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33
Elizabeth
“So, are you a chocolate or vanilla guy?” I ask Brenden as we walk into the small ice cream shop. This is one of my favorite places to come, especially on particularly hard days. I thought Brenden might benefit from it today.
Truth be told, I’m still trying to process the knowledge that it was his own father who put those scars on his chest. My parents have always been so good to me. They have never, and would never, do anything to hurt me or my sister.
My stomach knots at the thought of Brenden as a little boy, afraid and alone. He didn’t have anyone to love or care for him the way they should, and it breaks my heart. It wasn’t easy to hold back my tears as he addressed the court, but I knew he needed me to be strong. He hadn’t only brought me with him today to share his story, he needed my support to get through it.
“Guess.” He smirks, his eyes wandering around the small building.
It’s set up like an old 1950’s ice cream parlor. Black and white checkered flooring, bar stools at the counter, and even decade appropriate music.
“All right, fine,” I huff. “I say you like a combination of both. The vanilla for your light side and chocolate for your dark.”
He turns his attention to me, his mouth curling into a smile that makes my stomach flip, but he doesn’t tell me if I’ve guessed correctly.
When we get to the counter, I order two scoops of vanilla with chocolate syrup and sprinkles, and Brenden orders a root beer float, insisting I let him pay for both.
“You do realize you order ice cream like a six-year-old?” he teases as we take a seat in a booth.
“Shut up. I do not. Like I care what some weirdo who puts soda over their ice cream thinks of my choices anyway.” I stick my tongue out at him before scooping up a big bite and shoving it in my mouth.
He shakes his head, chuckling as his eyes fall to his float. “This is perfect, thank you.”
My heart clenches at the vulnerability in his tone. I’m not used to seeing this side of Brenden. He generally walks around with a confident, carefree air about him. I admire the trait even more now, knowing what he’s been through in life. It takes a strong person to pick themselves up after something so horrible, and Brenden’s done more than that. He welcomed life with open arms.
Brenden becomes uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes vacant as they focus on the distance outside the window. My chest aches as I watch his jaw tic, as if his mind is drifting to ugly places.
“I picked him up from the bar hundreds of times before that night,” he begins, his eyes down now as he fidgets with his straw.
My breath catches on the lump in my throat. I want him to feel like he can open up about this with me, but I’m terrified hearing the details will test my strength.
“He’s always been a drunk. It was nothing for him to say or do hurtful things to me, but I stopped fearing him long ago. I never dreamed he’d…”
He closes his eyes as his words trail off, shaking his head like he’s trying to rid himself of the memory.
“Your mother?” I ask, thinking of the woman sitting behind his father and the way she cut her eyes at Brenden as he made his way up to speak.
“She never hit me, but her words were more hurtful than any strike from my father. I was often called a burden, constantly hearing how I was the worst thing to ever happen to her. When my father would beat me, she’d tell me I should try harder to keep him happy.” He chuckles, scratching at the hair on his jaw, but I can see the hurt behind his eyes. “She stopped talking to me altogether after my father was put away, like that was actually some type of punishment for me. It didn’t matter that he’d nearly taken my life. I was the asshole for sending him to prison.”
“Is this why you decided to work with kids?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t notice the sorrow in my tone.
“Yeah.” He finally meets my eyes again, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “I believe good things can come out of the bad in life. I really love what I do. Those kids help me as much as I help them.”
My heart swells, and an overwhelming need to wrap my arms around him washes over me. I’ve gotten to see Brenden in a whole new light today, and it’s made my feelings for him even stronger.
Brenden
Lizzy worries her lip, looking out the window of the ice cream parlor. “Maybe we should wait until the rain stops.”
“What fun would that be?” I tease.
I’ve had a stupid grin on my face for the past thirty minutes. It feels good. Today could’ve been a shitty one for me, but she’s managed to turn it into something great.
She turns to give me a withering glare, dropping the façade as I wink at her. “You can’t be serious. We’ll freeze.”
“This coming from the woman who wanted to go out for ice cream in the middle of winter?”
She narrows her eyes, pressing her lips together to fight off a smile. “That’s different. It’s warm in here.”
I love this back and forth with her; I love how natural it feels. We’re so good together.
I just hope she sees it too.
“Come on, don’t you want to dance in the rain with me?” I ask her. “We can soak it up as if it were the sun, turning an ugly day into a beautiful one.”
My heart skips as her lips curve into a soft smile, her loving stare making me warm.
“All right,” she relents. “Let’s go soak up the rain together.”
