Chapter 15
Brian
“You are so talented,” Cal gushed.
Kit lit up, the joy on her face making her look uncannily like her mother.
“Someday,” Cal went on, “we’ll be buying tickets to see you at Lincoln Center.”
I couldn’t help but stare at Jess, who had her arm around her daughter, beaming with pride.
I’d known the kid was good, but she’d blown my socks off, playing with passion and precision beyond her age.
And fuck if I hadn’t almost teared up when the guys and the boys insisted on coming. Even T. J. and Murphy had enjoyed it. Though Murphy was rarely effusive, he’d been grinning all night, and a few feet down the sidewalk, T. J. was waving wildly, surely telling a tale.
“We need to celebrate this monumental achievement,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “How about ice cream?”
The four kids shrieked so loudly it probably woke up half of Park Slope.
I grinned. “I know a very special place.”
We walked along Sackett Street, the kids bouncing around ahead of us, with Cal acting just as rowdy and Sully policing the situation.
Jess and I hung back a little, walking side by side.
Every minute or so, I stole a look at her.
I so desperately wanted to focus on the excitement of the night and how good this all felt.
But instead, I kept going back to Kenneth’s smug face and his cruelty.
How long had he treated her like this? If I could, I’d reverse time and go back just so I could represent her in their divorce.
I would have made that man bleed in court.
We would have sucked every penny from him and the marrow from his bones for good measure.
My jaw was tight as I mentally cataloged all the ways I could destroy him in court, and I was deep in a legal-based revenge fantasy when Jess bumped my arm.
“You okay over there?” she asked.
I looked down at her concerned face and forced my shoulders to lower from my ears. “I am now.”
She threaded her arm through my elbow, instantly scaring away another layer of tension. “Good, because you need to know. I really love ice cream, so this place better deliver.”
“Oh, it will,” I replied, eyeing Kit and Greta, who were now pirouetting down the sidewalk. “He doesn’t deserve them,” I blurted out.
Her body stiffened beside me, and she stumbled a step.
“Sorry.” I winced. “It’s not my place.”
Squeezing my arm, Jess pulled me to a stop. “You’re right. He doesn’t deserve them. And it helps to hear you say that.”
I gave her a soft smile and brushed a strand of hair from her face. For a moment, I was lost in her, her fathomless brown eyes making it hard for me to find my way out.
Ahead, T. J. screeched, and finally, I took a step back and huffed a breath. Then I grasped Jess’s hand, and the two of us jogged to catch up with the group.
“What is this place?” Greta gushed, looking in the window.
“The Farmacy,” Kit read. “What’s that?”
“A uniquely Brooklyn institution,” I explained as I stepped past Sully, who held the door for us. “At the turn of the century, this was an apothecary.”
“What’s that?”
“An old-fashioned drugstore, where people went to get medicine and other health-related stuff,” Jess explained.
The place was now a vintage ice cream parlor and soda fountain. “I hope you’re hungry,” I said, “because the sundaes here are the size of Fuzzy.”
“Yes,” T. J. hissed, jumping up and down.
We all piled into a large pink booth, the kids clamoring to look at the ornate menus.
Jess smiled at me from across the table, where Murphy was quietly telling her a story about Minecraft, and my heart clenched.
That smile.
I wanted to earn it every day. I wanted all her smiles.
And that was a terrifying thought.
But this felt easy. Kids, chaos, ice cream. I wasn’t sure what I’d been so afraid of for so long.
“What are you getting?” Greta asked me.
Before I could open my mouth, Cal jumped in. “Brian doesn’t like ice cream.”
Every person at the table looked at me in shock.
“No,” I corrected, smoothing down my tie. “I like ice cream. I just don’t eat it often.”
“Sus,” Kit declared, once again perusing her menu.
“Super sus,” Greta echoed, giving me a dubious look.
“Do you want to share with me?” Jess asked. “I’m salivating over the Ninety-Nine Problems, but I can’t eat the whole thing.”
I tilted closer to Greta and scanned her menu. I didn’t actually care what the Ninety-Nine Problems consisted of. I was too damn giddy about sharing ice cream with the beautiful woman across from me, but I figured I should pretend to confirm that it sounded palatable.
“Yes. Sounds awesome.” I straightened. “I love chocolate.”
Sully’s lips tugged down, but I ignored the look, busying myself with listening to the kids while they debated the merits of the choices on the very extensive menu.
After we’d placed our order, Greta propped her elbows up. “Why is Brian the only one who ever walks Fuzzy?”
“Because Lo told him to,” Cal said. “And we do what she says.”
“When Fuzzy came to live with us, Brian started the walking routine. None of us had any interest, so we let him,” Sully added.
“But Lo told us that he’s your cat,” Kit added, scrutinizing Cal.
He threw his hands up. “Fuzzy Wuzzy loves him. No one can explain it. I bought him organic cat treats and so many toys, but from the start, he chose Brian to be his bit—oops.” He winced, then turned on the charming smile that always got him out of trouble.
“Sorry. I mean butler. He wanted Brian to be his human butler, and who are we to say no to a cat who has made up his mind?”
The girls giggled. T. J. did too. Murphy gave Cal a soft look that resembled one a parent would give their child, not the other way around. But that was the kind of relationship the two of them had.
“So you got stuck with the cat,” Jess said softly.
I shrugged. “I could do without the litter box, but I don’t mind the walks. They help me clear my head. Though he’s a pain in the ahh—butt at night. He likes to sleep on my chest. And he drives me crazy, knocking things off my desk for fun.”
“He’s a cat,” Cal said. “It’s what they do.” He said this as if he’d taken care of the cat a single day since he’d brought him home. Lo had asked me to chip in, and I’d been happy to do it, especially since I’d escaped both the plant and fish maintenance.
Cal had gone through several caretaking phases when Murphy first came to live with him.
Lo had secretly gone behind him and taken care of his plants and fish to help in order to build up his parenting confidence.
Murphy had even gotten in on it. And together he and Lo had stashed a couple of fish in bowls in Murphy’s room so they could replace the dead ones before Cal noticed.
Bubbles the Ninth was still doing well so far.
According to Madame E, ten was the lucky number, so before long, the charade would end.
After eating his weight in ice cream and ordering a milkshake to wash it down, Cal threw Jess a devious grin. “So, Jess. Now that we have you, I want all the dirt on College Brian. Tell us everything. Has he always been an uptight wanker?”
Sully barked a laugh, the loud sound startling Murphy, then ruffled his nephew’s hair.
I glared at my best friends. Traitors.
“Brian is not uptight,” Jess corrected in her mom voice.
“But he was… intense. Focused. Didn’t matter what it was.
We’d go to concerts as often as we could.
Really, any live music we could find. Brian was always great at making the plans, remembering the tickets, and knowing the T schedule so we could all get home safely. That sort of thing.”
Her smile grew, her dark eyes warm with affection, or so I liked to think.
“And he was super helpful back then too.” She gave me a wink.
My face heated ridiculously.
“He tutored friends who were struggling. And, oh my God.” She put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “My junior year, my friends and I were living in the most horrid off-campus apartment. A basement with bars on the windows, no hot water, and lots of suspicious smells coming from the closets.”
I had an instant flashback to that place and shuddered, already knowing which story she was about to tell.
“We’d come back from a party or concert or something, and I was complaining about how the washing machine was broken and had eaten my quarters. So Brian decided he’d fix it.”
“Was he pissed?” Cal whispered, eyeing the kids to ensure they were distracted by their own conversation.
“Drunk?” Jess asked, brows lifted. “Tipsy, maybe. But my dad had sent me to college with a pink toolbox so I could take care of myself. So Brian got the pink tools, marched in there, and started taking it apart. But…” Her eyes flashed with amusement.
“There was one problem. The door to the laundry room was this big steel thing, and it always got stuck, so we all kept it propped open with a large rock.”
“Oh no.” Cal ran his hands through his hair, grinning, not the least bit concerned for College Brian’s well-being.
Jess nodded. “When Brian pulled the washer out of the wall, he quickly discovered why it wasn’t working.”
Both guys were leaning forward on their elbows, their attention darting from Jess to me and back again.
She bit her lip, like that could stop her from smiling. “There was a raccoon back there.”
Cal straightened. “Bollocks.”
I nodded.
“And my sweet Brian, thinking he was saving us from a feral animal, kicked the rock and shut the door to contain it. Except he was still inside, and like it always did, the door stuck, and he couldn’t get out.”
“And that’s how Brian got rabies,” Sully deadpanned.
“Not quite,” Jess said, folding her napkin in half, then quarters.
“We panicked. The windows were barred, so we couldn’t get him out that way, and I was convinced he was being mauled by a raccoon inside.
One of my roommates called 911, but this was Boston at two a.m. on a Saturday night.
They had bigger issues to deal with than rescuing a drunk college kid who was trapped in a laundry room with a raccoon. ”
“They showed up eventually,” I chimed in. “And got the door off its hinges.”
“And?” Sully and Cal were still rapt, their blue eyes—Sully’s more gray; Cal’s more ocean-like—bright.
Jess’s smile was blinding now, her cheeks pink.
“Brian tamed the raccoon with a protein bar he pulled out of his pocket. And once he was sure it wouldn’t bite him, he fixed the washing machine.
Not only that, but he tampered with it so that when you put quarters in, you could start the cycle, but it would spit the money back out to you.
We enjoyed free laundry for the rest of the year. ”
“No way.”
“There wasn’t a scratch on him,” Jess said proudly. “It was so Brian. He didn’t waste time panicking. Instead, he gave the wild animal a snack and got back to work.”
“Man,” Cal said, shaking his head. “You really were born this way, weren’t you?”
“No wonder Fuzzy chose him,” Sully said with reverence. “He knew he was an animal whisperer.”
Jess ducked her head, averting her gaze. “I’m so glad he’s still a knight in shining armor.”
I watched her, silently begging for her attention, and when she locked eyes with me, that tug returned, the need to touch her and be closer to her.
But she was my client. That thought was like a bucket of ice water. So I broke the connection and used my napkin to wipe at the table.
I’d missed this. The ease I felt around her, the way she made every moment feel more fun and vibrant. I’d missed her.
But for now, at least, I couldn’t do anything about it.
“You must have some good law school stories,” she urged Sully.
“So many.” He grunted a sound that might have been a laugh. “Including during our first year of law school, when he got a parking ticket, then wrote an eleven-page legal brief and showed up to traffic court to defend himself.”
I smiled at the memory. I had been high on justice back then.
“He got up and gave this sweeping argument, citing a precedent that dated back to the eighteen hundreds, before cars were even invented, and argued his constitutional rights were being infringed. Dude thought he was Clarence Darrow.”
“Classic Brian,” Cal said, shaking his head.
“Did you get out of the ticket?” Jess asked.
I shook my head. “Judge still made me pay, but he offered me an internship.”
After we’d paid the tab—Cal stealing the check off the table and insisting he’d cover it—we wandered back down to the parking ramp, our group a little less boisterous than before. Cal and Sully carried their sleepy sons, and Jess and I lagged behind with her daughters.
The night was warm, but the breeze was cool.
It was the kind of evening that made me miss the city.
In a few months, we’d be back here, our Jersey City experiment concluded.
Since the moment we’d been given the details of Terry’s trust and understood that we’d have to rough it in the rundown building where he’d started the firm, I’d been desperate to get back, but suddenly, the thought made my chest constrict.
Coming back meant returning to my home and my office with the incredible view of Manhattan. My oversized fish tank, which I’d been assured was being well-maintained by associates.
But suddenly, when I considered leaving Jersey, apprehension slithered through my veins.
In the last nine months or so, Cal and Lo had found one another, and Sully and Sloane had worked things out and were more in love than ever.
The firm was thriving, both in Jersey and in the city.
I didn’t want to lose a moment of the closeness this family of mine had gained. Or the little time I had with Jess.
Come August, we’d be moving back to the city, and the hope was that she’d be headed to Vermont.
The thought made me want to throw up.
When we reached her car. Kit threw her arms around me, startling me. “Thank you, Brian.”
Jess stood behind her, beaming.
“You were incredible, kid,” I said as I hugged her in return. “Can’t wait for your next performance.”
I waited until the three of them had loaded up and were heading toward the exit before dragging myself to Sully’s SUV. In the passenger seat, I stared out at the world passing by, trying to process all that had happened tonight.
I’d come here to support Kit and Jess. But now, at the end of the night, I felt like I’d been accepted into the fold. Like I suddenly belonged to something I didn’t even know I was missing.