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Sheridan kissed my head. “I love the smell of your shampoo.”
I smiled, thinking it was good that I was showering daily again. “It’s tea tree oil based. I get it for five dollars at the grocery store.”
Sheridan laughed. “Five dollars? I spent fifty dollars on my last bottle, and it smells awful. Please don’t ever forget it’s okay to buy cheap shampoo,” she sounded wistful.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. It’s just, I forgot. I’ve forgotten a lot of things. It’s easy to get caught up in the glitz and glamour of the Holland world. I’ve realized that I like this lifestyle more than I ever wanted to or should. I wonder if it contributed to John’s behavior.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what he did because you enjoy things like expensive shampoo. There’s nothing wrong with liking the finer things in life. You do so much good with your money and influence. If it weren’t for your family’s donations over the years, I’m not sure Children to Love would have made it. I know several charitable organizations in the area that would say the same.”
“You know, a lot of that was John,” her voice was on the verge of tears.
Ugh. It made me uncomfortable when she said things like that. I didn’t want to feel any shred of goodwill toward him. However, I also didn’t want to be callous toward Sheridan’s feelings. It was apparent how much she loved John. “Perhaps he will find it in his heart to sacrifice the ultimate gift this time—his dignity.”
She patted my leg. “Oh, honey, you know as well as I do how much these Holland men would rather do anything than sacrifice their dignity. It was a miracle we got Brock to get help. Well, I say that, but he would do anything for you. You know that, right?”
I squirmed a bit. I wanted to believe that, but my emotions were still so raw, and my heart begged for me be careful. It was almost as if it had been placed in a cocoon and was melting into a gooey mess like caterpillars did before they transformed into beautiful butterflies. Though I wasn’t sure my heart was brave enough to transform and fly again.
“I know you’ve been hurt,” Sheridan interrupted my thoughts. “I know my son hurt you,” she clarified. “You don’t know how terrible he feels about it all. Especially about the baby. He wanted to love your baby. And I think he would have,” she cried out.
I lifted my head off her shoulder and faced her. When I was honest with myself, I realized I was not only hurt that Brock had kept me at arm’s length for so many years, but I was angry at him for not loving my baby, even though I had no right to expect it. Even though he said he would at the beginning, I should have known better. It was wholly unfair of me to assume he could and would. It wasn’t his baby, after all. “Do you really think he would have loved the baby?”
She nodded and brushed some tears off her cheek. “I do. Brock has always had a tender heart, though I know he doesn’t show it as well as he should. When he was a little boy, he was always the kid who asked me what he could do to help at home. And when John was gone on business trips, Brock would offer to sleep on the floor in my room to protect me.”
I smiled. “That sounds like Brock. He spent a few nights on my dorm room floor when I was sick. He even held my hair back when I vomited in the toilet. I loved him so much. All I ever wanted was for him to love me back, to be there every night to watch over me and me to watch over him.”
She rested her hand on my cheek. “He wants that too, but I know you need proof.”
“Lots of it.”
She patted my cheek. “You deserve that, and I can’t wait for you to get it.” She leaned back against the couch; confident her son would deliver. For me, it remained to be seen. My head found itself right back on Sheridan’s shoulder while we waited for Brant’s interview to play on one of the major cable networks.
Before long, Brant and Jill appeared.
My head popped up. “Was Jill scheduled to do this interview with him?”
Sheridan rolled her eyes. “Oh, that woman. She is a piece of work. The sooner Brant can sever ties with her, the better.”
I was sorry Brant was giving up his dream, though I was relieved he would be ditching the nightmare that sat cozied up to him wearing a bright-red pantsuit like she was the daughter of Santa Claus. She looked even more ridiculous in comparison to the host, the lovely Laurie Summers, who was dressed to impress in a printed wrap dress. She reminded me of a young Diane Sawyer from 20/20—classy and fair minded. Brant and Jill were seated on a comfy taupe couch while Laurie sat on an overstuffed chair next to him. It was as if they had borrowed some random person’s living room.
