The Good Father (32 page)

“Please? Just come inside with me.”

He stopped cold. But didn’t run away. “No one knows who you are.” She was giving him that. Taking his hand, she opened the door and pulled him in behind her.

The group that waited for them took even Ella’s breath away. Everyone she’d ever met at the Stand was there. All crammed into the public vestibule. They wore welcoming smiles.

Not one of them, not even Lila, who she didn’t immediately see in the crowd, knew what she and Brett knew.

They were there to give support to a victim. None of them knew they were meeting their founder.

* * *

S
EARCHING FOR
L
ILA
, needing the other woman to smooth her way, Ella led Brett to the group of people. The managing director always hung back; she knew that.

“Hi. I’m Maddie Bishop.” The slim, young blonde stepped forward, her speech slurred but still discernible. “I live here, and I’m married and have a baby, who I take very good care of.”

“Good, Maddie.” Lynn Bishop, still in her scrubs, stepped forward. “Welcome,” she said. “Lila was unfortunately just called to an emergency, so I’m in charge. This is highly unusual, actually a first, but Ella asked to have some support out here for you, so here we are. I’m Lynn Bishop, and you just met Maddie, whose biggest challenge is to talk to men without fear.”

Others followed suit. Introducing themselves. Telling Brett and Ella just a little bit about their reasons for being at the Stand. Lila had come through in a huge way. She’d understood what Ella had needed—for Brett to see that there was a world where victims lived and thrived and learned to do much more than merely survive.

Not just to know it, but to experience it. To feel it.

As Chloe had done. And Nora and so many women and children before them.

Nora introduced herself. She looked better, less vacant, but still far too thin. Ella told her so, asking about Henry as Nora gave her a hug. The baby was in the nursery being watched over by a grandmotherly resident who hadn’t wanted to come out front.

One by one, people came up to them. Brett greeted each one of them with detached politeness. He was friendly. Charming. But gave no indication that he recognized any of the names he was hearing.

She knew he had to recognize them. Additionally, he knew far more about these people than they were telling him.

It was also clear that none of them had a clue as to who he was. There was no reason why they should. Ella had kept his secret. But he’d had to trust her on that one.

Her heart was in her throat, but Brett didn’t appear to be feeling anything at all as he took in the scene around him as though from a distance.

Scared all over again, Ella wondered if she’d done too much too soon. Exposing him to an overload of emotion when he’d allowed none for so long. He was locking himself away again. She could feel him drifting...

But an overload of emotion was what it was going to take to show him he wasn’t going to suddenly sprout horns because he allowed himself to feel.

And what better place than The Lemonade Stand to take his chance? She felt sick. Her knees were shaking, and she looked for a place to sit down.

And then Sara Havens was there. “This is Sara, Brett,” Ella said, ready to split apart at the seams. “I’ve spent the past couple months getting to know her. Sara, this is my...ex-husband.”

She’d brought him there to out him. To force him to face himself, for his sake, and hers, too, and for the sake of the child she carried.

But mostly because her heart wouldn’t let her leave Brett—even during all of the years they’d spent apart.

“Welcome,” Sara said. “I’ve enjoyed my time with Ella. And I’d like a chance to speak with you, as well. So—” she glanced at Ella “—does your ex-husband have a name?”

Brett looked at Ella. She held his gaze. She was in control—this was her show and the hour wasn’t up—but she was going to leave it up to him how he played it from there.

His gaze bored into hers and she watched as the light dimmed, as moisture started to appear, and then something changed. Something entered Brett’s gaze that she didn’t recognize.

“He does,” Brett said. His chin tightened. His jaw got stiff. “I’m Brett Ackerman.”

Not one person reacted, other than out of the same polite interest he’d given them. They were strangers, there if he cared to join them. If not, they’d move on.

Ella held her breath. He could leave it at that. No one would ever know who’d visited them.

He could continue to hide away in the safe home he’d created for himself someplace deep inside. But it was a home he’d have to live in alone for the rest of his life.

If he turned away now, he was committing himself to a lifetime of solitary confinement.

And leaving her and their child out in the cold... Her panicked thoughts were interrupted when Brett spoke again.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Sara, Lynn, Maddie...everyone. What Ella needs...the reason she’s called us all here together today, is because she needs me to tell you...that... I am the founder of The Lemonade Stand.”

* * *

T
HE ENTIRE ROOM
went silent. Brett could hear every breath he took. Could feel the beating of his heart in his chest.

Sara Havens, for all of the glowing reports he’d read about her ability to handle any situation with grace and calm, gaped at him. Lynn Bishop, a woman he’d pictured as much larger and sterner than the slender, graceful, strawberry blonde she was, was the first to speak.

“You’re our mysterious founder?” She was one of the Stand’s senior employees. Next to Lila McDaniels and Sara.

“I am.”

He could feel the stares all around him. The residents. He’d recognized every single one of them. By name. By story. Not by their faces.

“Ella?” Sara was looking between the two of them, the question tugging at every sinew of her body.

“Yes.” Just the one word, but Brett had a feeling she’d told Sara far more than he was comfortable with.

He didn’t like how the woman looked at him. As if she knew everything about him. And had expectations. As if she wanted to hug him and punch him all at once.

But perhaps that was just his take on the situation.

A low buzz started in the room full of people. His instinct was to leave. As quickly as possible.

For a moment he thought he might need a seat. Or an ambulance. He couldn’t breathe all that well.

Fresh air was all he needed. Space.

To be left alone.

“You are
him.
” Maddie stepped forward, sounding as though she had a couple tongues in her mouth.

She’d been deprived of oxygen at birth, was neurologically challenged, Brett knew. He also knew that the young woman had been married right out of high school to a man who’d kept her locked in a room and beaten her on and off over the next decade.

“I want to thank you for paying for The Lemonade Stand,” she said, enunciating with obvious effort. “I am very happy here, and if you did not do this, I would not be happy. Or have a baby.”

“I’m happy, too.” A tall man, also obviously challenged, stepped forward, putting his arm around Maddie. “I am in love and have a wife and so my brother can be happy, too.” Darin Bishop—Brett would have known even if the man hadn’t introduced himself.

And so it went. One by one people came forward again, thanking Brett. Telling him how he’d saved their lives.

One by one, he listened. He smiled. He encouraged them.

And one by one, they pierced his heart.

* * *

“
Y
OUR EX-HUSBAND
, the one you came here to talk about two days ago, is our founder.” Sara stood just off to Brett’s right side with Ella, watching him.

“Yes.”

“You knew he was the founder of this place?”

“I was married to him when he bought the land. So yes, I knew.” She’d heard the dreams first. For a couple years. She’d helped with the plans. Had thought The Lemonade Stand was going to be their project. Together.

And then he’d cut her out of his life. And away from everything she’d invested her heart in for so many years.

She’d invested in Brett because she loved him.

And she was never going to be free of him for the same reason. It wasn’t about control or manipulation, being a groupie or too dependent, or being a victim. Some of those things played a part, but ultimately, between her and Brett, it was the love that mattered.

That was the bond that was stronger than all the others.

Stronger than fear.

As the room eventually cleared, Sara looked at her. “So what now? Does Lila know?”

Shaking her head, Ella looked at Brett. “No,” she said. “But she needs to meet him. Do you know when she’ll be free?”

“Not for sure.” Sara frowned. “I wasn’t there when the call came in, but I know it had to do with the sexual abuse of a female police officer.” At that point Sara couldn’t say more if she wanted to. “She’s probably going to be late. But I’m assuming...” she glanced at Brett as he turned to them, “you’d like a look at the place?” He looked to Ella. “It’s her call.”

Brett wanted to leave. Would probably sacrifice a limb or two to make it happen. She read that much in his expression. But he’d made it through the hardest part. She couldn’t have been prouder of him.

“It’s up to you,” she said. “I’d like to show you the grounds. It’s dark, but they’re lovely at night. And we could get a look at the offices and therapy rooms now while they aren’t in use. But...it’s up to you.”

His smile was slow in coming. But when it came, when he said, “Lead the way,” Ella allowed hope to reenter her heart.

* * *

B
RETT WAS GLAD
when Sara Havens finally left them to themselves. The woman saw too much.

Ella showed him the hallways, the conversation areas, the cafeteria and state-of-the-art kitchen. She showed him offices, therapy rooms, a library that rivaled the public institution downtown and a multipurpose theater-style auditorium complete with stage and sound system.

He was impressed. Beyond impressed. His money hadn’t paid for much of what he was seeing. Donors and volunteers made The Lemonade Stand what it was. But his dream had been realized far beyond his expectations.

Eventually they ended up outside in the Garden of Renewal—a natural masterpiece designed by Grant Bishop, Darin’s brother and Lynn’s husband. Ella sat down on a bench by a fountain, and he joined her. Happy to give his knees a rest.

“I know my hour’s up, so you’re no longer under obligation to do what I say, but I want you to marry me, Brett.”

All of the breath that had just started flowing through his lungs again disappeared in a whoosh.

“I know you’re worried about the possibility of a latent rage lurking within you. I know there’s no guarantee that it isn’t. There are no guarantees in life. There are only chances. I know the risks in loving you, Brett. It’s a chance I choose to take.”

Brett wanted to shoot a basket. In a really high hoop. To take a scalding hot shower and sit out by his pool. Instead, he had to sit on a bench and respond.

But before he got around to it, Ella started in again.

“The best we can do in life is face our challenges head-on. To look them in the eye and decide how best to deal with them. One by one. You taught me that.”

It was his way. To not put off the unpleasant, but rather, deal with it as the quickest way of getting rid of it.

“Well, the challenge we have here is your fear of someday becoming abusive. You thought you were doing the right thing by distancing yourself, but all it did was make us both miserable. I think you had the answer all along, you just weren’t seeing your own work. Look around you, Brett. You have provided any protection, any cure, any safety net we could ever need right here. When you offered to give me your house, when I saw myself willing to settle for what you said was the best you could give me, I knew that I was in over my head. I came here, Brett. To talk to Lila and Sara. And now I’m bringing you here.

“This is your shelter from the storms that might rage someday, Brett. This is your place where all of your secrets will always be safe.”

Something rumbled inside him. Something huge. Uncontrollable. And before he could stop himself, Brett started to tremble. His chest hiccupped. And his eyes flooded.

He hadn’t shed a tear since his first year of college. Had sworn he never would again. And as the aching pain of so many years alone, of regrets he could never appease, of lost loves he’d never recover, ripped out of him, she sat there with him. Holding him. Kissing his face. His neck. Saying words he’d never remember in a voice he’d never forget.

And when the pain was spent, at least for the moment, she told him how much she loved him.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, too. She kissed him fully on the mouth. Drawing out of him the things he didn’t yet know how to put into words.

“Will you marry me, El?”

He’d asked once before and gotten it wrong. That had to be a mistake he could fix.

“Yes, Brett. As many times as it takes.” He thought she might be smiling. He almost did, too. And then she said, “And if I ever feel you slipping back into your cave, I’m coming straight to Sara. I won’t suffer quietly and alone again.” And he understood.

She didn’t completely trust him yet. He’d hurt her. Badly.

Issues didn’t disappear overnight.

But she loved him. As he loved her.

“Give me time, love. I’ll show you that I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

“I know it now, too.”

“So this is your choice? To marry me?” In spite of her big words, he saw the doubt in her eyes as she asked the question.

“It is.” His words came right on out. No hold up at all.

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

He sat there, arms itching to take what was his and get on with it. Take her home with him. To his bed. Their bed.

And spend the rest of his life showing her just how open his heart could be.

Except that he wasn’t sure he knew how.

“I’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

And that’s when he truly got it. He wasn’t all that different from everyone else. He had his challenges, but so did she. So did everyone.