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Lainey studied him, and her expression looked a lot like pity. “Why, Brody?” she asked, her voice gentle. “Why do you have such a negative opinion of an agency that does a lot of good for children?”
Brody looked away from Phoebe, shoving his hand through his hair as the memories surfaced, hitting him like a two-by-four to the head. “I was in one of their homes,” he said. “For two years, after my mother dumped me and took off. It was hell on earth. The couple running the home was only in it for the money, and they didn’t care what we did as long as the checks arrived every month. The older boys preyed on the younger ones. There were beatings. Sexual abuse, although I was spared that. Probably because I slept with a stolen kitchen knife every night, and I made sure the older guys saw it. Any belongings the younger kids had were confiscated by the older ones.”
“My God, Brody.” Lainey reached for him, but he backed up. He didn’t want to be touched, not even by Lainey, while the memories tormented him.
“How old were you?” Tears leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, and she clasped her hands together in front of her.
“I was put in that hell when I was eleven. My father found me and took me out when I was thirteen.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “No child should have to go through that.”
“No. And Phoebe certainly won’t be subjected to that.”
“Of course she won’t be. She wouldn’t be put in a group home because she has people who want to become her guardians.” She tilted her head and studied him. “Why didn’t you tell me all this when we first talked about having Phoebe here with us?”
He glanced away, staring out the window at the perfect fall day. Sun sparkled off the mountains, and a few clouds rolled over the highest peaks. Even the sight of the beautiful day couldn’t settle him down.
“I didn’t tell you because it was a painful memory. In the past. I escaped, and I turned out okay, thanks to my father. I’m not that scared kid anymore, and I don’t like thinking about that time.”
Lainey studied him without speaking. Her gaze traveled over him, as if searching for something. The downturn of her mouth told him she didn’t find it.
“I feel awful for you, Brody,” she whispered. “What a terrible experience. I don’t blame you for being angry about it. Now I understand why you were so adamant about not going to DCFS right away. Why you wouldn’t even consider it.”
She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. Took three steps backward. Away from him. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me about this earlier.” Her voice was a whisper in the silent office. “Why you didn’t say anything when we first had Phoebe and were discussing our options.”
She stared down at her feet, her fingers clutching her shoulders, as if she were trying to hold herself together. “I exposed all the ugliness in my life to you,” she whispered. “I told you things about my marriage I’d never discussed with anyone before. I talked about all my failures. Shared it freely with you, because I trusted you. Cared about you. And now I find out you hid yourself from me in all but the most superficial ways.”
“I was ashamed of that part of my life,” he told her. “Ashamed that my mother abandoned me. The little kid inside me still feels as if I’m unlovable. Damaged goods. The man I am was afraid you wouldn’t be interested in me if I shared my past. I had too much rejection as a kid to open myself to it again.”
“Brody, what happened to you when you were a child was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. I don’t know anything about your mother, except she was a rotten one. What kind of mother abandons her child into that kind of hell?”
She stopped to take a breath, and Brody swallowed. Tried to explain. But there really wasn’t an explanation.
Before he could come up with one, Lainey said, “If you hadn’t been shocked and angry that I talked to my friend who works for DCFS, how long would it have been until you told me these things about you? About your past, and your mother?”
Her gaze wasn’t accusing. It was full of regret. Sorrow. As if something Lainey had wanted desperately had just been taken away from her. “And did you really think I’m so shallow that I’d walk away from you because of what happened when you were a child?”
Brody closed his eyes. Opened them to stare at his boots. Is that really what he’d thought? Or was it just an excuse? There were no answers in the scuffed brown leather.
Finally he looked up at her. “If it makes a difference, I intended to tell you. I knew I had to, after I talked to Rose last weekend when we were in Bozeman.”
Lainey tilted her head. “Who’s Rose?”
“The woman who became my caseworker after I’d been in that home for about a year and a half. She came to check up on me. Must have seen something in my expression, because she took me out to McDonald’s. Bought me a Big Mac and fries and asked me how things were going at the house.”
He looked away from Lainey. “I was out of the house, at least for an hour or two. I was eating without having to protect my food.” He bowed his head, remembering how free he’d felt. How he’d dreaded going back to that house after tasting an hour or two of freedom. “When I started to cry, which horrified me, Rose got me back in her car. Asked questions until I told her everything.” He swallowed. “She took me back there and got all my belongings. Took me to her house for the night, and the next day found a different group home that was nothing like the first one. But I was never able to relax, even in that welcoming home. I was always afraid the other shoe was going to drop.”
“How did you connect with your father?” Lainey asked.
“That was all Rose. I didn’t realize it until last weekend. She tracked down my mother and made her give up my father’s name. Then she went to Glenn and told him the story. Glenn was skeptical. My mother had stolen money from him, and he wasn’t inclined to believe her. But Rose got him to take a DNA test. When it proved I was his son, he took me in immediately. It took a while, but we bonded completely. I was devastated when he died.”
“I’m so sorry all that happened to you, Brody. I hate your mother for abandoning you, and I love Rose for saving you. I can understand how those experiences would scar you. Make it difficult to open up.”
She slumped against the wall, as if the effort to hold herself upright had exhausted her. “But… but we’ve made love. Talked about everything that went on in my marriage. And you held back everything about your past. Everything that made you who you are today.” She bit her lip and stared at her shoes. Finally lifted tear-drenched eyes up to meet his gaze. “I feel like a fool for thinking we had something real. Something that would last. That you were someone I could count on, just like I wanted to be someone you could count on.”
“That’s all true, Lainey,” he said, desperate to make her see the truth. “We do have something real. Something lasting. You can count on me.”
She held his gaze as she said, “We don’t, Brody.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if she couldn’t bear to say the words. “How could I lean on you if I don’t know you’re telling me everything? How could we build a relationship if I’m always wondering what you haven’t told me?”
