Brandon cleared his throat and stretched out on the couch. “No,” he answered, instead of asking her what the hell she wanted. It had taken a long time, several years, for him not to feel anything at the sound of her voice. When he’d realized she wasn’t coming back, his longing had turned into resentment. And with each phone call, he’d wanted to demand why. Why they weren’t important enough for her to stick around. Why her own dreams took precedence over the child she’d given birth to.
Now he wasn’t sure what to feel. Longing? Anger? Brandon was confused except for the mild annoyance that she thought she still had the right to check in on them. As though she actually cared about their well-being.
“What do you want, Trish?”
Her soft sigh flowed through the phone line. “I left the circus,” she told him.
A thousand responses flew through his mind, including one that had him asking why he should give a shit. Because he didn’t. Only he sort of did. After all, it was the same gig that had taken her away from them in the first place.
It didn’t take her away; she walked out on you.
Yeah, he could sit there and blame Ringling Brothers until the cows came home, and it wouldn’t change reality. That she’d chosen to leave. Packed her bags and turned her back.
“Why?” he asked anyway, because, shit, he was only human and curious as hell.
“I…” Her words broke off and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of Brandon’s stomach. “It just wasn’t where I wanted to be anymore.”
He gripped the phone tighter. “And why is that?” he asked, even though the voice in the back of his mind told him not to give her the time of day. They’d had conversations similar to this before.
She sighed. “I want to be back in Matt’s life.”
“What makes this time different from all the others?” He hadn’t meant for his words to come out so harshly.
“I don’t expect you to believe me,” she said in a quiet voice. “But I’ve left for good and bought a house in Oklahoma City.”
Which meant…what?
Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose as his thoughts automatically went to Matt, as they always did. Because the kid was always his first concern, his well-being and happiness meaning more to Brandon than his own did. Because that’s what being a parent was about. Sacrificing your own happiness and stability to provide and look after this other human being that you were responsible for. Something Trisha had never understood.
He forced down the old resentment that always bubbled up when he talked to her.
“Why are you telling me this, Trisha?” he asked, needing her to cut to the chase.
There was a moment of silence before she answered. “I told you, I want to be back in Matt’s life.”
He chuckled without a trace of humor. “And you think it’s that easy, huh? That fourteen years after you walked out on us, you can call, say you left the circus, bought a house, and I’ll just go ahead and open the door for you?”
“Of course not,” she admitted. “I understand it’s been a long time. And I understand that I put you through a lot.” She blew out a breath. “I…can’t make up for what happened. For the hurt and disappointment that I caused you.”
Brandon waited for her to continue, but silence fell. Damn, he shouldn’t feel anything. Her words weren’t supposed to create an ache in his chest. But they did because Matt’s happiness was all that mattered to him.
“All right,” he finally muttered, knowing he’d kick himself later for allowing her another chance. At least a chance to explain herself.
“How is he?” Trisha asked after a moment.
It was the same question she always asked, and Brandon always answered. “He’s good. He has a girlfriend.”
Brandon could practically hear Trisha smiling. “What’s her name?”
He swallowed before answering. “Adrienne.”
“How long have they been together?”
Brandon leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. “About five months.”
Trish paused before responding. “Is she a nice girl? Good enough for him?”
Like she had ever cared. “Yeah, she’s a good girl. She’s been accepted to UT.”
“Smart and ambitious,” Trish said with a smile in her voice. As if she was pleased, even though this was the most interest she’d ever shown in Matt’s life.
“Trish, what’re you doing?” he asked, putting a halt to her questions. “Why are you asking me all this?”
“Because I want to know how my son is doing,” she replied.
“You’ve had fourteen years to know how your son is doing,” he pointed out. “Why the sudden interest now?” Matt had only been three when Trish had left for good. Fourteen years was too long. Too long for her to be so disconnected, then try to waltz back in.
“Look, I don’t expect you to throw me a welcome home party,” she told him. “I thought maybe”—she cleared her throat—“that maybe I could just talk to him. I would really love to hear his voice.”
The tremor in her voice was unmistakable, sort of how she got after Matt was born and she couldn’t get the kid to stop crying. She’d look up at Brandon with tears in those big sad eyes, and he’d step in and fix everything. Just as he’d always done and eventually Trish had stopped trying with her own baby. Brandon had taken over because his wife had given up.
“I guess I just need to know that he’s okay,” she went on. “Maybe reconnect with him and—”
“And what, Trish?” he countered. “You’ll come back into his life, then crush him again when you leave?”
The silence on the other end of the line was thick and filled with…regret. Brandon could feel it reaching out and gripping his throat. That’s why Trish was calling. She had regrets and guilt and needed to make sure…well, he wasn’t exactly sure what her end game was. But it was hard to erase fourteen years of her popping in and out, calling every few months as though she cared. And then disappearing for a year or two before he’d hear from her again.
“There’s no need to be unkind,” she responded in a soft voice. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, ones that I would take back if I could. But I can’t and that’s something I’ve had to live with.” She blew out a breath. “I just wanted to call and see if I could reach out one day next week and maybe you’d let me speak with him.”
He’d known that request was coming, because she always asked, hoping it would be the one time he’d actually grant her wish. But he never did, for Matt’s sake. He didn’t want his son to get sucked in by Trish’s temporary interest in his life, only to have her disappear. And then Brandon would be stuck with answering questions about why she hadn’t called in six months. And anyway, the phone calls had been nothing more than her way of absolving her own guilt.
“How do I know you’re serious this time?”
“I guess you don’t,” she admitted. “I’m just asking for a chance, Brandon. One last chance. And I know I’m a day late and a dollar short. And I’m not looking to take him away from you, or anything like that. You’re a good dad, and he’s always been lucky to have you. If you could just let me—”
“It’s not a matter of me letting you,” Brandon told her. “But whether or not Matt will even want to talk to you.”
“I understand that,” she amended. “But I have to try.”
His hand tightened on the cell phone as the clock on the wall ticked an echo in the silent room. “Let me talk to him first,” he found himself saying. “Try calling back next week.”