I didn’t really look at paying Matt off as cowering. I thought it would actually be pretty great for him to know I value Brooke so highly I don’t even bat an eye at shelling out whatever it takes to make this go away.
“Besides, it’s not up to you what happens.” My mother’s back to chopping through vegetables as she tips her head in the direction of the table. “It’s up to Brooke. You can’t make this decision for her.”
I want to though. I want to take care of everything for her. I don’t want her to have to worry about anything. Not her safety. Not her peace. Not her well-being.
And sure as shit not some fucker from California who doesn’t know when to quit.
“We’ll see.”
I pick up a tray of grilled asparagus, carrying it to the table. I set it down, pausing to press a kiss to Brooke’s forehead before returning to collect more food.
My mother is lying in wait, and accosts me the second I reach her side.
“None of that, ‘we’ll see’ shit. You have to give her the opportunity to decide.” My mother’s eyes drill into me. “Understand?”
I know better than to argue with her when she gets like this, so I simply say, “Yes ma’am.”
Her eyes narrow, like she knows I’m just giving her lip service. She lets me off the hook, this time, shoving a platter of bacon-wrapped steak medallions into my hands before sending me on my way.
After helping put everything on the table, I take my spot next to Brooke, making sure she eats enough since I know her nerves are wreaking havoc on her stomach. I’m happy when she manages to get a decent amount down, and even happier when she plows through a healthy serving of the coconut cake my mother made.
Seeing Brooke get more and more comfortable being here with my family brings me no small amount of joy. We didn’t have dinners like this when Brooke knew me before—it’s a relatively new development I’m sure coincides with my mother’s plans to force us to prioritize family over work—and her family is about as opposite from mine as it gets. Sure we give each other shit, but at the end of the day, I know everyone in this room has my back. They will always be there for me. They will never use or manipulate or take advantage of me.
Just like I would never do any of those things to them.
And now they see Brooke as one of us, which means she has the full force of the Bradshaw family on her side. Matt didn’t have a clue what he was doing when he decided to take her to court.
Because he’s basically taking all of us to court.
We’re just cleaning up when Titus clears his throat in a weird way. It brings everyone’s attention to where he’s standingbehind Mariah’s chair, one hand resting on her shoulder. “I need to talk to you guys about something.”
I’m immediately concerned. As the one who had to take Mariah to the hospital after one of her fainting episodes—seeing what she’s gone through firsthand—I’ve been worried about her health. Nervous for her and the babies.
And, subsequently, for Titus.
“What’s wrong?” I look Mariah over, trying to see if I can tell what’s going on.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Titus answers immediately. “Everyone’s fine, don’t worry.” His eyes drop to Mariah. “We’ve just decided a big wedding isn’t really what we want.” He moves his focus around the room. “We’re going to have a simple ceremony at our house and we’d love for all of you to be there.”
I turn to my mother immediately, uncertain what her reaction is going to be. Not because I think she’ll be upset that Titus and Mariah are doing something different than she expected. I’m worried my mother will already be making new plans.
She shows love through effort. Our birthdays were always over the top with meticulously decorated cakes, themes that were followed down to the T, and a guest list most people would balk at.
But my mother is just standing there, looking surprisingly pleased. She presses both hands to the spot over her heart, eyes misty. “Of course we’ll all be there.” She shoots me and my brothers a quick look so we know this isn’t optional, before asking, “What can we do to help?”
I linger around the island while my mother and Mariah talk about flower arrangements and food. Both women seem happy with the plans unfolding, which is surprising. My mom can bea bit of a bulldozer, but not once have I heard her try to push her ideas or desires on my future sister-in-law.
I’m kinda proud of her.
“How much time do you think this buys me?” Tucker leans toward me, asking the question without removing his eyes from our mother. “This’ll make a baby shower, a wedding, and two grandbabies. Surely that’ll get her off our backs, right?”
My eyes fall to Brooke as Tucker tries to talk himself into believing my mother would ever forget to meddle in his life simply because she’s managed to get one of us settled.
And another one as close as she can accomplish on her own.
Brooke has seemed happy and comfortable all evening, but she suddenly looks wrong. Tense. Like the smile she’s wearing is only there because it’s frozen in place.
“You’re fucked.” I slap Tucker on the shoulder. “Count your days.”
