DAN STARED AT his menu and tried to ignore the small talk at the table. Red wine was preferred over white. Valerie would pick the bottle. Brooke and Jason chose lobster-stuffed mushrooms over calamari. Dan wanted water, three less courses and to get to the important stuff: Valerie’s plans.
The waiter memorized their orders, collected the menus and slipped away as discreetly as he’d arrived.
Valerie beamed at Brooke as if more than content to continue the get-to-know-you portion of the evening. “Do you ever travel?”
“I used to.” Brooke arranged her silverware on the table as if organizing her thoughts.
The wistful catch in Brooke’s voice pulled Dan into the conversation. Brooke must’ve traveled with her late husband. How much had her life changed after his death? How much did she regret?
Dan missed those brief pauses in the routine. Would a night away be enough for Brooke or would she want something more extravagant?
Brooke continued, “It’s more complicated to travel now with my pets.”
What if Brooke could bring her pets? Dan stilled. Traveling with Brooke and her dogs wasn’t the focus tonight. Or ever. “Traveling is Valerie’s life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with following your passion.” Valerie passed the water glasses from the waiter around the table. “People would be happier if they did what they loved.”
Brooke squeezed a lemon into her water. Nothing sour squeezed into her tone. “Sometimes people have to do things they don’t like, to get to do what they love.”
What did Brooke love to do? Dan picked up a lemon from the small plate, considered sticking it in his mouth. Maybe the bitter taste would force him to focus. This dinner wasn’t about Brooke and learning more about her.
Jason picked up his water and tipped the glass at Brooke and Dan. “Sometimes doing things with the people you love is more than enough.”
“It’s more magical when you’re all in an exotic location.” Valerie dropped dinner rolls on everyone’s plates.
“Only to you,” Jason countered. He pushed away the roll and the beer Valerie had ordered for him.
If Jason had meant to dent her resolve, he’d failed. Valerie’s optimism required no time to recover. “Well, Jason is a professional poker player. He also gets to do what he loves and travel.”
“I’ve never been good at cards,” Brooke said. “Sounds like you must have better skills.”
“Or better luck,” Jason said.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Dan said. “He’s been patiently and diligently studying poker and the players since high school. It’s more than luck.”
Jason grinned and relaxed into his chair as if relaxing into a good memory. “You never had good luck.”
“You’d think my little brother would’ve helped me out with some advice.” Dan speared a stuffed mushroom on his fork, comfortable in the memory and the common ground with his brother. “Instead, Jason invited me and my friends over for poker tournaments and took all our pizza-delivery money.”
“I did give you a cut of the winnings for filling up the tables.” Jason aimed his knife at Dan.
“Quite enterprising,” Brooke said.
“And fun,” Dan said. “We even invited our dad and his friends to join in.”
“I’m not sure Dad has played since that night,” Jason said. Laughter lingered in Jason’s tone, as if hesitant to come out. As if his brother hadn’t laughed in far too long.
Dan let his own laughter roll across the table. “Dad has worse luck than me.”
“Jason is quite talented. Recently, though, luck hasn’t been a very kind companion.” The softness in Valerie’s voice only added a sharper point to her words. “Wonder what side of the family that comes from.”
Valerie had always preferred to veil her criticism inside a compliment. His brother’s laughter quieted.
“Poker is a long-term game.” Both Jason’s face and demeanor stiffened. “And you have to know when to leave the table.”
“You also have to play again to win,” Valerie quipped.
Dan eyed his brother. He used to be able to read him. Yet Jason mastered the art of masking his emotions. Now his face was much leaner, giving him a harder edge. Even the laugh lines around his eyes looked shallow. Dan asked, “You haven’t been playing?”
Jason shook his head but offered nothing more.
Dan wanted to press. But this wasn’t the time. His brother had always lived for the next game. The next shuffle. The next deal. What had changed?
Valerie sampled the wine and gave her approval to the waiter. That was where her approval ended. Disapproval twisted her mouth into a grimace. “Jason calls it bankroll management.”
Not a surprise. Jason had always excelled with finances, budgets and numbers. Math had never been Valerie’s forte. Then again, her father had funded Valerie’s every whim until his death. Dan had taken over their household finances, assuming that responsibility in their marriage, as well. Dan had expected she’d have learned on her own. The money in her trust fund wasn’t endless. “Budgeting isn’t bad, Valerie.”
“You sound just like your brother.” Valerie pierced her mushroom cap with her fork.
“Thanks for the compliment.” Dan toasted Jason and earned something from his brother he hadn’t seen in a long time: a genuine smile.
“Enough money talk. Ben needs a passport.” Valerie grinned around her bite of mushroom as if she’d suggested Ben should get a new haircut.
Dan blinked. The connection between him and his brother disconnected like a dropped call. While Valerie’s comment splattered on the table as if the waiter dropped Valerie’s fish, whole and still breathing, in front of them all. Dan opened and closed his mouth. “Why would Ben need a passport?”
“So he can travel with me.” Valerie straightened and waved her fork absently between herself and Jason. “Or us.”
“You want to take Ben with you?” Dan asked. Clearly, he was like that fish, gasping for air and clarification.
“Absolutely.” Valerie pointed her fork at Dan. “He’s old enough to start experiencing more of the world, Dan.”
“Ben is ten.” A child. A kid who loved soccer, basketball and game night with his family and friends. How much more of the world did a ten-year-old need to see? Dan pushed away his plate. The lobster and mushroom were at war in his stomach.
“I’ve met ten-year-olds who speak multiple languages and have been flying international flights alone since they were six.” Valerie served the remaining appetizers to everyone as if being the proper hostess was her only concern.
But those weren’t Dan’s kids. Or his responsibility. Or his concern.
“You want Ben to have a passport,” he repeated, desperate to believe he’d heard her wrong.
“Ben should travel,” Valerie said.
“Why?” Dan asked.
“I always wanted to travel as a child, but Father’s work kept us home,” Valerie said.
Her father’s work had provided a large estate in the city and comforts few knew growing up. Dan also knew from Luann that Valerie’s father had promised Valerie the world, but he’d passed away before he’d given it to her. Apparently, Valerie still expected to have it.
“I want to give Ben the chance that I didn’t have.” Both of Valerie’s palms flattened on the table as if she needed help supporting her claim. “As his mom, I have that right.”
Dan had rights, too. Like to refuse. “I have full custody—legal and physical. You signed the divorce papers.”
Valerie stacked the appetizer plates, set them aside along with his argument. “I’m still his mother. The courts want children to spend time with both parents.”
“But not out of the country.” Without his father. Exasperated, Dan wasn’t sure if his statement was true or not. But the panic surged like multiple defibrillator charges on his chest. She wanted him to put Ben on a plane to fly overseas. Alone.
“Why not?” Valerie challenged. “I’m talking ten days to two weeks. Nothing permanent.”
The only permanent thing in Valerie’s life was her continuous travel.
Dan looked across the table at his brother. Jason had retreated again, his face impassive as if he’d checked his hand and simply waited for the table to place their bets. Had Jason known this was what Valerie wanted? Ironic that Dan would insist Jason be there from the minute Ben stepped off the plane to the second Ben boarded for his return flight home. As if Dan was going to agree to this. As if Dan trusted Jason more than Valerie. How could that be?
Jason hadn’t been a part of Dan’s inner circle for more than six years. And yet, clearly, the bond was difficult to sever. The trust difficult to break. Or was that only more useless wishing on Dan’s part? It’d been a long while after all.
He tried to focus instead on Brooke. She sat beside him: steady, calm, unfazed. He shouldn’t have asked her to come tonight. He should tell her to leave and enjoy her evening.
Brooke reached over, slipped her hand into his.
The chaos inside him receded. The gentle strength in her touch grounded him. Her grin was small, but endearing. Quick, but encouraging. Dan swallowed his offer to walk her out.
Brooke aimed her smile at Valerie, compassion in her voice. “I’m not sure Dan is comfortable with Ben traveling outside the country without him.”
Brooke understood Dan. Why couldn’t Valerie? Dan held on to Brooke’s hand as if she anchored him. Selfish, he knew. This wasn’t Brooke’s fight. His fingers remained locked around Brooke’s as if they belonged together. As if they were meant to conquer the world side by side.
Valerie picked up the wine cork and lifted her arms up as if she’d won the jackpot and the round. “Then Dan can join us, too.”
“I can’t just fly to Europe or wherever you are, Valerie.” Dan struggled to silence the impatience in his voice. Valerie had never wanted to understand. That clearly hadn’t changed. “I have a job. Responsibilities here.”
“You always did have too many responsibilities.” Valerie tapped the cork on the table and eyed him. “But our son should come first.”
How many sleepless nights had he spent at the hospital with Ben? Even more at home. Then there were the frantic phone calls for advice to the doctors and nurses he knew from work. The uncertainty. The constant worry. The fear of being unable to fix his own son. The helplessness. Ben had never come second. Not then. Not now.
Brooke’s grip tightened around his hand, reminding Dan that he wasn’t alone. That he had support. Then and now.
“Everything Dan does is for Ben. Always,” Brooke said. Her voice was kind but firm. “But I’m certain you already know that, Valerie.”
“I know that Ben deserves the opportunity to see the world.” Valerie twirled her wineglass between her fingers. The resolve in Valerie’s tone matched Brooke’s. “I believe Ben should be given the choice.”
“He’s ten years old,” Dan repeated. Brooke’s touch was like a mute button on his frustration. His voice never slipped past mild. Perfectly suited for the hushed atmosphere in the upscale restaurant.
“That’s certainly old enough to have an opinion,” Valerie countered.
Also, old enough to get hurt if Valerie changed her mind at the last minute. That said nothing about caring for him, making sure he had the right medicine and proper supplies. “Ben doesn’t need to travel for you to spend time with him. You only need to come here.”
“He has you here in the city, Dan.” Valerie raised her hands as if spreading out a map of the world in front of them. “I can show him so much more.”
“Where would you take Ben?” Brooke asked, her voice interested, her manner calm.
Everything Dan was pretending to be. He kept Brooke’s hand tucked inside his. He liked the idea of Brooke being with him and his family too much. He’d come to his senses at some point. Then he’d let go. But that was later.
Even Jason leaned forward as if interested, too.
Valerie tapped her chin. “Monaco. The coast of Italy.”
Those were the same places Valerie had wanted Dan to visit, despite his full-time job and obligations. Places, if Dan was honest, he’d like to visit. If not for his job and those obligations that came first. If not for wanting to give Ben the best home he could afford.
Jason frowned. “The Amalfi Coast is too hard to get around. And Monaco is better suited to adults.”
His brother sounded as perplexed by Valerie’s suggestions as Dan felt.
“Fine.” Valerie pressed a napkin into the corner of her mouth and recovered her smile. “There’s always Venice and Scandinavia.”
Jason rubbed his hand over his chin, his gaze narrowed, a look of uncertainty overtaking his expression. “Dan and I would’ve only wanted to swim in the canals in Venice when we were Ben’s age.”
“Or at least get into daily splash wars,” Dan suggested. That earned a grin from Jason and a scowl from Valerie.
“We’d have gotten into a sleep-off in Scandinavia, daring each other not to fall asleep since it would’ve been daylight all day,” Jason said.
“They have sleep masks,” Valerie said.
Jason shook his head, his voice skeptical. “Not any that a ten-year-old will keep on.”
“Fine.” Valerie retied her silk scarf as if rearranging her proposal. “Where do you suggest we take Ben?”
“Simple.” Jason shrugged. “Liverpool, England, to see a soccer game.”
Dan toasted his brother, warming to that suggestion. “I could be tempted to travel for that.”
Brooke leaned forward, excitement in her tone. “Could you really get tickets?”
Jason tipped his head, curiosity in his dark gaze. “Would you be interested in joining us?”
“I was just curious.” Brooke sat back and pulled her hand away from Dan’s as if she’d overstepped herself.
Dan wanted to take her hand back.
“I’m sure Jason knows someone who can get us tickets to a soccer game,” Valerie interrupted. “However, I don’t think that’s the best idea for Ben.”
“Why not?” Brooke asked the question on Dan’s mind. And from the rise of Jason’s eyebrows, on his mind, too.
“Surely Ben has enough exposure to soccer here at home.” Valerie’s voice was earnest and sincere. “Shouldn’t his vacation be about learning and seeing new things?”
Brooke’s chin dipped up and down. “That is part of traveling.”
“Ben would be visiting soccer stadiums larger than anything he’s ever seen,” Jason argued.
Dan waved his hand toward his brother. “That would be new.”
“It can’t be about soccer, soccer and more soccer.” Valerie’s fingers tensed on the stem of the wineglass, yet her face remained composed.
“Why not?” Dan asked. If it was about Ben, then it should be about what Ben liked.
“There are over thirty soccer leagues in Europe.” Jason grinned and thanked the waiter for his entrée. “It could really be all about soccer.”
“What else, though? It needs to be about more than that.” Valerie held up her hands. “Let’s do this. Everyone tell me your favorite childhood vacation.”
Everyone quieted. Only long enough for the rest of the entrées to be placed on the table.
Brooke’s soft laughter broke the silence. “We were supposed to spend Christmas in the Florida Keys one year. But bad weather and diverted flights stranded us in Idaho. We ended up in a one-bedroom cabin with a woodstove burner, no TV and a deck of playing cards. I still remember snowshoeing to the general store for supplies since they had no rental cars available.”
“We can relate.” Dan cut into his steak, appreciating the too-hot plate and the fun memory. “On one of our road trips, our grandma stole all the condiments from the restaurant tables—the small jams, syrups, individual butters. Then we got stuck in a massive pileup on the interstate for over ten hours. Mom gave us crackers and syrup in desperation to stop us from whining about starving to death.”
“I forgot about that one.” Jason separated his vegetables from his pork chop.
His brother had never liked his foods comingling on his plate. The tension inside Dan receded—he was pleased some things hadn’t changed.
Jason continued, “I was going to say every one of Dad’s shortcuts. Mom would never say we were lost, only that we were having an adventure.”
“We never did make it to any place that we originally set out for.” Dan smiled at the wonder in his own voice. Their parents really had created the best memories for their kids. He wanted Ben to have the same.
Brooke leaned toward him. “Where did you stay?”
“We slept at campsites we stumbled upon or motels. Sometimes even the truck.” Dan slid into the memory: blankets piled up past the truck windows. Jason on one side of the bench seat, Dan on the other. On those nights, Dan had stared at the stars until he’d fallen asleep, content and happy and secure. Everything he’d always wanted Ben to feel with him.
“I wonder if Dad remembers telling us that sleeping in the truck was rodeo-style camping.” Jason looked at Brooke and Valerie, laughing. “Dad liked to tell us if we slept in the truck, we could get on the road early and not miss anything on our way to our next destination.”
“Mom always bought something from every little town.” Dan wished their mom was there now to open a jar of honey and insist Dan sample the best thing ever. “She’d claim it was the absolute best fudge, barbecue sauce, honey or pie she’d ever tasted. Until we came upon the next town with more pies, honey and fudge, and those became the best things ever.”
“I wasn’t asking for your horrible vacation memories.” Exasperation dimmed Valerie’s smile, dismay stole the lyrical notes from her voice. Valerie waved over the waiter to refill the water glasses as if everyone needed to pause and refresh.
Brooke accepted the bread basket and Valerie’s advice to dip the bread in the steak sauce for an exceptional bite. Brooke said, “These are good memories.”
“You cannot be serious.” Valerie positioned her fork and knife properly on her plate to signal she was finished eating and wanted to quit this part of their conversation. “We definitely aren’t putting Ben through any of that.”
“Why not?” Brooke asked. “Sometimes the unexpected is wonderful and life-changing in a good way.”
“Or it is unpleasant and dreadful.” Valerie pointed at Dan. “You never liked the unexpected. You always wanted everything planned out in advance, in detail.”
“I still prefer that.” He still had a job and commitments that tied him down. Picking up and flying to any international destination still wasn’t feasible or practical. Dan eyed Valerie. “Are you telling me that you make plans now, too?”
Jason choked on his sip of water. “Never.”
“That isn’t true.” Valerie brushed the bread crumbs into a pile, then into her hand. “I have a very good one for Ben.”
Dan frowned. When did Valerie decide to make plans for her son? Making plans for Ben sounded eerily close to a parent’s job. Like Dan’s job. The one he’d accepted for them both when Valerie had refused to come home and then signed the divorce papers. “That isn’t your job.”
Valerie set down her wineglass swiftly, but with grace. “It is if Ben is vacationing with me.”
Brooke rested her hand on Dan’s leg, her voice even. “What is your plan, Valerie?”
“To live life rather than endure it.” Valerie’s expression softened, and her inner joy returned, lighting up her face. “We could tour medieval castles in England. Watch the centuries-old changing of the guard in London. Explore the science museum in Amsterdam and bike around the historic city. Discover new Dutch foods like stroopwafel and kroket. Meet new people and learn about new cultures.”
Dan searched for a snag. Ben liked bike riding and science, and would most likely enjoy an ancient castle with a torture chamber. Dan wanted to hate Valerie’s plan. Instead it was the extra thought Valerie had put into vacationing with Ben that he disliked. “If you do all that now, what do you do next summer and the one after that?”
Valerie perked right up at that. “You travel to a new place. Make new memories.”
“Sounds expensive and extravagant.” He’d finally discovered the catch. Not everyone enjoyed a life bankrolled by a trust fund like Valerie’s. Yet even that money was limited. How much longer could Valerie afford to travel the world? Her own mother had been forced to go back to work after the death of Valerie’s dad to keep their home. Dan wasn’t certain Luann had the extra money to continuously refill Valerie’s trust fund. “There’s also college to save for.”
“Life is meant to be experienced now, while we can.” Sadness filtered across Valerie’s face.
Ten years had passed and still Valerie hadn’t seemed to accept her father’s passing. How long could Valerie run from it? Dan glanced at Brooke. Was she still grieving her late husband?
Valerie added, “Jason agrees with me.”
“College trumps everything,” Jason said. “You don’t want Ben to graduate with even more debt.”
“I’ve never even used my degree. You haven’t needed the one you never finished.” Valerie adjusted the ends of her scarf as if aligning her argument. “Look at what we’ve done. We’re both fine.”
“You have the benefit of a trust fund. Normal people don’t get those.” Jason tossed his napkin on top of his plate, his tone defensive. “I was lucky at the poker table more than once. Again, not normal.”
“You’re saying we aren’t normal.” Valerie laughed. “Thank goodness for that.”
“This lifestyle is not normal,” Jason said.
“We never wanted to be like everyone else,” Valerie argued.
“Well, now I’m thinking it might not be such a bad thing.” Jason spoke as if to himself, not the entire table.
Yet the weariness in his brother’s tone reached Dan and he wanted to help.
“This is the life I have always wanted.” Valerie commanded the table’s attention. She handed their plates to the waiter and accepted the dessert menus in exchange. “I won’t apologize.”
“No one is asking you to.” Brooke took the dessert menu from Valerie. “We all have different lifestyles. Dan wants different things for Ben.”
“Dan wants Ben to be just like him.” Frustration pushed a blush across Valerie’s face. “Ben will end up stuck in place. In a rut. Afraid to step out of his comfort zone. Afraid to take a risk. Just like his father.”
“Children change things. Being a parent changes things.” A headache threatened, or maybe it was the hammering of their same argument resurfacing. “If you tried being a full-time parent, then you might understand.”
“I understand you’re refusing to let Ben travel with his own mother.” Valerie set her hands on the table and stared at Dan. “I understand we’ll need to take this up with a judge in court.”
The headache exploded across his temple. Dan couldn’t contain the frustration. “You can’t be serious.”
“Very.” Valerie nodded. “While we’re there, I’m asking for joint custody.”
“Why?” That came from Jason. Confusion bracketed the one word.
“Then I won’t need Dan’s permission. Just a power of attorney from a judge to get Ben a passport.” Valerie stood up. “I’m not as flighty and reckless as I look.”
Jason coughed and cleared his throat with a long sip of water.
But Valerie was still as impulsive as ever.
Brooke asked, “You’re willing to go to court over a passport?”
The surprise in her voice comforted Dan. He wasn’t the only one caught off guard.
“It’s about more than that,” Valerie argued. “If Dan can’t see that now, maybe the judge can help him.”
“This will certainly leave some lasting memories.” Bitterness poured through Dan’s voice, unavoidable and unstoppable.
“I’m trying to make sure Ben lives life to the fullest.” Valerie swung her coat over her shoulders. “We’re going to give ourselves indigestion and ruin a lovely meal if we continue this now.”
Too late. Dan started to rise.
“You stay, Dan, and enjoy dessert with Brooke. You can share more childhood memories.” Valerie waved him back into his seat. “Jason will cover the bill.”
Jason caught up to their waiter and disappeared, leaving Dan’s objection unheard. That headache rolled down Dan’s neck and squeezed into his shoulders. He and Valerie had skipped court during their divorce. Surely she wouldn’t want to go now.
The headache pulsed and throbbed. All Dan really knew for certain was that Valerie was still unpredictable. And seemingly absent of any doubt. The last time he’d tried to call Valerie’s bluff, he’d ended up a divorced, single parent.
Dan shifted, prepared to apologize to Brooke and leave.
Brooke sat beside him, studying the dessert menu as if it was her last meal. As if Valerie’s throw down of the court battle and abrupt departure hadn’t given her sweet tooth a cavity.
Brooke closed the dessert menu and glanced at him. “I see no reason to pass over bread pudding with caramel-rum sauce.”
“I’ve always preferred molten-lava cake,” he said.
She never flinched. Simply ordered both desserts, then smiled at Dan. “We’ll have both and try to change each other’s minds.”
Her smile dared Dan not to like her dessert challenge.
But Valerie’s mind was the one Dan should be changing. He shouldn’t be lingering over dessert with Brooke. After all, this was not some quaint date.
His ex-wife had just brought the family drama to the dinner table and spread it out like a feast for everyone to pick at. Dan hadn’t stopped Valerie.
He should stop whatever it was between him and Brooke. Change their dessert orders to take-out. They could retreat to their own places with their own desserts.
Instead he picked up the extra spoon and dipped it into Brooke’s bread pudding.
Challenge accepted.