The Good Father (11 page)

Besides, Brett had tasted her cooking.

“Yeah.” She took her first bite of salad. “I met Lila yesterday. She’s a great find, Brett. You chose well.”

The compliment rolled past him. He wasn’t the one who’d conducted interviews. He’d just read reports. His one condition on founding the shelter, his one completely selfish mandate, was that he remain anonymous. He did not feel fit to be a spokesperson for the cause. Or in any way trained to help victims.

He didn’t want their gratitude.

Because he didn’t feel worthy of it.

He had his strengths. The things he was good at. And those were the things to which he dedicated his life.

“I’m just glad that you’re willing to help out while you’re here,” he said. “They’re very lucky to have you.” And Chloe knew, as did Ella, that no one at the Stand knew that Brett was their benefactor.

He’d had a text that morning, informing him of the personnel addition. His mother kept herself fully abreast of every aspect of her responsibilities where he was concerned. And kept him well informed.

He couldn’t fault her for that.

Or for much else, either, truth be told. Through years of nursing her terminally ill daughter, while also bearing her husband’s mood swings, the drinking, the lost income and then the beatings, the woman had endured far more than any human being should ever have to.

If he got frustrated with her silence, that was on him.

Cody started talking about the sandbox again, and Ella, who’d only eaten a quarter of her meal, offered to take him outside to play for a few minutes.

The air felt chilled as she left his side, but Brett was glad for her to go. He’d been so busy trying to keep himself immune to her that her presence was interfering with his ability to form a plan.

Chloe put down her fork the second her son was out of earshot. “Did you talk to Jeff about...his issue?” Her long, dark hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned toward him, and she pushed it back.

“I asked him what he thought the issue was.” Brett wasn’t going to lie. But aside from that, he’d do what it took to make this right.

“And? Did he admit to getting angry?”

“He told me that he’s said some things that he regrets. He takes full accountability for coming home tensed up from work and taking it out on you.”

“He said that?” Her eyes opened wide. “Or did you put the words in his mouth?”

“I didn’t know them to put them there. He just told me what happened the night before you left. Alluded to the fact that it wasn’t the first time he’d brought his work home with him in a negative way.”

But who didn’t have a bad mood now and then? When people lived together there were bound to be times when one or the other was irritable. Short-tempered. Angry. None of that added up to abuse. Not even close.

“He told you about me standing in the doorway and him pushing through it?”

“Yes.”

Tears still glistening through the hope he read in her gaze, Chloe sat there watching him. As though she was waiting for something.

It was time for his plan.

And he didn’t have one.

CHAPTER TEN

N
EVER IN A
million years would Ella have seen herself waving goodbye to Chloe, who was driving off in her car, while she stood in the parking lot of Uncle Bob’s with Brett. But here she was.

Never in a million years would she have expected him to ask her to stay behind for a few minutes, or to offer to take her home afterward. But he had.

The grin on Chloe’s face made it only too obvious that her sister-in-law thought Brett’s interest in Ella was personal.

Ella knew better.

“Take a walk?” He motioned to the sidewalk that bordered the beach, stretching for more than a mile in either direction.

The area wasn’t deserted. The beach, the sidewalk, weren’t teeming with tourists the way they might have been on a hot summer Sunday night, but many locals, dressed in pants and shirts, some with sweaters on instead of swimsuits and shorts, populated the area.

“Sure,” she said, glad that she’d worn flat sandals with her jeans. It wasn’t like old times, she reminded herself. While she and Brett had walked along the beach every single time they’d come to town, they’d never been on this particular stretch of sidewalk together.

And they weren’t holding hands.

“It was a great idea, having Chloe work at the Stand,” he said as they started out, side by side, with enough space between them that there was no chance of brushing hands.

“It’s a two-way street, you know? She helps them, and they help her. I’m hoping that she’ll get help for her situation through the residents as she works side by side with them.”

She had no way of knowing whether or not Brett agreed with her. He didn’t reply. In the old days, the good days, she’d have known exactly what he was thinking. Because he’d have told her. In the latter days of their marriage, the ones during which their relationship had started to fade right before her eyes, he might have nodded.

Today’s response was completely expected. Normal. For present day.

But he’d asked for this time. This walk. Not talking wasn’t fair to her.

“So what’s up?” she asked when, in the past, she’d have remained silent in an effort to give him whatever it was he needed.

“The plan.”

“What plan?” She knew the ocean was there, off to her left. Was aware that there were people around them. But Brett, his steps, his breathing, his scent, was her only focus.

Just like always.

“You asked for my help.”

“I know. And I’m incredibly grateful that you’re being so good about it. Thank you, Brett. I was...nervous about asking you...”

“Nervous? Why?”

She shrugged, instantly uncomfortable. A simple thank-you. That was all that had been called for. It hadn’t been meant to turn personal.

But she wasn’t going to subjugate herself to his needs anymore. They weren’t a couple, and she had no reason to hide.

“I was afraid you’d be angry.”

“Angry at you? For asking for my help?”

His surprise astounded her. “Pretty much everything I did in the last months of our marriage pissed you off,” she reminded him with a half chuckle. They said that when you got to the point that you could laugh about things, they no longer had the power to hurt you.

They were wrong.

“You almost never pissed me off, Ella.” His tone was stern. As though if he spoke firmly enough, he could make what he said true.

His memory was skewed, but correcting him wasn’t worth dredging up old pains.

“I was tense with you, I know that. But it wasn’t because of anything you did. It was all me. I should never have let myself believe that I could live a normal life as though my childhood hadn’t happened.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. Afraid.

“Why?” she asked, understanding neither his sudden openness, nor her fear.

“Because I knew I couldn’t be the husband you needed me to be. The husband you deserved. And then, when the baby was there, a part of you, but coming from me...I realized what I was doing to him. Or risking doing to him...”

“Maybe you should have spent less time judging yourself and trusting me to be the judge of what I needed.” She didn’t mention the baby.

His rejection of their child, after all those years of trying, had been her breaking point.

“You deny that you were hurt by my...reticence?”

She supposed, if they were going to work together to help Jeff and Chloe, they had to do this. Now that enough time had passed and they could discuss things rationally. Without letting emotion get in the way. Because the heat between them was long gone.

“I don’t deny that.”

They walked. Passed people along the way. She couldn’t have identified a single one of them.

“You needed something from me emotionally that I don’t have in me to give.”

“You had it when we met in college. And during the first few years of our marriage. Through all of the disappointments...”

Those first few times they’d tried to get pregnant and hadn’t been able to.

“I was a kid. I grew up.”

“You walled yourself off.” She’d thought, at first, that it had been his way of dealing with the constant disappointment. She’d had to steel herself from the worst of the pain, too, in order to be able to try again. It wasn’t until later, when she’d found out she was finally going to have a baby, that she’d realized how far apart they’d grown. When she realized they hadn’t really talked in far too long.

In some ways, he’d become someone she didn’t know at all.

Darkness wasn’t far off. She should be chilled. And wasn’t.

“I am a man who knows his limitations. Who accepts them and is accountable to them. I’m only sorry that I realized it too late. I should never have married you.”

If there’d been any emotion in his voice, any sign that he missed what they’d had in the beginning, she might have found more to say.

And she might have been a fool and started to hope that they could have something together again. Because the only limitations Brett had were the ones he put on himself. She’d lived with him long enough to know that.

And since she was never again going to go through the painful fertility treatments only to have a better-than-average chance of losing her baby, he wouldn’t have to worry about being a father.

But there was no emotion because Brett was Brett. He was the man his life had shaped him into being. Reticent. Closed off. Capable of seeing a divorce lawyer before he’d even told his pregnant wife he wanted time apart.

Capable of looking her in the eye and telling her he didn’t want anything to do with the child they’d taken years to conceive...

She no longer loved him. The road she was traveling down led nowhere...

Still, just because she was over him didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be nice to know that he had regrets. That she’d meant as much to him as she’d thought she had. Once.

“If we’re going to help with Jeff and Chloe, we need a plan.” His voice, the practicality of his words, put an end to her wayward thoughts.

“Okay.” Plans were good. Solid. But how did you make one when people’s lives and hearts were at stake? How did you plan to get someone out of denial?

Other than change his life so drastically he’d have no choice but to acknowledge he needed help?

Which was what they’d already done. The drastic life change—Chloe living with her—was in effect.

And from what she’d gleaned during the little bit she’d heard between Chloe and Brett when she’d returned from the sandbox with Cody, Jeff was still firmly in denial.

He’d admitted to the fights. Admitted that he’d started them. Because of tension from work. But he had no real idea why Chloe had left.

“A good plan starts with a goal, and I need to make certain that we’re on the same page here before we go on.”

That was why he’d wanted her to stay back and talk to him? She was relieved.

And disappointed, too.

Which only went to prove that hope died last.

“Am I to understand that your goal, like mine, is to see Chloe and Jeff back together in a healthy relationship?”

He sounded like a counselor in a classroom.

“Yes. Definitely. They love each other. I’ll do anything I can to help them save their marriage. But my primary goal, first and foremost, is to see that both of them get and/or stay healthy.”

“Agreed.”

So...good. They shared a common goal. There was something in that.

“Do you know if Chloe’s had a checkup lately?” he asked.

“Medical, you mean?”

“Yes.”

She frowned. Glanced over at him for the first time since they’d set out, but couldn’t make out his expression in the darkening evening. She’d already told him there was no documentation of Jeff’s abuse.

“Why?”

Jeff had admitted that the fights were his fault. They were just one step away from him admitting to the escalating physical violence that was accompanying those fights.

Before it was too late and he did something that would require outside attention. Medical, as well as legal.

“I just wondered about her overall...stability.”

“It’s not great, based on everything that’s going on, but Chloe’s not the one we need to worry about. She’s in a position to get help. It’s Jeff who scares me. It’s like, over the years, he’s stretched himself so tightly that now, when something pulls on him, he breaks. And then as soon as it’s over, he goes back to his old self again. And hates himself for breaking.”

“This is based on what Chloe’s told you.”

“Yes.” And the bruises she’d seen the day after the last fight when she’d taken her sister-in-law’s phone call and hightailed it to Palm Desert to get her and Cody out of there.

“You’ve never witnessed this...change in him.”

“No.”

Ella wished she had. She might know better how to help her brother if she could see him in action.

They walked in silence for a minute or two.

“You didn’t answer my question regarding her medical care.”

“Why? Did Jeff say something about her being unstable?”

“Just that she suffered some depression after Cody was born.”

“Postpartum. Yeah, she did. She took medication for about six weeks and has been fine ever since. Why? What does that have to do with anything? Is Jeff putting this on Chloe? Saying she’s depressed?”

“He’s looking for explanations,” Brett said.

“And you? Do you believe him? Is this why you wanted to see Chloe? To judge for yourself if she’s emotionally stable? In one dinner?”

“I’m not taking sides here, El. I just want a full picture so that I can be of assistance. Come up with a clear plan.”

Of course. She’d forgotten who she was talking to. The modern Brett, not the emotionally vulnerable man she’d fallen head over heels in love with the day she’d met him. The robot, not the man.

“Chloe gets regular medical care. I know this because she’d had an appointment the week before she came here to get her birth-control prescription renewed. On top of that, I’m an RN. I live with her. I’d notice if there was anything amiss.”

“It’s getting late. We’d better turn around.”