-shirt, and make my way downstairs.
I take in the view. Veronica is holding Paislee above her, as Paislee giggles and squeals down at her.
The image makes me smile. Something about it reminds me of the difference in my own upbringing. I’m excited to provide my child with a loving household. One that welcomes her, and loves her unconditionally, no matter what…
Just as I open the sliding back door, I see another hand across from Veronica, hidden by the side of the house, so I didn’t see it before, reach out to tickle Paislee’s nose.
My heart stops as he stands up, stepping into view.
As tall, handsome, and devastatingly untouchable as ever.
Noah.
He’s here.
That little sliver of hope that I could forget about him shatters completely as I lock eyes with the young man who walked out of my life eighteen months ago, taking my heart with him.