Brooke left the Faculty of Veterinary and Animal Sciences Building, heading down to the parking lot where she’d left her old Nissan. She blinked as she emerged onto the front steps, the brightness of the sun causing momentary blindness. Slowly, her vision reappeared, her eyes focusing on the steps in front of her.
Her mom stepped forward, making Brooke jump. Her face was a mask of determination. “We need to talk,” she said, folding her arms across her designer jacket. Brooke knew that look all too well.
It was too late to dart back inside, through the safety of the security doors. Too late to pretend she hadn’t seen her, and veer to the left to avoid another awkward conversation.
“Not now, Mom. I’ll be late to pick up Nick.”
“We can talk in the car. Frederick is over there.” Her mom pointed at the black town car, so out of place among the old compacts and newer sporty numbers, depending on which social strata the local college students found themselves in. “I’ve been calling you for days, and you won’t pick up. So I called Ember and she wouldn’t tell me where you’re staying.” Lilian lowered her voice. “You’re not staying with him, are you?”
Brooke sighed. She so wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Especially on the stairs of the university building, surrounded by students she studied with every day. “I can’t come with you in the car,” she said, her voice patient in spite of her frustration. “My own car’s in the lot. Plus Nick has swimming lessons today, so we’re heading straight there.” She started to walk down the stairs. Her mother followed her, a step behind. She could see her shadow moving.
“At least tell me you and Nick are okay. I’ve been worried to death about you. We both have. The way you left was so childish. I can’t understand you putting your son in danger like that.”
Brooke stopped short. “I’d never put Nick in danger. Never. We stayed with friends for a few days, and now we have our own place. We’re both fine.” And she’d already said more than she intended to. Damn, her mother was good.
She took long strides across the concrete path, her mother’s shoes clicking as she struggled to keep up. This was so stupid and embarrassing. She felt about five years old.
“Where are you living? We need to know for insurance purposes. And what if something happens to you? Who’s going to help you?” Her mom was panting between words. “Will you slow down for a minute? Let me talk to you, for goodness sake.”
Dear God, she wasn’t going to let it go, was she? Biting back a groan, Brooke stopped and turned to look at her mom. She was standing about five feet away, her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. Brooke tried to ignore the guilt tapping at her brain, pushing all the buttons her parents installed from birth.
She’s your mother, she demands respect.
He’s your father, he knows best.
You’re a child, Brooke. Let us make the decisions.
Dammit, they were like fruit flies, buzzing around, distracting her. Impossible to swat away.
“We’re both fine. We’re in an apartment near Silver Sands. It’s clean, it’s nice, and it’s close to the bay. What else do you want to know?”
“How are you paying for it?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“But it is my business. You’re my daughter, and Nick is my grandson. If you’re getting into debt, it could reflect badly on us. Or if you’re doing something…” she lowered her voice, “illegal or immoral.”
Brooke laughed, shaking her head. “Are you asking me if I’m turning tricks to pay the rent?”
“Brooke! Stop it.” Lilian looked around to see if anybody was listening. “You shouldn’t make jokes like that.”
Funny thing was, she wasn’t really joking. She wouldn’t put it past her mom to suspect that. Everything about this conversation was making her want to scream.
“What illegal or immoral things do you think I’m up to?” Brooke asked her.
Lilian shook her head. “Stop evading the question. How are you paying for your apartment?”
“With the money I’ve saved from working every spare moment I’ve had.” There, she’d said it. And she was annoyed at herself all over again.
“And the furniture? How did you pay for that?”
“It’s a furnished apartment.”
Lilian frowned. “You didn’t choose the furniture? Have other people used it? Oh, Brooke.” She scrambled in her purse, pulling out her wallet. “At least let me buy you some new beds. You don’t know who’s been laying on them.”
Brooke could feel her jaw begin to ache from biting her tongue for too long. “Mom, I don’t need furniture. I don’t need anything. We’re fine. Thank you.” Her words were like rifle shots, staccato and loud.
Lilian blinked, as though the sun had caught her eyes. She had exactly the same expression on her face Nick got when he was reprimanded. Sad, innocent, hurt. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I only want what’s best for you.”
Brooke felt her shoulders slump. It was almost impossible to be mad at her mom when she had that expression on her face. She wasn’t a bad person. Okay, so she made some bad decisions – helping her dad kick the Black family out of town was one of them – but she had kindness inside her, too.
“I know you want what’s best for us,” Brooke said. “And I understand you worry about us, but you don’t need to. I’m a grown up. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my child.” She licked her lips, trying to ignore the guilt still tugging at her stomach. “I’m really grateful for everything you and Dad have done for me. For us. But it’s time I started standing on my own two feet, and making my own decisions.”
It was an echo of what she’d said to Aiden, but this time it came out as a plea. Why was it so hard for her mom to understand? All her friends were treated like adults by their parents. Sometimes too much – like when Ally’s dad left her to bail out his failing business. But every time Brooke tried to pull away, her parents held on tighter.
Not anymore, though. It was time to cut the ties.
“But the decisions you make aren’t always good ones, darling.” Her mom pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly. “First, that time with Aiden, and then when you got pregnant with Nick. You were supposed to go to college, to enjoy your teens. But everywhere you went you made wrong choices.”
Brooke’s mouth felt dry. “But they weren’t the wrong choices, because they led me here. They gave me Nick. And look.” She gestured at the buildings behind her. “I’m still in school. I’m still achieving what you wanted me to.”
“But what about this boy? Ever since he came back you’ve changed. You won’t listen to us, you shout at us. It’s all his fault, isn’t it?”
“Aiden isn’t a boy.” And wasn’t that the truth.
“Whatever you want to call him, he’s a bad influence. He was then, and he is now. You’re throwing everything away, Brooke, and it’s his fault. He should never have come back here. You would never have talked to Daddy and me the way you did if it wasn’t for him.”
“This has got nothing to do with Aiden. It’s about me. My need to live my own life. And yes, he might have been a catalyst for this, but I would have gotten here on my own. You stifle me. You tell me I’m not able to make decisions without you, but you’re wrong. I’m an adult. Why can’t you let me be one?”
She couldn’t look at her mom. She couldn’t. Because if she did, she knew she’d see the hurt there, and she’d fold. She’d feel guilty and apologize, and she couldn’t bear to do that.
Couldn’t bear to let herself be dragged back to the life they wanted her to live. Couldn’t bear to give up this future she’d created for herself.
“I’m late to pick up Nick. I need to go. Goodbye, Mom.”
“I’ve had all of the paperwork you requested drawn up.” Mark Johnson, Aiden’s lawyer, pushed a buff envelope thick with paper over to him. “This is your copy. I want you to read through and let me know if you have any questions. You told me the father is absent, and the mother has primary custody, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“And have you talked this over with her? You say you want the child to benefit from the trust at the age of eighteen. Is she happy with that?”
Aiden glanced at the envelope in front of him. “I haven’t discussed it with her.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason for that?”
“She doesn’t like the thought of me helping her. Said she wants to stand on her own two feet. But if something happens to me, I want to know they’re both taken care of.”
“And that’s where your will comes in. The draft of that is in the envelope as well.”
Aiden nodded. “Thank you. And what about the other matter?”
“Your brother?” Mark pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and pulled a green cardboard file folder toward him. The man preferred paper to virtual documents. “As requested, we engaged the services of a private investigator. From what he’s ascertained, your brother is still in Clapman Prison. They’re considering him for parole next month. Though we have no idea whether it will be granted or not, but all indicators show he’s kept his nose clean while he’s been incarcerated.”
“So there’ll be no reason to deny him?” Aiden’s chest felt tight. Apart from seeing him at their mom’s funeral, he hadn’t heard from Jamie in years. Hadn’t wanted to. There was nothing between them except DNA, and he preferred to keep it that way.
“Did you look into his rights as a father?” Aiden asked. Mark cleared his throat, looking through the piles of paper on his desk. “The first thing I did was check the birth certificate. There’s no father listed. But all he’ll need is a simple DNA test to assert his rights.”
Aiden felt his blood run cold. “And what exactly are those rights?”
“As a father, he has the right to petition the court for custody. Whether it’s every other weekend, joint, or full. He also has the right to make decisions on medical treatment, welfare, and educational matters.”
Aiden shook his head. “You can’t be serious. We’re talking about an eight year old kid who’s never laid eyes on this man. You’re saying my brother has rights even if he’s never bothered to meet him? Even if he’s been in jail for years?” He couldn’t believe that was true. There had to be a mistake.
“He could argue that the exact reason he hasn’t seen the child was because he was incarcerated,” Mark pointed out. “Courts in California look at what’s in the best interests of the child, and usually that best interest includes having both parents in their lives.”
“Even if one parent is a drug dealer and a felon?”
Mark shrugged. “They’ll take that into account, but they’ll also take into account the fact he’s paid for his crime and has been rehabilitated into society. Just because you’re a criminal doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent. I’m sorry, Aiden, but that’s the law.”
The thought of Nick having to spend time with Jamie made Aiden want to hit something. The last time he’d seen his brother before he was arrested, he’d come around begging for money. When Aiden had refused, Jamie had come back later, and begged their mother for help instead. When she’d told him she had nothing to give him, he’d ransacked the house like a madman, stealing her jewelry and phone. Everything he could find.
And the courts might give a man like that access to Nick? It made him want to vomit.
“So what can I do to stop him?” Aiden asked.
“Honestly? You’re best off waiting and seeing. He probably won’t want anything to do with his child. After all, he’s not bothered to contact the mother at all in the past eight years. There would be no reason for him to do so now.”
Unless he heard Aiden was around. Or stopped to consider that Brooke had access to her parents, who were the richest couple in Angel Sands.
“And if he does come here and demand his son?”
“If he does, you can come back and talk to me,” Mark said. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll help you and the mother fight it all the way.” He lowered his voice. “But you have to be prepared that he’ll get some level of custody, and he’ll definitely get the right to make decisions. Your best hope is that he doesn’t come around, or if he does, he signs away his rights.”
Aiden slumped back in his chair, defeated. If Brooke knew any of this – if she even had an inkling that Jamie might come back – she’d panic like crazy. She’d been bad enough when she’d thought they were homeless. God only knew what her reaction would be if Jamie asserted his rights. Damn, she’d be a mess.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“I want you to keep the PI on retainer. Ask him to monitor the parole board, and let me know the outcome of any application for release. And if Jamie gets out, I want to know every move he makes. I can’t take the risk he might come back here.”
Mark scribbled a note on the legal pad in front of him, and nodded, looking back up at Aiden. “Of course. When he gets out, you’ll be the first to know.”