My mother stares at her in complete disbelief. “Of course you’re invited. I told you when we were having it.”
Brooke is still visibly confused. “I thought you were just making conversation.”
My mother’s mouth hangs open as the two women sit looking at each other in silence. Neither one can honestly believe what the other one considered easy truth.
Finally, my mother manages to spit out her own perspective. “But you’re part of the family. Why wouldn’t you be invited?”
Brooke’s head tips back like my mother’s words carry an actual force. “I…” Her eyes dart to where I stand, desperate for someone to save her from a situation she’s not sure how to navigate.
And I will always save Brooke.
Stepping into the mix, I stop right behind her seat, meeting my mother’s still perplexed eyes. “Brooke has had a lot going on with work and the move. I doubt she really had time to put too much thought into the logistics and reasons behind every word you’ve said.”
My mother’s eyes barely narrow on me, but soften when they drop to Brooke. “I am so sorry, honey. I didn’t even think of that.” She reaches out, resting one hand on top of Brooke’s. “For future reference, you are always assumed to be a part of anything this family does.” She gives her a smile. “Because you are in the unfortunate position of becoming one of ours.”
A little of Brooke’s discomfort at the conversation eases away and she manages a small laugh. “I’m not sure I would call being a part of your family unfortunate.” Her smile slips. “I’m quite well-versed on what being part of an unfortunate family is actually like.”
My mother’s mouth flattens into a hard line. “I am aware of your unfortunate family.” She takes a deep breath, blowing it back out like she needs a second to regain control. “Have you heard from your parents recently?” There’s an edge to her words, and it really makes me hope Brooke’s parents haven’t tried to get in touch with her.
For their sake. I honestly don’t know what my mother is capable of, but I’m pretty confident she could ruin lives. And I think she might do it with a smile on her face. Especially in this circumstance.
Brooke shakes her head. “They don’t have any way to get a hold of me.” Her lips twist wryly. “Unless they want to come here again.”
My mother’s chin lifts and she stands from her chair, giving Brooke a pat on the shoulder. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
I lean to where Titus is standing next to me, watching the whole interaction with interest. Lowering my voice, I ask, “Mom didn’t kill Brooke’s parents, did she?”
Titus shrugs, his voice as quiet as mine when he replies, “You should probably ask Tucker. He has the equipment she’d need to dig a hole of that size.”
That sounds like a great plan, except my baby brother would never say a word to anybody about it. Not even me. So asking him is pointless. Tucker might be a fuck boy. He might be a leg hound. He might even commit crimes against grammar on a daily basis. But that man will take a secret to his grave.
Even if the secret is making him dig one.
My mother starts putting out food, enlisting me and my brothers to help. I’m stuck carrying in the last dish, so I’m also the last one to sit down. And it just so happens, the only available chair is right next to Brooke.
Taking my spot—and it is my spot—I give her a smile,looking over her face to gauge how she’s handling this night. Family dinners are a lot, even for me. And I haven’t missed a single one. I can only imagine what this is like for Brooke. Someone who came from a completely different sort of upbringing. Someone who’s not accustomed to the kind of unconditional love I used to take for granted.
It’s the reason Brooke thought I would move to California with her. I’ve always loved my family, but there were times when I was younger that I found them stifling. Smothering. The expectation that I would go to work with my brothers made my world feel small before I even stepped into it.
I still always knew Iwouldstep into it, part of me just rebelled at the assumption. I liked to bitch and complain about all of it, and it made Brooke think something that wasn’t the case.
One more regret I carry. Especially now that I’ve seen how genuinely awful her parents can be.
When she starts to look a little overwhelmed, I lean close, lips barely moving against her ear as I ask, “You hanging in there?”
She offers me a barely perceptible nod before tucking her chin and quietly asking, “You do this every week when your mother’s in town?”
“Only if I don’t want to deal with her wrath.” I can feel Brooke’s leg bouncing next to mine, so I reach under the table, giving her knee a squeeze. “But I’m pretty sure if anyone can skip unscathed, it’s you.”
I refuse to pressure Brooke into something she’s not ready for, and I won’t let my family do it either. I know my mother has the best intentions. She wants Brooke to know she’s not alone. That she’s supported. That she’s loved. That there’s a family behind her even if it’s not the one she was born into.
But for someone whose parents are manipulative, using, assholes, who only want her when there’s something she can give or do for them, this could cause an automatic response the same way loud noises, sharp tones, and sudden movements do.
Brooke peeks my way, smile small, but grateful. “Are you saying she’s going to assume I’ll come every week now?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I give her knee another squeeze. “And for future reference, if my mother mentions a time and date to you, it’s because she wants you there.” I wait until Brooke looks my way again, making sure she hears the next part. “But you’re allowed to say no to anything you don’t want to do.”
I hope Brooke understands that’s a blanket statement. That no one in this room will ever push her into something she doesn’t want to do. Not me. Not my family.
