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Authors: K. S. Thomas

I Call Him Brady (9 page)

BOOK: I Call Him Brady
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F
or days, anytime I was downstairs alone, I moved around the apartment like a manic person, muttering to myself and shouting out at random. This was no game. I could not fuck this up. Embers needed me to stand up to the plate, to re-set the bar from where the douchebags of her past had dropped it, and preferably set it so fucking high, no other guy would ever be able to reach it.

             
Problem was, I was just like those douchebags. I didn’t know the first thing about putting another person’s needs above my own. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I was great at being selfless with strangers. But when it came to relationships and women, I was as selfish a prick as they came. Not that any of them ever complained. At the end of the day, everyone either got what they needed from the arrangement or they simply moved on. No harm done.

             
Only Embers was already harmed. And I would destroy us both if I harmed her more.

 

 

            
 
The days that followed, while simplistic in nature, were utter perfection. So much so, I was starting to actually appreciate that Austin had high jacked my truck and granted me a mandatory vaca. Of course, the only downside was that we would have no choice but to actually cash the check Brady had given us for renting the apartment. Something I had originally not intended to do, but now with the lack of income there really was no alternative.

             
Most of our time was spent at the beach where Jessa finally got her wish and started learning to surf thanks to Brady, who was a far more patient teacher than I’d ever be. I sat in the sand and watched as her balancing skills became stronger and stronger until finally, she managed to ride an entire wave in without Brady holding on to her.

             
Not that we had major surf alongside our particular stretch of sand, but that suited me just fine. Better actually.

             
The afternoons and evenings consisted mostly of cooking out and later playing board games, which Margo usually joined us for. By the time, Jessa went to bed, May, Brady and I would settle onto the couch and search the cable box for movies to watch. On two separate occasions, certain films caused me to call out in excitement, “Hey that’s the new Jack Cole movie.”

The first time he thought I was making a joke. The second, he just shook his head in disappointment while May and I succumbed to our usual ‘hyena’ laughing fits.

              The next day while he and I were making a food run to the local seafood store for the night’s barbeque he was eerily quiet and I could tell something was on his mind. After parking the car and taking the key from the ignition, I leaned into the seat, bracing myself for whatever was about to come.

             
“Spill it. Whatever it is, I can take it. And honestly, I’d rather you just tell me now.”

             
His brow furrowed and I could see his jaw moving back and forth the way it did when he was still formulating his words.

             
“For starters, stop with the impending doom routine. I’m not a ticking time bomb.”

             
Now it was my turn to frown. “Well, then what is it? And don’t say nothing, because it’s obviously something.”

             
“It
is
nothing.  I’ve just been wondering why you don’t call me Jack.”

             
I shrugged. “Because I call you Brady.”

             
“Yeah, but why? My name is Jack.”

             
“Your name is Jack, but you’re not. Jack Cole is nothing but this persona created by the media long before you ever got to decide who you wanted to be. I don’t call you Jack because he’s not real. That’s not who you are to me anymore.”

             
When he didn’t say anything, I added, “If it bothers you I’ll obviously start calling you Jack.”

             
He quickly shook his head. “No, don’t. That was a good answer.” He broke into a smirk. “Now you better call me Brady forever.”

             
I opened my car door and jumped out. “I was planning to.”

             
Brady followed suit and met me at the hood of the car to take my hand. “You just offered to call me Jack.”

             
“That was really more of a courtesy offer. Like when I ask Jessa if she wants to take a bath. Her answer really plays no role in the outcome.”

             
I felt a light jerk as Brady spun me back toward him. I looked up at him, cocky satisfaction all over my face. He leaned down into me until our noses nearly touched. “You know, you’re not always going to get your way around here.”

             
As he came all the way in to kiss me, I mumbled, “We’ll see.”

 

              The following morning Brady got a mysterious phone call in the middle of breakfast. He was out on the balcony for nearly fifteen minutes before he came in and announced that he had to leave.

             
“That was my agent. There’s this project I’ve wanted in on since they first announced it a year ago. Now they’re finally ready to talk casting and they want to have a sit down with me. I hate to just up and leave like this, but I don’t want to miss this opportunity.” He looked torn as he explained it, but even I could see the undeniable excitement growing in his eyes.

             
“Of course you should go!” I blurted. I knew there’d be an onslaught of thoughts to follow, all of which would have suggested the exact opposite, but there was no way I was going to be
that
girl. It didn’t matter how much I wanted Brady here with me, the rest of the world still deserved to have Jack Cole.

             
He crossed the space between us in two swift strides and kissed me on top of the head.

             
“It will only be for a couple of days and then I’ll be back.”

             
But for how long? It was the first time I realized we’d never discussed what would happen after our two weeks were up. Surely he wouldn’t continue to live in May’s pink apartment and cruise around with me in my beat up old Jeep like he had no home or real life of his own back on the West Coast.

             
I forced a smile. “When are you leaving?”

             
“The car should be here in an hour. And then my agent’s arranging for a jet to come and pick me up at the nearest airport.” He was already heading for the door.

             
Shortly after, all three of us girls were standing in the driveway, waving good bye as the limo drove off. Talk about a reality check. I was about to burst into tears right then and there when I heard my phone jingle. It was a text from Brady.
Check the downstairs apartment
.

             
Curious, I turned to May for answers. Before I even verbalized a thing she said, “Why don’t you just go see?”

             
Obviously she knew. One glance down at my daughter’s face told me she was also aware of what was waiting for me. The butterflies were already creating a vortex at the pit of my stomach. I never understood how such pleasant emotions could cause a physical reaction that made you want to puke your guts out and keel over.

             
As fast as my wobbly knees would carry me, I hurried back inside and made a sharp right to May’s door. I threw it open prepared to search the place for whatever he had hidden there, but there was no need to. It was right there in the open. Bouquets upon bouquets of flowers in every different size and color, were placed on every surface imaginable all throughout the small apartment.

             
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “How?”

             
“After breakfast. You were in the shower when they arrived. It took two guys and the three of us to unload them all.” May was still hovering in the doorway. “Come on Jessa, let’s go play a round of crazy eights while your mama wanders around smelling all the flowers.”

             
I heard the door shut behind me as I walked further into the room. As I approached the first arrangement of yellow tulips, I noticed a small card stuck in the midst of the flowers. I pulled it out and read it.
Your eyes are stunning
. I smiled and shook my head as I took out a single tulip and moved on to the next vase. There was another card.
You’re an amazing mother
. I held the card to my heart, took another flower and continued.

By the time I reached the bedroom, the sample bouquet I’d been collecting was so large I needed two hands to hold it. I’d received compliments on everything from my painting to my ass, right down to the sexy way I curled my lip when I was amused with my own jokes – definitely something I’d never heard before.

              Placed in the center of the bed was the most extravagant display of long-stemmed red roses I’d ever seen in my life. My heart was beating so fast and hard, it was making the rest of my body vibrate in rhythm. I reached down to retrieve the final card, brimming with anticipation. It was blank. Confused, I flipped it over.
I’ll tell you when I see you
.

             

 

 

I
hadn’t been exactly honest about the call I’d received or what it was that had taken me away in the first place, but the lie had been necessary. I just hoped that when she found out, Embers would feel the same.

It was almost surreal being back in my hometown, being in my own house and driving my own car. Like the week before had never even happened.

Part of me had wanted to see if life could go back to how it was before I met Embers. Wanted to know if I could go back to my world and not miss her, because that was one place I’d never had her. There would be no gaping hole for her to fill. Only there was. In me.

I had barely been in back in my own four walls for fifteen minutes when my phone rang. I answered expecting it to be her.

“Miss me?”

“Always, kiddo.” It wasn’t Embers. It was Moira. My mother’s hair stylist.

“Damn. This is awkward.” I chuckled as I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter and went to search the fridge for something to drink.

“What? That greeting was intended for me?” I could hear Barbra Streisand crooning her lungs out in the background. My mother’s go to soundtrack for day to day life. Moira was at my parents’ house.

“Not exactly, no. If it’s all the same to you, I’d be happy to move on to something else now.” The last thing I needed was for my mother to catch wind of this conversation and start asking questions.

Moira laughed loudly. “Oh, kid. You can relax. Your mother’s out by the pool soaking up the sun. No risk of her finding out that you’ve gone out and fallen for someone.”

“Yeah, okay. Well, we’re not calling it that and I’d rather you didn’t either.” I snagged a cold bottle of water and then moved on to the back deck.

“You can call it whatever you want, won’t much change what it is though, will it?” I could tell she was gearing up for one of her hair stylist therapy sessions.

“Think we could skip the insight and analyzing today and just get right to the point?”

“The point? Do I have one of those? Oh, yeah. Family dinner. Tomorrow night. You gonna make it?”

“Do I ever?” I hadn’t made it to family dinner in over five years. I wasn’t about to break my lucky streak now.

“Oh, well. I tried,” Moira sighed. Wasn’t like she hadn’t known what my answer would be. “Sure you don’t want any of my ancient wisdom regarding your new lady love?”

“Wait. What makes you think it’s not Brit?” Obviously it wasn’t, but still. How did hell did psychic Moira know that?

She laughed again. “Why would I think it was Brit? The only feelings you ever had for that girl started out as a tingling sensation in your pants and never went much further.”

“Well, this has definitely gone further. Much further.” I stared out at the water. Hard to believe Embers and I had gone from standing face to face, to being back to back with three thousand miles between us.  Thank God it was temporary.

 

Two days later and Brady hadn’t returned. Neither had our truck. It had now been ten days already since Austin had taken off with it and put us temporarily out of business. Our social media accounts had been blowing up with people asking where we were and when we would be back. The only thing that made the whole situation even worse was not being able to give them a real answer.

             
Austin had been refusing my calls since Friday and when I actually drove out to his house on Sunday, there had been no sign of him or our truck. Since our divorce he had switched jobs twice, and currently I had no idea where his place of employment was, so basically, we were at his mercy. Of course he knew that and likely relished every second of it.

             
I wasn’t worried so much about missing a week or two of work. Financially we’d make it through the month, but I had no idea the repercussions our business would have to face in the long run because of our inexplicable absence.

             
It was a dog eat dog world out there and May and I had worked ungodly hours for the first year of our business to establish a name for ourselves. We had finally reached a place where we could slow down and work nights only. Unless of course, we felt like picking up an extra day by showing up at the beach or at some event going on in town.

             
Now, someone else had already had over a week to swoop right in and feed the hungry people we had left hanging after long nights of bar hopping and boozing. The longer we were gone, the easier it would be for some new sandwich to satisfy their late night cravings and then our menu would become obsolete.

             
“I think we need to talk to Mom again about taking a mortgage out on the house. If we told her what was happening, I think she’d do it.” May was sitting at the small desk in the living room searching the internet for a new food truck to buy. She’d been there all evening, relentlessly hunting down the elusive solution to our problem and she had yet to find it.

             
“No way. This house is the only asset Mom has. What if she needs it one day?” I hit send on yet another text to Austin and slid my phone into my back pocket. “We just need to make it through six more months with him. Six more months and then the bank will let us take out a big enough business loan to buy the truck from him. Then it will finally be over.”

             
May closed out the page she was on and grumbled, “Our business might be over before then if we don’t get the truck back soon.”

             
I closed my eyes and tried to bring better feelings back to the forefront. I had spent the previous week on cloud nine just being around Brady, and now as the days wore on, Austin’s dark cloud continued to take over, casting a pitch black shadow which was getting harder and harder to escape. Without Brady to lean on, it was even more difficult.

             
I fought the urge to call him, reminding myself that he was working and couldn’t take my calls every second of the day. Besides. This wasn’t his problem. It was mine.

             
I heard May’s phone buzz and watched as her eyes flew right to the clock above the TV. Then, with an odd amount of fervor given our situation, she jumped from her seat and declared, “Fuck this shit. You and I are going out!”

             
“I’m sorry. What now?” As certain as I was that I had understood correctly, I was equally convinced that I hadn’t.

             
“You and me. We’re going out. Go get changed. I’ll be back up in ten to do your hair.”

             
I still wasn’t getting it. “What are you talking about? We can’t go out. What about Jessa?”

             
May couldn’t be swayed or slowed down. “I’ll text Margo while you get dressed. You take longer.” She was already out the door when she yelled back, “Black strapless dress and your lavender cropped cardigan. I’ll bring shoes when I come back up.”              She was gone before I could refuse...or decline the shoes which likely came with a heel.

             
Still not really understanding what was going on, I followed orders and started going through the motions. I was standing in my closet pulling the dress she had told me to wear from the hanger when I heard her voice over the intercom. “And be a fucking grown up and wear some matching underwear for a change!”

             
I looked down at myself as I stood there in my hot pink thong and nude colored bra. Why the hell did it matter if they matched or not? Worried she would demand to see for herself, I dug around my drawer until I found the only matching set I had. It was sheer black lace and even I had to admit, I felt annoyingly more put together and feminine once I put it on.

             
I had barely finished applying my make-up when May showed up again, yielding a curling iron. It was ironic really that between the two of us it was the girl with only two inches of hair, versus the one whose long strands reached all the way down to her ass, who knew how to use one.

             
For the time being I ignored the strappy black and silver heels she had brought along as well and instead took note of her own ensemble. May had impeccable style. Edgy but classy. This was perfectly displayed by her hot pink stilettoes, white skinny jeans, black blouse and mini blazer. Then on top, her fuchsia hawk tied the whole thing together.

             
It took her less than twenty minutes to turn my usual do into something worthy of a shampoo commercial.

When we emerged from the room, me stumbling in my ridiculous shoes, Margo was already camped out on the couch watching re-runs of the Golden Girls.

              I snuck into Jessa’s room to steal one last kiss from my sleeping baby and then we took off.

             
“So, did you want to tell me where we’re going? I mean, you do have a destination in mind, don’t you?” I was shifting around trying to get comfortable, but it was nearly impossible. I couldn’t tell if it was due to the stupid hamster car or my rather constricting outfit. My guess it was the latter.

             
“Would you relax? This is going to be fun! Trust me.” She gave me a knowing wink and all it did was make me want to scream. I hated not knowing almost as much as I hated not being in control, so this was pretty much my definition of hell.

             
The drive only took like twenty minutes, but it felt like twenty hours since I refused to speak the entire way. Even after we were parked in the parking garage, I had no idea where on earth we were going or why so much attention had been paid to my appearance.

             
“Here we are,” May announced as she pulled open the door to what appeared to be the back entrance to a large warehouse. Once inside, we found ourselves walking down a dimly lit hallway that had all the makings of a setting fit for a wide array of criminal activities. Instinctively, I huddled closer to my sister, who shot me a dirty look when I bumped into her three consecutive steps in a row.

             
As we neared the end of the hall, I could hear music coming from somewhere in the building. May reached the door before I did and opened it for me.

             
“I don’t want to go in first,” I hissed.

             
“Stop being such a fucking pussy.” Her hand reached out and grabbed my elbow, practically hurling me into the dark room ahead. Much to my horror, I heard the door close behind me immediately after, with no signs of May having followed me in.

             
I was about to make a run for it when I heard footsteps approaching. Automatically, my head turned in their direction.

             
Standing right in front of me was Brady. He was dressed in an all-black suit and tie, perfectly tailored to fit his amazing body.

             
“What are you doing here?” I nearly choked on my own voice trying to get the words out.

             
“Making a gesture.” He smiled softly as the lights came up along the walls around us, each one of them highlighting poster sized images, all beautifully framed and matted. I recognized them instantly. They were my paintings. Or rather, pictures of my paintings.

             
“How did you do this?” I could barely catch my breath as I stared from one print to the next.

BOOK: I Call Him Brady
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