Chapter 49
CONNOR
I’m kicking myself for not pulling Mildred aside at the hospital when I had the chance a few days ago. But I won’t waste another opportunity. Tonight is the library fundraising gala, organized with the help of Hemi and Hammer, to support Toronto Central’s community programs. Meems is my date.
Tristan steps up beside me as I grab Meems a ginger ale from the bar. “How you doing, man?”
“Okay. You?”
He knows the story behind me and Mildred now. The whole group does. There’s less animosity from my team and a lot more pity. I’m not sure which I like less.
“I’m good.” He surveys the wall of silent auction items, half of them donated by me and Meems. “This is quite the event.”
“It should keep the library programs running for the foreseeable future.”
My plan is to make sure Mildred never has to write another grant proposal.
Meems was livid when she discovered my father had pulled the funding she’d set up years ago.
She was also beyond enraged when she found out he’d been cheating on my mother.
She’s feeling better since we fixed the library funding, but I don’t know what will repair things for my father.
“Dred does amazing things for her community,” Tristan says.
“She does.”
After a beat of silence he adds, “I’m sorry I told Flip about what you did at my wedding, but I’m also not sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s not fair that I asked you to keep that secret for me.”
He shrugs. “We’re all keeping secrets. You don’t have to keep hiding the fact that you’re a good guy, Connor. You can own it.”
“Am I, though? I could have just made Mildred’s problem go away like I did yours.”
He sighs. “How would that have worked, though? She wouldn’t have accepted it as a gift. It’s not how she operates. You know that. You knew that from the start, though, didn’t you? After all the time you spent with her at Callie’s games.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “She’s an easy person to care about.”
“Yeah.” He looks across the room. “Isn’t that the same woman Quinn brought to your wedding?”
I stiffen.
“Sorry, man.” He claps me on the shoulder, expression shifting to chagrin. “I didn’t mean to pour salt on that wound.”
“It’s okay. It’s my fault it’s bleeding. And yeah, that’s Lovey Butterson. They’ve been friends since childhood.”
He nods. “I remember her being around when we were at the Hockey Academy. They don’t really give me the friends vibe, though.”
“Yeah, I agree with you there, but maybe they’re not ready to own it.” Like how I wasn’t ready to own my feelings for Mildred. “Especially with how close their families are.”
“I know how complicated that can be.”
“It worked out for you, though.” I rub the back of my neck as my gaze catches on my wife. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to dig myself out of the hole I made, too.”
Mildred looks stunning in the wine-colored dress she wore to her bridal shower.
And I love that she’s wearing it again. This is a rebellion of epic proportions as far as my family is concerned.
She’s across the room, surrounded by her friends, talking to Meems. Mildred is smiling, but she looks tired.
I wonder if she’s having the same problem sleeping that I am.
For a few months, the away games were manageable because I knew I’d be able to wrap myself around her when I got home.
Now her absence in our bed has made sleep elusive.
Grace Manor only feels like home when she’s in it.
“What the fuck?” Tristan mutters, pulling me out of my head and back to the present.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you know your parents were coming?”
“I wasn’t aware.” Although I haven’t been on speaking terms with my father. I kind of thought my mother wasn’t either.
Yet sure enough, my parents are standing together near the entrance. My father looks polished and put together, as if unaffected by the relentless bad press of the past several days. On the surface, my mother also seems put together, but I know this has been hard on her.
My sisters are the ones my mother leans on when she needs support, but I sent a fruit bouquet and her in-home massage therapist to Portia’s last week when she was staying there so my mother would know I was on her side.
She called me a few days ago and broke down, apologizing for…
everything. It doesn’t fix anything for either of us, but at least we’re both acknowledging that even when shit goes sideways, we’re still family.
“I’ll be back,” I tell Tristan.
“We’ve got yours,” he says.
I cross the room, heading for the man who has always made me feel like less-than so he can feel bigger. I’m done making my own life more difficult. I don’t have to create fights where there are none.
My mother looks appropriately nervous at my approach.
I lean in and kiss her cheek. She doesn’t need me to tear her down more than my father already has.
I turn to him and offer a placid smile. “I hope you’re here to offer support and not stir shit up since you don’t always deem this library worthy of funding. ”
He rolls his shoulders back. “Your mother thought it would be good press for us to attend, that it might help repair some of the damage that’s been done.”
“Don’t you mean the damage you’ve done?”
His jaw works. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The whole world knows what I’m talking about.
At least own the fact that you messed up instead of trying to gaslight everyone into believing whatever fiction you’ve created in your head.
You didn’t think about anyone but yourself.
You never think about anyone but yourself.
” I stop myself and lower my voice, because the last thing my mother needs is more people talking.
“Because if you did, you would see how unbelievably lucky you are to have someone who is willing to stand at your side after you’ve disgraced not only your name, but your entire family.
How does it feel to be the embarrassment instead of the embarrassed? ”
“I made one mistake—”
“You mean on top of this one?” I tap my chest.
“You’ve made your point, Connor.”
“Have I, though? It’s not everyone you’ve affected that you’re worried about.
It’s just how you appear. You don’t care if your daughters can’t leave the house without being heckled.
You don’t give a shit that you broke my mother’s heart, or that you went out of your way to make my wife feel like trash.
I spent my entire childhood seeking your approval.
I don’t want it or need it anymore, especially not after your hypocrisy and the way you so carelessly humiliated our family. ”
Mildred and Hemi move to the stage, seeking the audience’s attention so they can announce the winners of the silent auction.
Meems has found her way over to us. She steps in to kiss my mother on the cheek, but doesn’t greet my father with the same affection.
He’s lucky she doesn’t stomp on his foot. I know she’d like to.
I move to stand between my mother and Meems, bending down to whisper an apology for not bringing her something to drink, although it looks like someone else took care of it.
“The handsome one with hands the size of baseball mitts brought this to me.” She squeezes my arm. “Everything okay?”
“Just fine,” I promise and focus my attention on my wife. I haven’t spoken to her since I broke both of our hearts, apart from a brief and tense hello at the hospital when Lexi gave birth to baby Ariel.
Hemi starts by thanking everyone for attending, and then the silent-auction items are claimed by their winners, most of which happen to be my teammates. Mildred is definitely on the edge of emotion as the total amount raised keeps growing, and then it finally reaches two million dollars.
Her voice wavers as she adjusts the mic and thanks everyone for their generous contributions.
I glance down at Meems with an arched brow.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you should do it,” she whispers.
I smirk and raise my hand, calling out, “My family would like to make an additional donation!” I wink at my father and head for the stage.
Mildred looks nervous. This is appropriate considering what she knows about my family dynamics.
Hemi gives me a look that tells me if I pull an asshole move, every single horrible promo op will be mine until the end of my time with the Terror.
My mother looks terrified, and my father looks like he wants to bury me. But Meems nods her approval. She and Mildred are the only ones who matter.
“I promise this will be good,” I assure Hemi when I reach the stage. She gives me the smallest of nods.
I turn to my wife. “You look beautiful.”
“What are you doing?” Mildred says through a tense smile and clenched teeth.
“Fixing the things I can for the people I care about.” I turn to the mic and raise a hand. “Hi, everyone.”
A confused murmur runs through the crowd.
Someone takes a photo. Several phones rise, and the media covering the event move in.
“A round of applause for Wilhelmina Reddi-Grinst, Aurora Hammerstein, and Mildred Grace for their hand in organizing this spectacular event.” I clap, and everyone joins in.
“And to all the incredible donors and sponsors who have helped raise two million dollars in support of Toronto Central Library’s community programming. ”
More clapping follows.
“On behalf of my parents and my grandmother, the Grace family would like to make a donation in Mildred’s name.”
A collective gasp runs through the room and is echoed by my wife.
“Mildred has opened my eyes to the importance of library programming and free access to knowledge. My grandmother has always championed libraries, and in her honor we would like to match the funds raised tonight and double our donation, and we will continue to do so on an annual basis to ensure that these programs are able to continue indefinitely.” I turn to my parents.
“Mom, Dad, and Meems, Mildred and I are so unbelievably grateful for your generosity. Thank you for supporting us.”
Mildred looks shocked, and my dad looks like he might burst into flames of rage.
But I’ve just secured funding for every program Mildred could possibly dream up, and I’ve spun a beautiful new lie that paints my family in a positive light. Now maybe my sisters will be able to leave the house without sunglasses before the next millennium.
“Thank you so much,” Mildred whispers into the mic.
My mother claps enthusiastically, her eyes full of emotion as she calls out, “We’re so happy we can support you both.”
Hemi steps in and takes over, and I reluctantly leave the stage and my wife.
Everyone claps and cheers as Hemi wraps up the auction.
My father leans in, speaking through gritted teeth, “How dare you—”
“How dare I make you look good? How shameful am I now that I’ve saved your reputation and shone a positive light back on our family?
” His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“Don’t worry, though, I didn’t do it for you.
I did it for my mother and sisters.” I clap him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”