17. Paris
SEVENTEEN
PARIS
MEMPHIS:
You home? I grabbed the boys a bucket of baseballs because we couldn’t find any in the garage last week. And I bought some new books for Len. Figured I’d swing by and drop them off.
ME:
We’re here. They don’t have practice tonight, so I’m trying to check some stuff off my to-do list.
MEMPHIS:
When are you not doing that?
ME:
I’ll rest when I’m dead. See you in a few.
I’m elbows deep in my crisper drawer, fishing out less-than-fresh vegetables when I hear the door open, the boys screaming in excitement as my brother gives hugs and high fives.
Even Lennon gets in on it, loudly squealing for her Moo Moo.
I know she only says his name that way because she’s still learning to talk, but part of me hopes she never stops.
In fact, I hope all three of my children are always this happy to see their uncle.
That was something we never got to experience growing up.
As kids, our household was strict. We were told to keep our voices down and act prim and proper in front of visitors, our parents putting on a facade that we were the perfect, happy little family.
We were sent to our rooms if we got our school clothes dirty, and we’d have probably been grounded for weeks if we ever dared to shout inside the house.
They lifted their thumbs just a bit during our teenage years, although the semi-freedom was yanked away in a hurry the moment I told them I was pregnant.
All the blame was put on me for—in their words—opening my legs before marriage, which is why I agreed to Braxton’s proposal immediately.
I never really felt like I had a choice in the matter, to be honest. I was seventeen with no job and nowhere to go.
My options were to either do things our families’ way or risk being cut off completely.
I’d already disappointed my parents enough, so I didn’t push back when they insisted that we make things right by getting married.
I played the part of the doting wife, just like I was taught, but deep down, I wanted better for my children.
I wanted them to have the freedom to be themselves, and to never question how perfect they are.
Thanks to the unwavering love and support I’ve gotten from my brother since the day I told him I wanted out, they’ll be able to look back on these times as happy ones. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for.
“Hey, loser,” Memphis says as he enters the kitchen, a playful grin curving one corner of his mouth.
Lennon is perched on his shoulders, with what looks to be a brand-new cardboard book clutched in her tiny little hand.
He sets her back down on her feet, giving one of her brown pigtails a gentle tug as she immediately opens the cover of her latest read and giggles at the colorful picture on the first page.
“Hi,” I reply, abandoning the veggies and shutting the refrigerator. I wash and dry my hands quickly before joining him at the island, my aching feet thanking me when I pull myself into one of the high back barstools. “How was practice?”
He shrugs. “It was practice. Dale, one of the equipment managers, was cleaning stuff out and had a bunch of balls that he was just going to toss. I figured they’d be put to good use here since your hellion of a younger son keeps hitting them over the fence, never to be seen again.”
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. Our neighbor, Mr. Edmund, is the epitome of a grumpy old man.
As much as the boys try not to, some of their baseballs end up in his yard.
I’ve knocked on his door and apologized profusely—even brought him flowers and baked goods—but apparently, it wasn’t enough to entice him to toss back the balls that occasionally land on his property.
Finders, keepers, I guess.
“Do you have plans for dinner?” I ask. “I don’t feel like cooking, so I was going to order something if you want to stay.”
He nods. “Yeah, we can do that. My treat, since you’re obviously paying the big bucks for a landscaper. Glad you finally took my advice, by the way. They did a hell of a job.”
My stomach twists, guilt sitting at the bottom of it like a brick.
It’s not that I feel like I need to hide the fact that Austin has been here a few times to help out, but I also don’t know if Memphis would like his friend being so close to his sister.
Between the age difference and the fact that he was the one who put all my broken pieces back together after my divorce, reminding me every day that I can do this on my own, would he think it was a good idea to bring someone new into my life?
Then again, I work with Austin, and he’s the boys’ coach, so I guess it wouldn’t raise too many red flags if he swung by every now and then to give me a hand.
And my brother said it himself—Austin helps everyone, so what would make me any different?
Besides the fact that sometimes, we kiss when nobody’s looking. That’s definitely different.
Deciding that it’s better not to completely lie, I paste on my most nonchalant expression, jerking one shoulder into a half shrug.
“Actually, I didn’t. Austin stopped by a couple of weeks ago and saw that the lawn was only half mowed, then offered to take care of it.
That turned into hedge trimming, and yesterday, he weeded the walkway. ”
“Mmmm,” he hums, narrowing his gaze as he scans my features.
He’s silent for several long moments, the only sound in the room coming from whatever video game the boys are playing on the other side of the wall.
My skin feels tight, anxiety prickling at the surface as I try to remain cool.
But just as I’m about to fill the empty space with unnecessarily explicit details of all the other stuff I’ve been doing with his friend, he speaks.
“I’m surprised you came clean about that,” he says, sucking his teeth as he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Gotta be honest, Pare. I expected a lie.”
My brows furrow, my mouth falling open. “You knew? Did he tell you?”
Memphis shakes his head. “Nope. Oakley said the two of you looked pretty cozy when she pulled up to get the kids on Family Day, and figured I had the details.”
My cheeks heat, memories of that very day wrapping around me like a tight embrace.
Austin holding me as we watched the boys play, goosebumps rising along my skin with every word he breathed against it.
The way he scooped me right up and ran with the boys hot on our heels, all four of us laughing the entire way.
Then, there was our trip to his place, where he gave me a first kiss that rivaled even the most romantic book boyfriend.
It was the best day I’ve had in a long time, and the competition isn’t even close.
“I wouldn’t say we were cozy. He dropped by in the middle of a water balloon fight and ended up on my team.
It really wasn’t a big deal,” I reply, doing my best to downplay the situation.
Austin said that we could keep getting to know each other and see where things go, but that he was cool with keeping things quiet.
I like that there’s no pressure for us to label anything, especially when I may not be the type of woman he’s looking for.
As we continue, he might realize how demanding my life as a single mom is, leaving me with little time and energy to nurture new connections.
Or maybe my inexperience will be a turnoff when the time comes, and I have no idea how to please him.
That would cause a huge rift between him and my brother, which I definitely don’t want.
His expression softens. “You know, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if it happened to be more than that.” My eyes go wide, landing on his as he sits forward, lowering his voice before he continues.
“I know everything with Braxton fucked you up. You were both so young, and you were gaslit into thinking you had to get married. You did everything you could to make it work when he was too selfish and immature to put in the effort, but that’s done and over with.
It’s not too late to start over and find the love and happiness you’ve always deserved. ”
I fight back tears, my throat tightening with emotion.
He’s right. Braxton and I were too young to be husband and wife, but after getting pregnant unexpectedly, we were scared to go against what we were being told to do.
Unfortunately, our families were more concerned with how things looked from the outside—and the embarrassment we brought to their names—than they were with complicating an already-complex situation by pushing us to make vows we didn’t even understand.
Pair that with the fact that neither of us had the best role models when it came to being in a loving, respectful marriage, and we were doomed from the start.
Despite all of that, I tried my best, but he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his youth.
With a newborn to care for and a husband who was putting in minimal effort, I had no choice but to grow up quick.
I lost little pieces of myself in the process, giving all I had to everyone else until one day, I looked in the mirror to find a complete stranger staring back at me.
I was Braxton’s wife. Rowan, Rhys, and Lennon’s mother.
But the outgoing, bubbly, ambitious girl I used to be was nowhere to be found, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get her back.
“I just…” I trail off, the words getting caught in my throat.
A tear falls down my cheek, but I bat it away, worried that the boys may walk in.
I’ve tried so hard to stay strong for them, even though sometimes, the pain seems like too much for one person to bear.
“What if I’m too broken to start over? The only thing I know about relationships is how to fail at them. ”
He reaches out, settling his hand on my forearm.
I sniffle, looking up at the ceiling as I blink the emotion away, hoping that he’ll let it go.
I hate being sad in front of my kids when all I’ve ever wanted was for them to have memories of a happy home.
But as always, my brother refuses to let the conversation end without saying his piece.
“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” he says, his tone firm yet tender.
“You were seventeen years old. Mom and Dad were so caught up in their purity bullshit that they were willing to force you into a box that was never meant to hold you. But breaking free wasn’t the end of your story, Pare.
It was just the beginning. All you have to do is open yourself up to the possibility of a fairytale ending. ”
I’m a blubbering mess at this point, gratitude squeezing at my heart. Memphis can be a wiseass sometimes, annoying me to the ends of the earth with his I don’t give a fuck attitude, but nobody cares about my happiness more than he does. And that’s never been clearer than it is right now.
“Listen,” he continues, and I raise my watery gaze to his.
“I’m not trying to stick my nose in your business.
I don’t know if there’s anything going on between you and Austin, and I don’t need to.
I’m just saying that you deserve something for you.
And you know I’ll support whatever you choose, as long as you aren’t trying to get back with your microdick-having loser of an ex-husband. ”
I can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles up my chest. I mean, he’s not exactly wrong, although I don’t have much to compare it with.
I’m convinced that the saying it’s not the size of the ship, but the motion in the ocean was created by men like Braxton to make up for the inches they lacked.
Unfortunately, said motion left a lot to be desired, as well, which is why I never got too sad when he didn’t want to have sex.
My fingers got the job done a hell of a lot better, and I didn’t have to listen to them grunt in my ear for three minutes before they left me unsatisfied.
Not that my brother needs to hear any of that.
I nod in agreement, deciding not to get into what’s happened between me and Austin. It’s still really new, and I have no idea if it’ll go beyond a few kisses in the supply closet before he changes his mind. I still want to protect their friendship, first and foremost.
“How’d you get so smart, anyway?” I ask, a watery smile tugging at my lips.
I feel lighter knowing that he’s always in my corner.
No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have my big brother, who will happily pick me up, dust me off, and lovingly bully me into moving forward.
“For a guy who never keeps a woman around for more than ten minutes, you sure have a lot of big feelings.”
He rolls his eyes, lifting a dubious brow. “Tell anyone, and I’ll deny every word.”