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“This was the most ridiculous and childish response I’ve ever encountered from a woman,” Mark answered. “Her fear of being embarrassed, her disdain for me for daring even to request it—Jesus, it was like watching a spoiled little girl throw a tantrum for not getting a pony on her birthday.”
“Well,” I smirked and stared at him with sympathy, “you know how all those socialites were raised. At least she’s beautiful.”
“I’m done with her,” he said, and now I knew we were getting to the meat of his issues.
Mark was cracking under the pressure of our parents and their social circle, and he had no idea how to handle it.
“When do you go back?” I asked, knowing I wouldn’t be able to help him overnight.
“I’ve arranged for the pilot to have the jet in the air by six tomorrow morning.”
“Well, cancel that. Maybe you and I can?—”
“I just came here to prepare you,” Mark said, dismissing my effort to save him from imploding under the pressure he was feeling. He rose, ignoring the food placed before him moments ago, “Things are buckling down at home, and I have a feeling that life as you know it is about to change.”
“It already has,” I said, feeling anger radiate throughout my body. “I’ve met someone extraordinary, and whether our family approves or not, I’m not moving to New York or France to do anything.”
Mark smiled grimly. “You say that now, but I don’t think you understand what is in motion. Once I’m married, all eyes will be on you as the family’s next target. The pressure is thick, and I have no idea exactly why.”
“I honestly couldn’t give two fucks,” I said, feeling my stomach churning in anger and a bit of fear. This was the most bizarre encounter I’d ever had with my brother. It was almost like the plot twist of my life, turning into some kind of horror story. “I’m not obliging their demands. I never have, and I never will.”
“I’ll see you in January, brother,” he said. Then Mark took his mental breakdown and walked purposefully out of the dining area, abandoning his food and any further explanation of how he expected my parents would set their sights on me after they sealed the deal of fucking over Mark.
I pulled my napkin from my lap and picked up my cell, dialing out.
“Hey, John,” Mick answered with a small laugh.
It was so good to hear her voice.
“I need to see you,” I said. “Are you busy?”
“I’m at work,” she said. “On-call, what do you think?”
“I think I need to see you,” I said with more urgency in my voice.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I answered.
“Well, come stop by and see me at work and tell me all about it,” she said.
I stood from the table and nodded toward the waiter for the check my brother left me to pay.
I didn’t know my parents’ expectations of me, but it didn’t sound good. Something told me there was a possibility that I could lose Mickie, my happiness, and my life…and it was my brother’s grim warning. I saw the fear and depression in his eyes, and I knew he wasn’t being dramatic. My parents had turned the pressure on, and for the first time since I left home, I felt the fear of them trying to control me and my life.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t let that happen.
Chapter Thirty
Mickie
“There you are, you stubborn, beautiful baby girl,” I said after Mrs. Jackson collapsed back onto the birthing bed, her labor long and tiresome after thirteen hours of waiting for this sweet baby to come into the world.
I quickly suctioned all fluids from the baby and turned to a thrilled dad, waiting to cut their daughter’s umbilical cord.
“She’s so beautiful,” Mrs. Jackson said, sitting up to watch the treasured event that was taking place for their fourth child.
“She was worth all the work,” I smiled, carefully turning to the RN waiting to retrieve the baby and prepare her for mommy to hold her for the first time. “All right,” I said, massaging her belly to keep the contractions going and ease out the placenta. “A couple more easy pushes, and I’ll have you ready to go. You’ll be off to recovery shortly after.”
