“And I often feel bad about myself when I’m around my mom. I wasn’t willing to take that chance. So I guess we were both coming from the same place.”
“Is she hyper-critical? Moms can be like that, even when they don’t realize they’re doing it.”
“She definitely has a way of getting in her little digs.” Brooklyn shifted in her seat and looked out the window as they crossed the bridge. “I guess I still feel like I’m proving myself to her. I’m starting to think I’ll never get there. It’s like a finish line that keeps moving. I know I need to let it go or ignore it. At my age, it seems ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous at all. My parents are gone and I still feel like I have something I have to live up to. They’re still in my head, all these years later.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s hard.” Brooklyn’s heart went out to him, especially after he’d explained that this was so much of the reason he was unsure about becoming a parent.
“It’s funny, but after we talked about it the other day, I realized that it’s better to hear my dad’s voice in my head than to ever forget what he sounded like. This is as close as I’ll be to him. Forever. I need to hold on to that.”
Brooklyn’s throat squeezed tight and her eyes watered. “That’s a really sweet way to think about it.”
He turned and flashed a soft smile at her. “I think so, too.”
A few minutes later, Alec was able to land the best parking spot of all time, only one street over from her sister’s. “We should probably hold hands,” he said as he locked up the car.
“Of course.” Brooklyn slipped her hand into his, and he responded with a reassuring squeeze.
They made the short walk in a few more minutes than it might take on any other day. There were already dozens of people out and about—couples in goofy costumes like sexy ketchup and manly mustard, teenagers in ghoulish makeup toting pillow cases for their eventual candy haul, parents parading little ones dressed as cartoon characters, and even a Corgi dressed as a bumblebee. Meanwhile, residents tended to the finer points of decorations—revving up fog machines, putting out that final fake headstone, and artfully arranging gauzy cobwebs.
Alec and Brooklyn climbed the steps to her sister’s brownstone, which was just as decked out as every other house along the street. Brooklyn marveled at the fact that Virginia had time to do all of this with two kids to care for, and her husband out of town, although she supposed that really she had simplymadetime to do it. They rang the bell and a split second later, Dallas answered the door. Dressed as Edward Scissorhands.
“Aunt Brooklyn!” he exclaimed, although it came out asAnt Bwookwyn!since he was still in that precious stage when not everything is enunciated with perfect diction.
Brooklyn crouched down and gave him a hug, squeezing him tight. Good God, she loved this child. “Your costume is amazing.” Indeed, he had the wiry black hair, white-as-a-ghost complexion, dark-ringed eyes, and of course the scissor hands, his made of plastic knives attached to gloves.
“Mommy made it.” He smiled wide, which was especially adorable since the character he was playing was so melancholy. “My other hand is in the kitchen. I couldn’t turn the doorknob with it on.”
“I want you to meet my friend, Alec.” Brooklyn straightened and watched as Alec shook hands with her nephew.
“Nice to meet you, Dallas.”
“You’re Superman,” Dallas said. Brooklyn might not have been able to figure it out, but the six-year-old was on it.
“Yes, I am.”
They stepped inside and trailed behind Dallas down the long central hall to the kitchen, where Virginia was feeding Paris, who was sitting in her carrier, dressed as a ladybug.
“Alec, hi. Come on in,” Virginia said.
Brooklyn stole this chance to love on her niece by gently squeezing her chubby thigh, tickling her chin, and making her giggle.
“It’s great to see you.” Alec kissed Virginia on the cheek.
“There’s beer and water in the fridge if you’re thirsty,” she offered.
The queen of attention-grabbing entrances, Brooklyn and Virginia’s mom popped into the room, and threw her hands into the air like an overly dramatic magician. “Finally, I get to meet Alec.”
“Happy to finally meet you, Ms. Monroe.” Alec offered his hand, but her mom held her arms wide for a hug.
“If I hadn’t seen you on TV so many times, I would’ve accused my daughter of making you up. Now I can see that you are, indeed, real.” Her mom directed a sly smile in Brooklyn’s direction. “He’s even more handsome in person. How is that possible?”
Alec blushed. Heblushed.“That’s sweet of you to say.”
“It’s a shame that this is fake.” Her mom pointed at Alec first, then Brooklyn. “You two really would make stunning babies.”
And here we go.“Mom. Please…” Brooklyn felt like an embarrassed teenager.
