Chapter 20
FORD
As the days go by, Brielle seems to ease more. Well, at least I catch her smiling while she flips pancakes this morning, barefoot in my kitchen.
I head straight for my prize, wrap my arms around her middle, and sway us side to side. “You’re spoiling him.”
“It’s pancakes.” She laughs.
“You cook him full breakfasts every morning. Don’t even try to hide it, I see your magic witchcraft.”
“They’re chocolate chips.”
“Exactly.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she flashes me an odd look. I just shut it down with a kiss.
She shimmies me away and stacks a plate with pancakes. “Come on, Connor will be down in a minute or two. I set the table outside.”
“Okay, I’ll grab my coffee.” I walk to the machine and make my cup while she grabs a few items.
We walk together, and I take a plate from her so she doesn’t need to juggle everything. I’m studying the bowl of scrambled eggs and questioning if Connor realizes he is treated like a prince when I nearly run into Brielle.
“No way!” Brielle shrieks and stops in her tracks when we open the sliding door.
I bump into her slightly before I realize she is frozen, and when I look forward, then I know why.
“Is that…” I angle my head to the side to study the pool.
“A raccoon.”
We both stay in place because we don’t want to scare away the raccoon that is literally swimming in the pool. It’s like a little dog, paddling around in laps.
“This is not normal,” she says, adamant.
“Just great, now I’m going to have to empty the pool,” I whisper, not thrilled.
“Why?”
“He probably has rabies or something. Doesn’t even seem fazed by us.”
“I think he’s just warm.” Brielle takes a cautious step forward. “What do we do? Scare him away? Damn, if only we had a dog now.”
I hand her the bowl of eggs I was carrying and take matters into my own hands. I pull out my phone, pull up a song, and turn the outside speakers on because clearly this animal finds us too quiet.
With the song now playing, Brielle looks at me and bursts out laughing.
The racoon finally notices that he has an audience and is quick to swim to the steps.
“Are you seriously scaring him away with Taylor Swift?” She’s in hysterics now.
I shrug a shoulder. “You’re messing with my playlist algorithm.”
Her eyes study me. “Or you are just secretly a Swifty fan.”
With the racoon running into the woods, Brielle stumbles her way to the table because she is ridiculously happy in this very moment.
I love that.
Joining her at the table, I bring her to my arms because the rumble of her laughter against my skin is therapy.
“Seriously, what the hell was that, right? I mean, it’s never happened,” I note.
She places her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. Most guys are into Taylor Swift, you can admit it now. It’s cool to like her.”
I roll my eyes. “Not that. The raccoon.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I’m positive it’s an omen.”
“I’m going to be researching this all morning now.”
Her laughter subsides, but it’s still there.
“Dad, your tablet in the kitchen is going off. It’s the front-gate app,” Connor calls out from the door.
I wave to him in thanks then check the app on my phone. I see that we have a visitor at the security gate, as the app sends a notification.
I curse under my breath when I see who is on the other side. I show Brielle the screen.
And there goes any morsel of happiness on Brielle’s face.
She straightens her posture. “Why is my father here?”
“I don’t know.” I turn to Connor. “How about you take your pancakes and go watch some TV or read your book.”
Connor doesn’t protest.
Checking with Brielle, I know our great morning now took a sharp turn. We were not expecting Brielle’s dad, that’s for sure.
We both give one another a look of recognition and confirmation.
We’ll face him.
And a few minutes later, we do just that.
Brielle’s father appears from around the corner of the house, since I told him we were out back.
“Was the raccoon an omen for this?” I mumble as Brielle leans into my arm.
Her father slows in his approach, pausing at a distance from us. “I guessed you would be here.”
“You could have called and asked if you really wanted to find me,” she mentions.
“It’s okay, it’s just the proof that you haven’t been thinking clearly the last few weeks.”
I stand tall and my shoulders roll back. “What the hell does that mean?”
“She’s so blinded by your charm that she fails to see she is always following your lead.” Jim is coming out swinging, clearly.
Brielle waves her hands in the air between us, doing her best to break the tension. “I’m right here, you know. I think I can speak for myself.”
Her father turns his attention to her. “You’re really going to marry him?”
“Why would it be a bad thing? Whatever you may think, even if you choose to ignore the fact that I love him, Ford is Connor’s father, he will always be in our lives.”
“Can’t you see it? Everything is always on his damn timeline. Every decision has been around him, and you fool yourself by saying every decision is for Connor.”
I step forward, ready to defend, because if I believed in fighting then I would strangle him right about now, and the same thought keeps circling back to me, as it has been the last few weeks. I can’t decide if it’s because he is planting theories in her head or if it’s because I believe it.
“What’s the point of coming here? We already heard you back at the hospital,” I inform him.
“I’m concerned for my daughter. She’s been through a lot lately, and your rushed reunion is cause for care.”
Brielle sneers and brings her hands to her hips. “Lately? I’ve been through a lot lately? Why don’t we rewind to when you told us that you would only support me if we agreed that Ford and I couldn’t be together.”
“It was for the best. The statistics on young parents staying together are slim.”
I swipe my hands through my hair as I blow out a tight breath. “If you care to disrespect us, then please get off my damn property.”
“Exactly, your property. You dangle a reunion in front of my daughter, after you build a house that she had no say in, in a place where maybe she doesn’t even want to live. You set the parameters for all of her decisions going forward.”
“What? As opposed to you and the first years of Connor’s life? I’d sell it all if she wants, but look around, and then maybe you’ll see that I’ve only ever had her on my mind. This is her house because I built it with her in my thoughts, down to the bench swing that I know she loves.”
Jim searches Brielle’s face, but he struggles as she lowered her head.
“I’m your father. I’ll give you advice whether you want it or not, and I’m going to say that I think you need to slow down because you or Connor don’t want to get hurt if you realize that the relationship you had in your head isn’t what you dreamed about when you were eighteen. ”
“You need to go,” I snipe.
Brielle has gone quiet, and I can tell she wants to burst into tears.
“Is that what you want, sweetie?” he has the audacity to ask her.
“I think it’s for the best,” she sniffles.
I grab his arm to lead him away, but he yanks it back, ignoring me. “I do love you, Brielle. Remember, your mother and I supported you and Connor, always have and will.”
“You may have been there at the start when we were confused,” I snap. “The moment I could, I provided for her. Through the years, you and I, we’ve managed to be respectful. Thanks for ruining that streak,” I say, sarcastic.
“We all know that we will do anything for Connor. Make no mistake, Ford, the moment you moved in on Brielle again, I was reminded of what you will always be.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’ll always be the guy who got my barely eighteen-year-old pregnant who then put her life on hold while you got your hockey dreams.”
“Enough!” Brielle holds her palm up, and she’s now over the edge of calm. “Get out, please,” she begs.
A stiff moment of silence overcomes us before Jim gets a clue and nods goodbye to his daughter.
He disappears around the house, and I turn to look at Brielle who has a red face, tears streaming.
Instantly, I pull her into a hug with her face buried into my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
She sobs for a good minute or two, until the moment she pulls away and peers up to me. “I don’t know what is worse right now. Everyone looking at me with pity or feeling like I should check that I’m not blinded by lust and missing a clue.”
“No. Do not do that. Don’t let him get to you,” I urge with extreme worry and fear.
She doesn’t answer.
We’ve had distance between us before, but it’s a thousand times worse when I’m literally holding her in my arms. She’s the person who made me believe that all the hope we’ve both carried was for a reason, because us together could finally be within our grasp.