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“Bye, Mom. I’m going over to see Sean Jr. Let’s talk in a few days. Give it some time…”
Joan tugged Bree close to her chest before she could storm out of the house. Her straight golden hair was so contrasting to Bree’s dark brown curls.
Bree knew her dad’s side held the olive skin complexion and dark hair. She never knew her grandparents from either side. Her mom’s parents had died in a car accident when Caitlin hadn’t even been born yet. And her grandparents from her dad’s side had always been a mystery. She’d never met them.
Bree took a pensive step back. “Who are my grandparents? Where’s Dad?”
“Oh my God, Bree Juliana Ryan! I am not doing this with you. You go now, before Declan brings out his buddies from Austin PD to retrieve you.”
“Why can’t you talk about it?”
“Because it hurts! I promised myself to never let him get to me ever again. And talking about him brings out all those painful memories….”
“I’m sorry, Mom. But he’s my father and I want to see him.”
“What? Why? He’s a liar and a cheat. He’s going to bring nothing but trouble to your life. Please, don’t do it,” Joan pleaded with Bree with her gray eyes.
Bree sighed. “I’m leaving.”
Joan grabbed Bree’s arm. “Promise me you won’t go looking for him, Bree.”
“I can’t promise you that, Mom.”
She walked out of her mom’s house. She remembered running over this driveway to her dad when she was little. He caught her mid air and swirled her around in his arms. Bree stabbed a tear from her cheek. She reached the sidewalk and shot a glance over her shoulder at her mother’s house.
Joan wasn’t looking out of the window. Although she shouldn’t be surprised, it still hurt. Why couldn’t she be happy for her? Sure, Bree’s situation was far from ideal. But Bree had been unprepared at this wave of emotions crashing down on her. Being pregnant brought her upbringing in a whole different light.
After walking up the driveway to the Mills house, she swore to never become like her mother. Even if things didn’t work out with Dec, she would not turn into Joan. Never.
Pops opened the door to Sean Jr.’s home. “Aaah, there she is!”
Declan’s grandfather opened his burly arms and Bree gladly snuggled up to his warm chest. His enormous belly and wildly looking locks of gray hair had made her think of Santa Claus when she was little. He even laughed like him. Although Santa didn’t swear and grumble as much.
“What’s wrong, lass? My boyo’s face reminded me of thunder rollin’ over the green grass of Ireland. But he wouldn’t talk to me ‘bout it. He said it’s between ye and yer mother? What did Joan say to ye this time?”
Growing up next to the Mills family brought them close. She could always talk to Pops. If someone were a father figure to her, it would’ve been Pops.
“Stop the tears, sweet Bree. Come, let’s have it all out. We all know how ye mother can get. What’s up her arse this time?”
“Pops! Don’t talk to Bree about her mother like that,” Sean Jr. said.
Declan’s dad defended Joan five minutes after Joan slighted him about being some kind of manwhore. If he only knew. Bree blinked her tears away and sat down on the black leather sofa.
“What time is it, son?” Pops said.
“Not whiskey time yet, Dad.”
“Phsst. It’s almost four. I have me lass cryin’ against me shoulder. Me boyo is doin’ his best not to tear this place apart… Let’s have a drink.”
“Talking like a true bar owner,” Sean Jr. mumbled before he walked over to the liquor cabinet in the living room.
“It takes one to know one.”
“True,” Sean Jr. said before he pulled out the whiskey and walked over to a side table where he picked up four whiskey glasses. He walked over to the couch and placed all glasses on the table. When he brought the bottle over to the glass in front of Bree, she shot out her hand and said, “Not for me, thank you.”
“Aah, don’t be silly. I was only joking. It’s not too early for whiskey. It never is…” Sean Jr. winked. Her mother had been right when she’d said that Sean Jr. could blow some heavy smoke about just about anything. His charms never let him down before, you could tell.
“No, sorry… I….”
