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It wasn’t only him she’d been hiding the truth from. As far as her parents – and nearly everybody in town – knew, the father was somebody who’d passed on by. By the time she’d discovered she was pregnant, Jamie Black was long gone. Though she’d eventually tracked him down using a private investigator, it was clear from his response that he wanted nothing to do with the child she was having. If she was really honest, she was relieved he felt that way.
It was bad enough she was single and pregnant as a teenager. Telling her parents Nick was Jamie’s son probably would have killed them. As difficult as their relationship was, she never wanted that.
“Can we see him again?” Nick asked her. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow, sweetheart. It’s a schoo
l night. But soon, okay?” She had a feeling Aiden would insist on it.
“Okay, Mom.” His voice was heavy with sleep. “Love you.” He reached his arms up and she dipped her head, kissing his cheek as he hugged her close. By the time he released her, his breathing was even, his mouth slack as sleep overtook him.
“Love you too, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Sleep tight.”
* * *
It was after eight when she heard the soft knock on her door. Brooke wrenched the door open, seeing her parents standing on the wooden deck surrounding the bungalow, both dressed in their Sunday best.
“This won’t take long, will it, darling?” her mom asked, attempting to walk past Brooke and into the living room. “We have cocktails at the Spencers’ this evening. Is Nick still up?”
Brooke blocked her way, making Lillian stop short. “He’s asleep. Let’s talk outside.”
“But I want to say good night to him. Or at least look in on him. It’s been too long since I saw him last.”
“Stay on the deck.” Brooke’s voice was so much stronger than she felt. Flicking the lock onto the latch, she carefully pulled the door behind her, hearing it softly click shut. “I don’t want him hearing this conversation.” She pointed at the wooden chairs laid out on the far corner, overlooking the lawn leading down to the cliffs. “Sit down.”
“Well there’s no need to be so rude about it,” Lilian huffed.
“Hush up,” her husband told her. Turning his head to look at Brooke, he asked her, “Now what’s all this about? Your mother’s right, we’re due at the Spencers’ in half an hour.”
“It’ll take as long as it takes.”
“I don’t like your tone.” Her father’s voice was brusque. It reminded her of those terrible days all those years ago. When he left her in no doubt she’d let him down completely.
Brooke watched in awkward silence as her parents sat down on the dark wood chairs. Her mother’s nose wrinkled up as she brushed the seat, trying to get rid of the dust settled there. In the distance, the sun was sliding down, almost past the cliffs, casting a long dark shadow on the land beyond the bungalow.
“I want to ask you about Joan,” Brooke said, pulling out a chair and settling herself on it.
“Oh, did I tell you she died?” Lilian asked, turning to her husband. “I probably forgot, you know me, I’m an airhead.”
Brooke’s stomach contracted at her mother’s dismissal of Joan’s death.
“She did?” Her father’s voice was even. “That’s a shame.” He glanced at his watch, his face impassive.
Another silence. This one felt thicker than the last. Full of recriminations Brooke had no idea how to voice.
“Was that all you wanted to talk about?” Martin asked her, raising a silver eyebrow.
“No.” Brooke shook her head. “I want to ask you why she left.”
“What do you mean? Why are you dragging all this up again? Come on, Lillian, we’ll be late.” Her father went to stand up.
Brooke put her hand on his arm. “Sit. Down.”
He looked shocked at her vehemence. “What on earth?”
“Why did she leave?” Brooke asked again, through gritted teeth.
“Brooke, your father’s right. This is silly. You know why she left. After everything that happened she wanted a new start. She knew she’d done wrong to encourage you and Aiden in your little… fling.” She wrinkled her nose again. “She got a job offer in LA and she took it.”
