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“Right,” Sheridan snorted. “Their wedding coordinator quit because Jill’s mother is as friendly as Godzilla. She made so many demands that the venue canceled on them. Even refunded their money—they just wanted to be done with them. I heard this all from my friend Carol, who knows all the best gossip in DC.”
“Does she have any on Edward?”
“Edward is careful. I’m sure he had words with his wife about her carelessness. It’s all about image. Obviously, they have the perfect spin for it and probably paid off the venue to keep their mouths shut. But no one is invincible. If Brant says he knows something, I believe him. The question is, Will it be enough to save my son? People like Edward don’t just go away.”
I shivered despite the warmth of the house. “I know.”
We tuned back to hear Jill blathering on about a wedding that I hoped never happened. I think Laurie Summers got tired of it, too, as she abruptly switched gears and directed her next question to Brant. “Tell me, how do you respond to critics who say you are too privileged to understand the plight of the average citizen?” That was a fair question after Jill’s faux pas of speaking in such detail about their star-studded would-be wedding.
Brant nodded and leaned forward, engaging Laurie. “I understand that concern. Absolutely. The truth is, I was born to a wealthy family and was given opportunities most people don’t have access to. However, I was also born into a family that believes in helping others whenever we have the opportunity. My father taught us that we should never go to the store without opening the door for someone and giving them a smile. I know that’s a little thing, yet the little things help make up who we are. My parents also taught us about the big things. That the more we are given, the more we should be expected to give. It’s why my law firm’s caseload is ninety percent pro bono work. And each case has taught me to see the world through a different lens. Through the eyes of a single mother working four jobs to make ends meet, or a man who’s about to have his house foreclosed on because he was unjustly fired by his employer. Those are the people I promise to fight for.” His passion rang true.
I let out a heavy breath. “I hate that I’m keeping him from his calling in life.”
“Dani, you’re not. This goes beyond you and the baby. If anything, you’re helping to liberate him. Besides, Brant forgot to mention one thing that we taught him—to always do the right thing no matter the consequences.”
The question was, What were those consequences going to be?Chapter Twenty-FiveI paced the hardwood floor of my bedroom, staring at the phone, waiting for Brock to call. He had been in therapy for over two weeks now and had emailed to say he would be calling tonight. I found myself anxious to hear how he was doing. I had researched the treatment center he was in, and I liked their approach. They used several different therapies, from cognitive, behavioral, and exposure therapies to eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. They also used medications for anxiety and depression, and even sleep aids, as necessary. Though I doubted Brock was a big fan of taking any type of drug, which was silly since he was a doctor and should know better. But he thought it was great for everyone but him.
I sat on the full-size bed that had been mine since I’d moved in with Brock back at the end of August. So much had happened since then. The room, though lonely, didn’t seem like such a prison anymore. Staying in the house with Sheridan had helped it feel more like home. Probably because she had made me decorate it for fall. The woman was a master online shopper. The house was now filled with plaid blankets and throw pillows, pumpkin centerpieces, and candles galore. We were HGTV certified and ready for the Thanksgiving holiday at the end of the month.
It wasn’t only the decorating, though. Sheridan and I also took short walks on the trails near the house; at least when it wasn’t bitterly cold. It had already snowed a couple of times. During our walks, we talked about everything from her childhood and mine to silly things like my love for Frosted Mini-Wheats cereal. I would eat the little biscuits straight out of the box. We never really talked about our husbands. I believed we both did that on purpose. Sheridan knew I had to make my own decision about Brock, and I knew I couldn’t say anything to take away the obvious pain she was in being separated from the love of her life. I could often hear her at night, crying or roaming the house, even watching TV. She didn’t seem to be herself without him.
