My heart plummets. “I know, mija. I miss your momma too.”
Scooping her up, I hug her to me and nuzzle my face against her downy-soft hair, and I realize I can’t keep falling apart. It doesn’t matter how poorly I sleep. Mel would want me to be strong for her daughter. Which means I need to put her needs first.
And definitely no more lusting for Brady. He’s a lovely man, a beautiful man, but I know I have no business with a guy like him. He’s all sharp edges and intense stares, and I’m a bookworm who prefers to stay home on a Saturday night and watch old rom-coms. How in the world would we ever be compatible? Besides, if I brought home a guy who looked like Brady, my father would probably disown me.
No, what I need to do is be a good friend to the family. That’s what I owe Mel and Cal.
You need to figure out a plan for when Brady kicks you out, you little fool, my head screams. You can’t just hang out here forever.
Ignoring that ugly voice, I vow to tell Brady the truth. I’m not looking forward to finding a place to live or getting another job, but he deserves to hear what happened that night, no matter how much it pains me to tell him.
9
Brady
I clear my throat and reposition the phone. “I love you too, Dad. Everything will be okay. All I want you to worry about is getting through surgery.”
I can’t lose you too, I think, wishing I could say it to him, to someone, and unburden myself for once.
I’ve been talking to my parents on and off all morning. I was afraid to tell them about Izzy, afraid how my dad would take the news given that he had a heart attack when he learned about my brother’s car accident. When I told him, he was relieved and choked up, but he held it together so my mom could fall apart. She was happy, of course, but emotional.
Dad says he’s not surprised she got so confused about Izzy. “Your mom went home to change yesterday and came back with her shirt inside out.” He sighs. “And then she locked the keys in her car. She’s just… overwhelmed.”
I rub the stubble on my chin. “Yeah. I get that.”
“She wishes she had been more welcoming to Melissa.”
It’s not that my parents were ever rude, but they were frustrated with Cal, and I’m sure that came across to his new wife.
“I know, Dad. I have regrets too.”
The silence on the phone makes the heavy feeling in my chest more palpable.
“Brady, you’ve grown into such a good man. Son, I’ll never be able to repay you for doing this.”
Between Cal’s car accident and my dad’s surgery, which got re-scheduled for the day after tomorrow—the morning before the funerals—he and my mom can’t stop gushing about how awesome I am.
For the record, I’m not. I’m really fucking not. Because only an asshole abandons his brother the night he’s killed.
Emotion overwhelms me.
I’m so sorry I let you down, Cal. So fucking sorry.
I clear my throat. “We’re family. You don’t have to repay me.” I get that they need to feel like they’re encouraging me or appreciating me. I’m sure this has everything to do with Cal’s death and not my virtue.
Trying to switch gears before my dad gets any heavier, I tell him that Jose has all of the properties under control. Thank God for Jose. Since I hired him last spring, he’s been one of my best workers, and now he’s a kickass manager. “We’ll be talking every day to plan out the logistics of the workload, but Dad, we have to give him a raise. I’ll pay him out of my own pocket if I have to, but we’ve doubled his workload, and he needs to be compensated. I have a little in savings—”
“Son, no. Let me cash out those IRAs and see if—”
“You’re not touching your retirement. At least not now.” I offer that concession, knowing full well I’ll never let him use that money. “I just need a little time to get things straightened out over here.”
A knock comes at the door, and I’ve never been more grateful for an interruption. “Sorry, Dad, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Thanks for the call. Love you, son.”
“Love you too, old man. Rest up.”
He chuckles, and I end the call.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Katherine says from the hallway. Now that she’s seen me half naked, she’s not as eager to come traipsing in, huh? Not sure why that bothers me. “I need a credit card.”
I slide one out of my wallet and wave her in. “Thanks so much for coordinating this.” I haven’t known her for a full twenty-four hours, but she’s been a lifesaver already.
When she leans over to grab my card, her hazel eyes meet mine for the first time since our awkward interaction this morning.
“It’s no problem.” A frown cuts across her pretty face. “But Brady”—she lowers her voice—“it’s really expensive. I tried to cut costs with flowers, which I thought I could do myself, but the two funerals are going to cost a total of… thirteen.”
“Thirteen hundred?” That’s not so bad. I’ve heard horror stories of how much funerals run.
She shakes her head and swallows. “Thirteen thousand.”