Homecoming - Chapter 32
Friday
Brooklyn
This felt like a bad idea. But Jacob was so persistent, and I didn’t want to say no to him. If he really wanted to meet his grandfather, I’d let him.
But just this once.
We stopped outside my father’s apartment door. I looked down at Jacob.
He squeezed my hand.
I didn’t need him to reassure me right now. I wasn’t nervous about this because of me. I was worried about him.
I crouched down to look at him. “Remember how I told you that I didn’t want you to meet my father? Because he’s not a good man?”
Jacob nodded.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he’s going to act really nice while we visit. But you can’t believe it. It’s just a show.”
“Like on the TV?”
“Exactly like that. You can’t ever trust him, okay? You have to believe me.”
“Sí.”
“So why do you want to see him so badly?”
He shrugged.
Why did he always do that when I asked him about this?
Why was this so important to him? I pressed my lips together.
I remembered when I desperately wanted to know who my father was.
Maybe it was like that. He’d lost a family member and was just looking for someone to hold on to.
Anyone. I wished my father could be that person for him.
But…he definitely wasn’t. I’d already made that same mistake with him.
And I’d never give my father the satisfaction of hurting my son like he’d hurt me.
“I’m here to tell him that I’m no longer going to see him. Do you understand that?”
“Sí.”
Jacob was so calm about this. I thought maybe he didn’t understand how bad my father was. How this really was a goodbye forever. What if he liked my dad and begged to keep seeing him? He’d been begging me for days to get to meet him.
“And you’re okay with what I said? That this will be the only time you get to see him?”
“Yessie, Mommy.”
“Okay.” I stood back up and knocked.
The door opened immediately. But it wasn’t my father who answered.
Donnelley was standing there. One of the bodyguards that had worked for my father when I’d lived here. The one that Isabella had threatened. Recognition flashed across his face too. And so did a huge smile.
“Brooklyn?”
I smiled too and nodded.
He pulled me into a huge bear hug. “I cried for days when I thought…” his voice trailed off. “Mr. Pruitt told me you were back this morning. But I didn’t…I can’t even believe it. For years I thought…” his voice trailed off. “I can’t believe you’re really here. It’s just so good to see you.”
I pulled back and smiled up at him. “It’s good to see you too.”
He shook his head. “Are you really here to take over the family business?”
I looked down at Jacob. “No. We’re here to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye? But you just got back.” Donnelley looked down at my son. “Hey, little man. You look just like your father.”
Jacob just stared at him. For a second I thought his stranger danger was back. But then he said, “You knew my daddy?”
“Yeah. We were friends.”
“I’m Jacob.” Jacob put out his hand for Donnelley to shake.
His hand completely disappeared into Donnelley’s massive hand as they shook.
“We can be friends too then,” Jacob said.
“I’d like that, kid,” Donnelley said.
I blinked away the tears in my eyes. The word kid felt like a knife in my chest.
“Do you know my abuelo?” Jacob asked.
Donnelley smiled. “I sure do.”
“I need to see him,” Jacob said. “It’s very important.”
“Let me go get him. Make yourself at home,” Donnelley said before walking off.
Make yourself at home? I shook my head. This apartment wasn’t a home.
But Jacob wandered off into the dining room.
He looked up at the huge portrait on the wall.
I was pretty sure it had gotten damaged during the Thanksgiving incident.
But it had been restored. And somehow the restoration made all of their eyes look even creepier as they glared down at the dining room table.
I stared at Isabella. The artist really had captured her cruel eyes perfectly.
I looked up at Mrs. Pruitt’s stern face.
I wondered if she still looked the same.
She’d certainly had enough Botox to freeze her face in time.
Jacob was staring at them. He didn’t really know that people here had thought I was dead.
He didn’t know that Miller and I were in hiding.
He didn’t know about Isabella. Or Mrs. Pruitt.
I’d tried my best to shelter him. But I felt like he should know all of this.
He should know why he wasn’t allowed to see his grandfather. Why he couldn’t be part of this family.
“Why aren’t you in the picture, Mommy?”
I ruffled his hair. “Because you and Daddy are my only family.”
“That’s true,” a woman said from behind us.
I spun around to see Mrs. Pruitt standing there. And I was right. She looked almost the same. But her face looked even faker than it had before. Almost…swollen and plasticky looking. And her lips were definitely larger. Like she’d overdone it on the lip injections.
I stepped in front of Jacob. “Where is my father?”
“Busy,” she said. And then she stared down at my son.
I pushed Jacob farther behind me. I’d been so happy to see Donnelley that I’d completely forgotten that there may be more surprise appearances.
My father said his wife was residing in the Hamptons.
But here she was. Was she back for good?
I kind of thought my father had implied that they’d decided to live separately.
Mrs. Pruitt turned her gaze back to me. “You ruined his life, you know.”
For a second I thought maybe she was talking about Miller. Because there was a piece of me that thought that. If I’d just kept my hands to myself…Miller would still be alive. But I couldn’t make myself regret it. I couldn’t.
“Although I guess it really started with your mother.”
I swallowed hard. She wasn’t talking about Miller. She was talking about my father. How had I ruined his life? How had my mother? We’d stayed away from him until he literally dragged me back. None of this was on me or my mom.
“That slut ruined everything. You followed her destructive path. And now my daughter is dead.”
How was Isabella’s death my fault? “Don’t you dare talk about my mother that way.”
“Do you prefer the word whore? Prostitute?”
I turned around to cover Jacob’s ears. “Stop it.”
“You’re in my house. I’ll call your whore of a mother whatever I want!”
“Enough,” my father said as he walked into the dining room. “Patricia, our meeting is over. You may go.”
I hated that I was relieved to see him. But I was. The only person that scared me more than him was his wife.
“That wasn’t a meeting! You’ve lost your damned mind. She can’t take over, Richard. She’s not a Cannavaro. She’s not blood.”
“She’s my blood,” my father said calmly.
“My grandfather will roll in his grave. This is Isabella’s legacy. You’ll tarnish the family’s good name…”
“I will not ask you nicely again,” my father said. “You can either leave right now, or I’ll have you escorted out.”
“Just because you don’t want me here doesn’t mean this isn’t my home,” Mrs. Pruitt said.
“Now, Patricia.”
“Next you’ll tell me you’re going to give the little half-breed the Pruitt name.”
I pressed down on Jacob’s ears a little harder. She didn’t mean…she couldn’t possibly be talking about my son? Half-breed? With what? The help?
“Get out!” Mr. Pruitt said.
“You’ll pay for this,” she spat.
He grabbed her wrist before she could storm off. “Don’t waste my time with idle threats.”
She pulled her wrist out of his grasp. And with one last hard glare at me, she strutted off, her high-heels echoing. I closed my eyes at the noise. It sounded just like Isabella. When she’d walked down the hallways of Empire High.
I jumped when my father put his hand on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” my father said. “She was out of line. I didn’t realize you were coming or she wouldn’t have been here.”
I shook my head as my hands dropped from Jacob’s ears. “This was a mistake. Come on, Jacob, we need to go.”
But Jacob didn’t move. He was staring intently at my father. So intently that his eyes were almost in slits.
“Jacob,” I said and put my hand down for him to hold, but he didn’t take it. He just kept staring.
“Please don’t go,” my father said. “Patricia was out of line. Your mother wasn’t…she…” his voice trailed off. “Your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me. She gave me you.”
Right, and I gave you a free kidney. He was really full of it. But it was the things he said like this that made me falter. Because when he spoke of my mother, I could hear the love in his voice. But love wasn’t enough.
“And you can ignore anything Patricia says. The company is yours. It was always meant to be yours.”
I shook my head. “I came here to tell you that I’m staying in New York.
Because Jacob wants to stay.” I looked down at my son who was still just staring at my father.
“But staying doesn’t mean you’re going to be in our lives.
There’s nothing you can do that will make me believe you didn’t have a hand in what happened with Miller.
I don’t want you or Poppy or anyone you’re associated with anywhere near my son.
Or me. And I want no part of your business. ”
“But, Angel, you were made for this. You’re my daughter…”
“I’m not. And I’m not your angel. Or your princess. I’m Brooklyn Miller.” My voice cracked on Miller’s name. “As long as you’re associated with the mob, I want nothing to do with you.”
For once my father was silent.
“It’s time to go, Jacob.” I wasn’t sure what he’d wanted to see my father for. But I hoped it was just to see him. Because Jacob hadn’t said a word. I put my hand out for him, but again, he still didn’t take.
“What happened to your face?” Jacob finally said as he stared at my father.
Mr. Pruitt touched his nose. His eyes were a little less black and blue today. “Your mother hit me. She has a great right hook.”
Jacob looked up at me and smiled. “Daddy told you too?”
Told me what? Before I could ask, Jacob punched my father. Right in the nuts. Really freaking hard.
“Jacob!” I yelled.
My dad buckled over and groaned.
“Jacob, why did you hit him?!”
“Daddy told me to. He said if anything happened that I should punch your daddy.”
Oh my God.
My father had fallen to his knees and his face was scrunched up in pain.
“That was for Daddy,” Jacob said. “You’re a bad abuelo!”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
My father didn’t say a word. And I wasn’t worried about leaving him. Because he had at least one great kidney to hold him together. I scooped up Jacob into my arms and ran out of the room, through the foyer, and out the door.
“You shouldn’t hit people,” I said, even though I was silently high-fiving him.
“You shouldn’t hit people,” he said back to me.
Touché.
“But…Daddy said it’s okay to hit bad people,” Jacob said.
“Your father was right about that.”
“I know,” Jacob said. And then he smiled up at me. “I did good?”
“You did great.” I kissed the top of his head as we hurried down the stairs. I doubted my father was running after us. But I still wanted out of this building.
“What’s a slut?” Jacob asked.
Oh no. “It’s a bad word. Something mean that you should never repeat.”
“What about whore?”
I’d covered his ears, how had he heard that? “Don’t ever say that either.”
“Prostitute?”
I walked through the lobby and out the front doors, hoping no one heard my son say that. “Sweet boy, promise me you’ll never say those words again.”
“Sí. If we go to the zoo.”
“Are you bartering with me?”
“Abuelo Tanner says bartering is the key to succession.”
“You mean success?”
Jacob shrugged.
I couldn’t help but laugh. My son had just hit my father in the nuts. And it was actually kind of hilarious now that we were far away from him. A last parting gift from Miller. Jacob had done everything Miller had told him to. And that deserved a special treat. “Okay, let’s go to the zoo.”
“Huzzah!”
I was pretty sure Rob had yelled that the other night when he made a family-room-soccer goal. Jacob was picking up everything.