Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was a couple of days later. Brodie was out of hospital and back at his condo.
It was the longest he’d ever lived in the apartment, he even had milk in the fridge.
His body had recovered. His mind, however, was still catching up, fighting off the sense of being totally overwhelmed by trying to stick to his life motto of one day at a time.
The sparseness of his condo meant there were no distractions.
He’d spent too much time on Instagram, following the San Diego trip, zooming in on photos of Caleb’s yacht crashing through the waves.
It looked so fun. He was contemplating whether he should buy a PlayStation for something to do, when Maeve’s number flashed up on his phone.
He found himself smiling as he answered. “Hi.”
“Hi, Brodie, it’s Zoey.”
He felt a perplexing twinge of both disappointment and pleasure. “Hey, what can I do for you?” he asked, sipping his coffee, hand wrapped round the mug.
“Would you like to do something together?”
It felt like a punch to the gut, so exquisite it was painful. Better than sailing, he realized. “Yes,” he replied, trying to keep it cool, emotion doing funny things to him, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. “What d’you have in mind?”
“I was thinking Disneyland.”
“Zoey!” He heard the warning from Maeve in the background.
“Ok-ay,” she relented.
Brodie said, “How about we start with going to the park? Play a bit of basketball?”
“Can we go for a Cookies and Cream Dream?”
Brodie had lived in Autumn Falls long enough to know every flavor of milkshake in the diner. He heard Maeve again say, “Zoey…”
Zoey said, “We don’t have to get a milkshake, I can bring water.”
Brodie smiled inside. “I’d love to get a Cookies and Cream Dream with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Quarter of an hour later, Brodie rapped on the door of Maeve’s house, his nerves on edge, smoothing back his hair in the reflection, pulling at his T-shirt. It was worse than any date. The fear of rejection was acute.
Maeve opened the door looking unbelievably lovely in a white shirt and jean shorts. Still with the ugly mushroom shoes, but he’d grown quite fond of them. Her hair swept over one eye, like she hadn’t had time to do anything with it. He felt his unaccustomed nerves get stronger.
“You look better,” she said.
“I feel better,” he replied. “Totally fine.” Which belied the constant knot that had appeared in his stomach.
She seemed to sense his nervousness and smiled up at him through dark lashes. “That’s good.”
He had rarely been around a woman he was this attracted to for this long without at least kissing her. It made him unfamiliarly awkward in his movements, like all of a sudden he’d forgotten how to stand still.
“You all right about this?” Maeve asked.
Brodie nodded, although he felt increasingly terrified.
Maeve seemed totally unaffected. “What are you going to do if there’s photographers or anything like that? Will you just make sure that Zoey is safe, please?”
“Maeve, I’m old news. People don’t take photos of me anymore. I’m boring.”
She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “I don’t think that’s strictly true.”
Did that mean she didn’t think he was boring?
Focus, Brodie!
“Look, we’re going to have to deal with it sooner or later,” he said. “If I see a photographer or someone takes a picture on their phone, I tend to just smile and wave. It’s the best way to deal with it.”
Maeve nodded uncertainly.
Brodie wanted to ask her to come with them. But before he could say anything more, Zoey came bounding down the stairs in dungarees and a yellow top.
“Hey, you look like a Minion,” he said.
Zoey paused, looked down at herself and immediately turned around and went back up the stairs. “I have to get changed.”
“I didn’t mean—” he called but Maeve shook her head and said, “You’ve done it now, day’s ruined.”
“You serious?” He could feel himself start to sweat.
“No!” Maeve laughed, incredulous. “Brodie, she changes her outfit about five times a day. It’s fine.” She seemed to realize then that he was actually nervous. “You’ll be fine.”
“You wanna come too?” he asked, not the suave invite he’d been intending, but half desperate, half hopeful.
Her expression softened but she still shook her head. “No. You two just have fun together.”
“You sure?” Brodie asked. He’d like to sit opposite her having a milkshake, he’d even found himself wondering what flavor she’d get. He’d pipped her for a Strawberry Serenade kinda person. It was Willow’s favorite, too. “The more the merrier.”
Maeve said, “Brodie, you don’t need me there, you’ll be fine.”
He wanted to say that she’d read it wrong. He didn’t need her—although she would be useful—he wanted her there.
Zoey came back then in a purple top under her dungarees.
Before Brodie could ask her to join them again, Maeve said, “Bye, guys, have fun.”
“Bye, Mom.”
He found himself momentarily reluctant to step off the porch, felt the unfamiliar tug of the warm, easy sense of family created when these two were together, but he tore his gaze away from Maeve’s doting smile and turned to his daughter. “Right, you’re teaching me to shoot hoops, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah!”