Page 109 of A Really Bad Idea

“I was up early and thought I’d swing by,” he says, lifting the tray.

I open the door wider and welcome him in. He gives Dad his decaf coffee and a small bag before giving me my drink. I take a sip and am surprised my brother knows my coffee order. While Dad rummages through the bag and takes out a blueberry muffin, Brian corners me in the kitchen.

“I came to apologize.”

I nearly spit out my coffee. “For what?”

He holds his hands up in a praying position, something he does when he’s about to do something really uncomfortable. “Beth and I talked last night, and I now realize that I’ve been hard on you.”

I would make a sarcastic comment about pigs flying or ask if he only has months to live, but from the way he’s making a face like he has a sour taste in his mouth, I have a feeling this apology is difficult for him.

“You’re just saying that because I said you have the perfect life.”

“I do,” he states. “I want the same thing for you, and it’s why I’ve been so disappointed. I always thought you lived your life on a cloud with no real responsibilities. It felt as if you never cared about how your decisions impacted those around you. I’m a realist. It’s hard for me to understand someone who lives on passion.”

I let out a small laugh. “That’s crazy because Beth is the most passionate person I’ve ever met.”

“It’s why I love her. And you. You have a big heart, Meadow. You shouldn’t change who you are because of an asshole like me.”

“You’re not an asshole, Brian. You’re just … you. I like you for being you.” I put my coffee down on the counter and push my hair off my face as I think of something Brian opened my eyes to. “When we marry someone, we think it’s a singular decision when, really, they’re not just marrying us; we’re also welcoming them into an entire family. I never considered how Brock’s carelessness affected you or how my decisions with him made Mom and Dad feel. You marrying Beth is one of the greatest things to happen to me. I have a sister. You never had that with Brock, and it must have been hard for you to not only see me married to a man you shared no values with, but to also watch him hurt me the way he did. I would have married him anyway. I was blinded by romance. What I should have been was sensitive to our family. I understand how that must have been for you.”

His mouth quirks up. My acknowledgment of his feelings seems to be enough for him. “Anyway, that’s why I brought you coffee.”

I raise my paper cup in salute. His coffee and an apology are enough for me.

Dad is wiping crumbs off his face as we all head out the door. The two of them are talking about last night’s Yankees score when we get to the lobby. I’m almost at the door when Brian pulls me back. I don’t know why until I look over at a bench by the window and see Brock sitting there in cargo shorts and a T-shirt with a clean-shaven face—well, clean for Brock.

Salvatore scurries around the desk, his hat flopping on his head. “I was trying to call you, Ms. Duvane. He just arrived.”

“Thank you, Sal,” I tell Salvatore because I know he’s worried about Brock being here, especially with my father and brother in the room.

While I’m assuring him all is fine, Brian is walking up to Brock.

His fist is clenched.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Brian asks Brock, who rises from the bench with his hands open, palms out.

“I came to talk to Meadow,” Brock says.

He almost doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Brian’s fist is up in the air and flies right into Brock’s face.

“Oh shit!” I yelp, my hands flying to my mouth.

Dad is quick to grab Brian’s belt, pulling his khakis back and then grabbing his shoulder.

Salvatore runs to Brock and helps him steady himself from how he’s leaning over from the blow of Brian’s punch to his face.

Brock is a big man, so the fact that Brian got him off his toes is pretty impressive. And stupid. Brock’s face is red and flummoxed. He looks ready to charge toward Brian when I snap out of my stunned position and rush over to Brock to calm down the beast.

“Okay, just relax. You had that one coming,” I explain to Brock, who’s wiping his mouth to see if he’s bleeding.

He’s not. I mean, Brian doesn’t hit that hard.

Brian gives him a vicious pointed finger. “That’s for fucking over my baby sister.”

I give Brian a surprised yet satisfactory nod. An apology and an achievement of vengeance on my part in one morning? He can be a dick to me for the rest of the year, and I’d still be a happy little lady.

Dad ushers Brian toward the doors, but I stay back.