Until Forever, page 18
Gigi blinked. Slowly.
Maybe it would have been best if Juliette had told her mother about the plans for the beach house sooner. Well, better late than never.
“Brock, Anders, and I have started renovating the old Gallagher beach house.” She tucked a loose wisp of hair behind one ear and distracted herself from her mother’s pointed stare. “We plan to turn it into an exclusive boutique wedding venue.”
“Oh.” Gigi twirled the peony stem between her fingers. “Is that so?”
“Yes. Aidan, Brock’s dad, was trying to have the property bought out so he could build a strand of hotels and condominiums along the peninsula.”
Gigi gasped. It may have been slightly extra and dramatic, but it worked for their mother. She clamped one hand over her heart and whispered something in French. “Mais non. That will not do. We do not want Mystic Cove to become an extension of Virginia Beach.” Her nose wrinkled. “All those tourists.”
“Exactly.” At least Mama was on her side for this much of the story. “We had to think of a way to quickly save the beach house from demolition, while proving it can still be worthwhile and bring in money, yet preserve the beach at the same time. So, I came up with the idea of a wedding venue.”
“You did?”
“It’s a great idea too,” Vivianne added. “Adrienne is going to be the onsite photographer. I’ll head up the social media and marketing, and Sophie…well, she hasn’t agreed yet, but we’re hoping she’ll book the weddings.”
Anne-Sophie smiled but rolled her eyes to the ceiling. There was no doubt wedding planning wasn’t nearly as lucrative as whatever job she was working now.
Gigi added the peony to the sympathy arrangement then fisted her hands on her hips. Her large jeweled rings caught the light and sparkled like rainbows across her knuckles. “You have it all planned out then?”
“Well, not all of it,” Adrienne admitted and sent a knowing look to Juliette.
Right.
Now or never.
Juliette scraped her teeth along her bottom lip and met her mother’s cool gaze. “I was hoping you’d want to be the florist?”
Silence descended upon the back of the shop. Gigi pursed her bright red lips. “I’ll consider it.”
The energy between the sisters bubbled to the point of bursting. Whenever Mama considered something, it was almost always a yes. Juliette tried not to smile too wide.
“This idea of yours, this wedding venue…it seems to be rather long term, no?”
Juliette knew what Mama was asking. It was the same thing they all asked her. Even Brock. “For the time being.”
It was the best answer she could give them.
“Hm.” Gigi nodded once then walked away.
The sisters let out a collective breath.
Anne-Sophie shoved her hair back from her face and grinned. “I can’t tell if she was excited or angry.”
“Probably a little of both,” Adrienne put in.
“At least it’s one more thing checked off the project list. I’ll have to remember to tell Brock she agreed. But now with Yaya…” Juliette ran the tips of her fingers over the soft petals of a dahlia. “I’ll just have to wait a few days.”
After a beat, she glanced up to realize all three of them were staring at her. “What?”
Adrienne leaned forward. “Are we going to talk about the fact that Rod will be here in a week? I want to make sure you’re truly okay with him coming to Mystic Cove. After all, it’ll probably be you who showcases the beach house, not Brock and Anders.”
“Oh, I—”
“Hold up.” Vivianne’s hand shot into the air. “I think we need to discuss the fact that Juliette didn’t sleep in her own bed last night.”
Anne-Sophie gasped.
“Tell us!” Adrienne pleaded.
“You owe us that much, Jules.” Vivianne pointed at her with a stem of eucalyptus. “Especially since none of us are getting laid at the moment.”
Juliette laughed. “Okay, okay. One thing at a time. I’ll admit, the whole Rod marrying Charity thing caught me off-guard. But…”
She hesitated.
“But I kind of expected it. Or at least, I knew he had plans to marry someone.” Just not her.
“You what?” The twins gaped at her.
Juliette relayed to her sisters the story of how she found the ring and how she showed it to a friend on New Year’s Eve, and how her life tumbled out of control from there. She skipped over the imagery of Rod banging some woman on their bathroom sink and spared them the details of her slowly breaking heart.
“That jerk.” Adrienne’s eyes were blazing.
“I’m going to kill him.” Anne-Sophie’s fists coiled at her side. “As soon as he gets here, I’m going to kill him.”
Vivianne clutched her baby sister’s arm. “Easy there, tiger.”
“Don’t kill him yet. We need him alive so we can keep our first wedding on the books.” Juliette grinned, but gradually the laughter faded away. “I really thought he was going to propose to me, but there were so many signs. And I was too busy ignoring them.”
Vivianne leaned over the worktable and propped her chin on her fist. “Would you have said yes?”
“I…” Of course, right? Marrying Rodrigo was the one thing she’d always wanted. “I thought so. For years I dreamt of saying yes. I knew what colors I wanted for our wedding. I knew where the reception would be held. I had this vision of my gorgeous dress with satin and beaded rhinestones. My future wedding was going to be perfect, but the groom was always a blur. Now, I’m not sure.”
Adrienne linked their arms together. “We’ll be here for you. Every step of the way.”
“That’s right.” Anne-Sophie slung one arm around Vivianne. “We’ll help you get through him being here, and we’ll do it together.”
“All of this powerful sisterhood stuff sounds really fabulous.” Vivianne feigned yawning. “But I want to hear about your night with Brockton Gallagher.”
“Yes!”
“Me too!”
“Is it serious?” Vivianne asked.
“I don’t know.” Juliette had tried not to think about Brock for this exact reason. The spark burned so brightly between them, but she wasn’t sure if she was willing to risk her heart with him again. “I’m not sure it can be serious with us.”
Adrienne patted her hand, nurturing as always. “Why not?”
“Because he left me once before.”
“The boot camp thing?” Vivianne asked, and Juliette nodded. “You need to ask him about why he left. It’s high time he fesses up. I remember how crushed you were when he wouldn’t return your letters and then wouldn’t answer your calls. If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”
“Viv’s right,” Adrienne put in. “We’ve seen the two of you together. You’re perfect for each other. You were perfect for each other then too. There has a be a reason for him to act the way he did.”
“You’re right. As usual.” Juliette realized confronting Brock about their past was the very last thing she wanted to do, but if she ever wanted to move on, with or without him, they would need to have a conversation eventually.
Brock had once promised her until forever. Then he left and never came back. By the time he came home to Mystic Cove, she was gone.
But now they were here, back together, and all those old feelings of endless possibilities and wishes upon stars were filling her heart again. If she stayed, she would have to face her mother at some point, and even though she was finally designing again, her mother wouldn’t make her life easy. Those little comments wouldn’t go away, the constant nudges or insignificant slights—those would be things she faced daily. But if she left, her sisters would be devastated. And Brock, well, she’d lose him forever.
Something inside her gut twisted.
A knowing.
An understanding.
Juliette realized with sudden clarity that she wanted to stay in Mystic Cove. Not only for her sisters, whom she adored, but also for Brock.
For the man she still loved.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brock sat across from his father at Latte & Bean.
Nothing was helping to erase the vision of Yaya from his mind. Regret filled him in a million different ways. He shouldn’t have argued with his father in front of her. He wished he’d spent more time with her, wished he’d taken up the beach house years ago instead of letting it waste away. But more than anything, remorse for never getting the chance to say goodbye was a weight he would bear for a long time to come. He’d stood there, in her house, just the other day, but he hadn’t said a word.
In an effort to keep the peace, Aidan suggested they grab some coffee and maybe just talk. Surprisingly enough, Brock agreed.
Miss Bobbie hugged them both as soon as they walked through the door. With her eyes reddened by unshed tears, she offered them her sweetest of smiles, as well as free coffee and dessert for as long as they wanted to stay. He was grateful for Miss Bobbie’s hospitality.
She stood at the coffee bar in her bright yellow sweater with a bejeweled bumblebee clip pinned into her white hair and pretended not to listen to their conversation. Every so often he’d catch her lifting her purple glasses and wiping at her eyes.
“How’s your apple crisp muffin?” Aidan asked.
“Fine.” Brock hadn’t even tried it yet. He wasn’t exactly hungry. Instead, he crumpled his napkin.
“Your mother…” Aidan spoke suddenly, and Brock’s head snapped up. His father shifted in his seat. Uncomfortable.
Good.
“She’s made some mistakes.”
“Yeah.” Like abandoning him when he was just a child. “Plenty of them.”
Aidan’s brow furrowed, but then he blinked the strange look away. “I should probably start at the beginning. I met your mother at a gala in Washington D.C., but we weren’t dating or anything.”
Brock shoved one hand through his hair. “Are you telling me my mom was just a one-night stand?”
“Yeah.” Aidan lips pressed into a thin line, and he gave a small nod. “But in my defense, I didn’t know your mother was pregnant with you until after you were born.”
It was like a bomb went off inside Brock’s head. There was noise and chaos, and nothing made sense. Then sudden quiet.
“What?” he croaked.
“I found out about you when you were about three months old.” Aidan’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “She needed money.”
This story just kept getting better and better.
“There was no denying you were mine.” Aidan mimed a circle around his face and the half-smile that was there faded a bit. “I paid her child support pretty regularly, off the record. She let me see you on weekends but never at her place. She always brought you to me. That probably should’ve been my first warning sign. It was a couple months before your first birthday, and I wanted to surprise her with a new swing I bought for you.”
Aidan’s expression shifted. There was pain behind his eyes. Pain and anger and fear.
“And?” Brock urged, caught between curiosity and apprehension.
“And so I showed up to her apartment unannounced. You were screaming your head off. You were alone in one of those pack-and-play things. Your diaper was soiled. Your bottle was empty. And you were so cold.”
Uncertainty clamored through him. He’d never heard this story before. He wasn’t even sure how he’d ended up being raised by his grandparents, but then again, he’d never thought to ask. He’d always just assumed his dad had taken over custody because his mother couldn’t support him, which no longer seemed to be the case.
“Where was my mom?”
“Passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of vodka on the floor beside her.”
Aidan continued, his gaze locked on the cold cup of coffee in front of him, “She didn’t fight me on custody. Hardly matters though, because I knew there was no way I’d let her have you after that. I couldn’t trust her to protect you and keep you safe. I was able to pay her off with ten grand.”
Ten grand.
Ten thousand dollars.
That was much he was worth to his mother.
It wasn’t that his father had taken him from her, or that she’d needed help raising him. She simply hadn’t wanted him.
“I didn’t know how to be a father.” Aidan smoothed back the thickly gelled pieces of his hair. “But I knew I had to save you, so I did the only thing I could think of. I brought you here.”
“Not knowing how to be a father isn’t a good excuse for never being around,” Brock countered, not willing to let him slide out from being a deadbeat dad too quickly.
“I know.” Aidan squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, they were filled with regret. “At least, I know that now. I was trying to build my empire, trying to build a life for you. But I didn’t know how—”
“Didn’t know how a kid fit into the equation?” Brock interrupted, his resentment growing.
“No! I didn’t know how to find the balance. But I was there, Brockton.”
“You were never there.” Brock slammed his fist down on the table, and nearby customers glanced over. Even Miss Bobbie sent him a warning look. He dropped his voice. “Never when I needed you, never when it mattered.”
“I was always there when it mattered, you just didn’t want to see me.” Aidan stared at him, his gaze unwavering. “When you hit a home run at your Little League championship game, you ran around the bases and pumped your fist just like Kirk Gibson did in the World Series.”
“How did you—”
“When you took Juliette to senior prom, you bought her a corsage from a flower shop in Virginia Beach so she would be surprised. At your high school graduation, you walked across the stage with honors, even though you swore you hated studying, and decorated your cap with camouflage. At your boot camp graduation…”
Aidan’s voice wavered as tears sprang to his eyes. “At your boot camp graduation, I’d never been prouder of you in my entire life.”
A kind of numbness stole over Brock, his throat closing. “How?”
Aidan ducked his head, and he poked at his chocolate donut. “My parents knew how to give you a real life. One filled with love. The kind of life you deserved. You looked so much happier without me. I didn’t think you wanted me there. But it never stopped me from showing up.”
Brock swallowed, but the knot in throat didn’t go away. He grabbed Aidan’s hand. “I always wanted you there, Dad.”
When his father looked up, the tears were no longer hidden. They slid down his cheek, past the faint wrinkles, past the laugh lines of all the years he never saw. “Can you forgive me? Your mother may not have wanted you, but I always did.”
Forgiveness was hard. It required a lot of a person. It required a lot from the heart. But his father was the only family he had left, and if there was any hope, any chance of them rebuilding a relationship, it was now.
“Yeah, Dad.” He squeezed his father’s hand. “I can forgive you.”
They stood up from the small table, and for the first time in years, Brock hugged his father. He locked eyes with Miss Bobbie behind the counter, watching her pull a tissue from her pocket and blow her nose.
He smiled.
After another round of hot coffee and donuts on the house, Brock and his father spent the rest of the time catching up on missed years.
“It looks like you and Juliette have made up,” his father ventured, eyeing him carefully over the rim of his coffee mug.
“For now,” Brock agreed. Her words, he reminded himself.
“Why’d the two of you break up anyway?”
Brock finally broke off a piece of his apple crisp donut. “She told me I wouldn’t ever be good enough for her daughter. She told me when I went to boot camp, to cut off all ties with Juliette. To sever the relationship completely. So I did.”
Aidan reared back. “Why? Why would she think you’re not good enough?”
“Who knows.” Brock didn’t like to think about how easily she’d convinced him. “I was young and stupid. It was a mistake.”
All those years, he’d stayed away on purpose, because he thought he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t even count the number of times Juliette had occupied his thoughts, and he’d forced her from his mind, reminded himself, convinced himself he’d made the right decision. He’d blocked her from his memory. He erased her from his life, because the last thing he wanted to do was imagine her after he left.
Not that he intended to inflate his ego, but he knew what they had together. He knew how much it hurt him, he could only imagine she’d been crushed and left to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.
“Well.” Aidan took a drink of coffee, and eyed Brock from over the rim. “Now’s the time to fix it.”
Brock and his father went over the more difficult details of Yaya’s passing. She didn’t want anything fancy and refused to have a big fuss made over her. She’d been very clear on that much for years. In fact, the one thing Brock could recall without even looking at the will, was that she wanted a simple graveside service and then a celebration of life with a bonfire on the beach. Both of which could be easily arranged. It was just…he didn’t want to do it. At least, he didn’t want to do all of it on his own.
“Hey—” Brock hesitated on how to address his father. Calling him Aidan seemed too formal. “Would you want to help me plan things? For Yaya?”
A shadow of his father’s former winning smile emerged. “I would. That would be great, actually. Does she still want that crazy bonfire beach party?”
Brock grinned. “Yeah, she does. We’ll have to make it a big one, though, given the current temperature outside.”
“All the more reason for her to love it,” Aidan murmured.
“Okay. I’ll make some calls. Maybe set up a small viewing and then the graveside service.”
“That’s a good idea.” His father sat back and broke a muffin in half. “I’ll drive over and get the permit for the bonfire from the sheriff’s office. Heck, maybe we should just invite the whole town.”
“To the bonfire?” Brock asked, bewildered.
