Shooting the Moon (22 page)

“Brandon! Scott’s on the phone for you.”

It wasn’t Lauren. Or his father. Disappointment weighted Brandon’s steps as he made his way across the kitchen, but by the time he picked up the phone, he was as eager as always to speak to his best friend.

“Hi, Scott.”

“What ya doin’?”

“Homework.”

Brandon heard the click that indicated his grandfather had hung up and felt slightly better. At least some things in his life hadn’t changed. He could still talk to his best friend without his grandfather breathing down his neck.

“Any chance you can come over to my house?” Scott asked.

“I don’t think so. I have to finish my homework, then my grandfather’s taking me to a movie.” He tried not to sound so dejected, but Scott picked up on it right away.

“Did you get into trouble?”

“No.”

“Something else wrong?”

Brandon considered explaining, then decided he didn’t
want to talk about it with his grandfather rambling around the house. “No.”

“That’s good. Then maybe you can get out of going to the movies. Your Aunt Lauren called and said if you can come over to my place, she and your father will come by and give us a ride on his bike.”

“She did?” Brandon said, dropping the pen he’d been using to doodle on Lauren’s message pad.

“Yeah.”

“But she won’t let me ride,” he argued. “She’s afraid of motorcycles.”

“She must’ve changed her mind. My mom said I could have a ride, too. Isn’t that cool?”

Brandon smiled, his spirits finally lifting. Harley and Lauren were going to meet him at Scott’s, where Grandfather wouldn’t be around to bother them. That was beyond cool. Maybe the world wasn’t falling apart, after all. Maybe everything was going to work out, just as Lauren had said it would. “That’s awesome,” he said in relief. “I’ll get out of the movie somehow and be over as soon as I can.”

L
AUREN WONDERED
if the sound of a motorcycle engine would bring her father to the door and, for the first time, lamented the fact that Brandon’s best friend lived right across the street. She knew she was pushing her luck having her nephew meet her and Harley in the same neighborhood, let alone in full view of the Worthington front windows. But her father was accustomed to Scott and his visits, phone calls and invitations. She couldn’t come up with any other way to get Brandon out of the house.

Her nephew and his friend were waiting on the porch when she and Harley cruised into Hillside Estates and parked in the Torrins’ front drive. Harley glanced across the street as he got off the bike, obviously checking for trouble, but then turned and smiled easily as his son came running toward them.

“Daddy, Lauren!” Brandon threw his arms around her and then Harley.

“How are you, honey? You okay?” she asked, careful not to put too much weight on her sore ankle.

“I’m better now that you two are here,” he said.

“Scott told us you might not be able to come over, that you were supposed to go to the movies with your grandfather,” Harley said.

Brandon grimaced. “I just asked him if I could go to Scott’s, instead. He was actually kind of glad to let me go, I think. Then he didn’t have to pretend to be happy anymore.”

Lauren felt responsible for some of her father’s unhappiness, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. There hadn’t been anything she could do about it last night, either. She couldn’t help having a different opinion.

“I hope he’ll get over what’s bothering him,” she said. “In any case, your father had better give you your ride before Grandfather sees us. He won’t like the fact that we’re here.”

Brandon waved a hand at the house. “We don’t have to worry about Grandfather. He’s gone. He went to pick up Grandmother from the airport.”

Lauren sent a relieved glance at Harley. She hadn’t wanted an angry scene, especially in front of Scott’s parents.

Harley winked at her. “Relax,” he said. “We’re guests of Scott’s family. We have permission to be here.”

“It’s such a cool bike, isn’t it?” Brandon said to Scott as they began circling Harley’s motorcycle. “It’s called a Soft-Tail.”

Scott whistled. “I wish my dad had a bike like this.”

“So who’s first?” Harley asked.

Not surprisingly, Brandon volunteered. Lauren smiled as she watched Harley help his son don the helmet. Then Brandon climbed on and waved at her and Scott, and Harley drove off. She remembered how frightened she’d once been about this exact sight, but it didn’t frighten her anymore. If Harley was willing to give Brandon up to avoid hurting her, he wasn’t going to drive away with him and never come back.

In the wake of the noise, Scott’s mother came to the door. Like her son, she was tall and thin, with red hair, freckles and hazel eyes. Lauren had always thought her an intelligent, striking woman.

“Hi, Lauren,” she said. “Is that a wrap on your ankle? What happened?”

“I sprained it.”

“Why don’t you come sit down? I heard you pull up, but I was on the phone, or I would’ve come out sooner. Scott told me Brandon’s father is in town. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

Lauren hobbled to the porch and lowered herself to the steps. “Harley’s a good guy,” she said.

Elizabeth Torrin raised her eyebrows, but she was polite enough not to question the statement outright, even though she’d probably heard the story of Brandon’s birth through neighborhood gossip. “I was surprised to see your father back from Europe so soon.”

“He cut his trip short,” Lauren said, her nails instinctively curling into her palms. The fact that she wasn’t supposed to see Brandon made her uncomfortable—made her feel as though she was stealing something—which gave her a great deal more empathy for Harley than she’d ever had before. It was miserable to be barred from associating with a child she felt entitled, by right and relationship, to see.

“Your mother didn’t come back with him?” Elizabeth asked, joining her on the steps.

“No, he’s collecting her at the airport right now.”

She lowered her voice. “Well, I should probably tell you that your father asked me not to let you see Brandon, if you called. But this is my house and my property, and I’m the one who decides who’s welcome here.”

Lauren blinked in surprise. Evidently her father was willing to go to even greater lengths than she’d expected to stop her from visiting Brandon. “Thank you,” she said. “I should probably explain that there’s been a little family…rift, a difference of opinions, but it should smooth itself out eventually. In the meantime, I really appreciate your letting me see my nephew.”

“I know how much you love him,” she said. “And I
know how much he loves you. We’ve raised our boys together these past ten years.”

She said something else, probably in the same vein, but the roar of the motorcycle swallowed it as Harley and Brandon returned.

“Do you mind if Harley gives Scott a ride?” Lauren asked, wanting confirmation even though Scott had already gone charging down the drive, yelling, “It’s my turn!”

“If you trust him with Brandon, I trust him with Scott.” She got up and walked over to Harley to introduce herself, then gave Lauren’s shoulder a reassuring pat as she passed her on the way back into the house. “Now I’ll let you and Brandon have some time alone,” she said.

“Scott’s mother is nice, isn’t she?” Brandon said when Elizabeth had closed the door.

“She is,” Lauren agreed.

“So, are you coming home tonight?”

Lauren took his hand and pulled him down onto the step next to her. “Brandon—”

“Don’t say my name all serious like that,” he said, his eyes widening. “It scares me.”

“Just listen, honey. I won’t be able to come home tonight. I’m not going to be living with Grandma and Grandpa anymore. As you know, we’ve had a disagreement. I think you should be allowed to see your father, and they think he’s a bad influence.”

“But he’s not! You’ve seen how great he is.”

“Yes, but I can’t convince them to trust either of us on that. So what I really need to know is what you want to do. Would you like to live with your father in California?”

“What about you?” he asked, his face clouding with worry.

“I’d move to California, too. I’d rent a house or apart
ment and find a job, and I’d see you as often as possible. Your father’s already agreed to let that happen.”

“So I’d be leaving Grandma and Grandpa?” he said soberly, crossing his arms and supporting them on his knees.

“And Scott,” Lauren pointed out. “Which wouldn’t be easy. But he could come visit you. And you could visit him.”

“A lot?”

“I don’t think your father has much money to spare, and I won’t have a lot, either, especially at first. But we’d fly you back as often as we could afford to, as long as you didn’t miss school.”

“Could I see Grandpa and Grandma when I visit Scott?”

Lauren stretched her leg out in front of her to ease the throbbing of her ankle. “Of course.”

“Then I want to live with you guys in California.”

“You’re sure?”

“Who else would play Hearts with me?” he asked with a smile. “We can’t quit playing till I shoot the moon. At least once.”

Lauren returned his smile. “We’ll keep playing long after that,” she said. “But you need to be patient. What Harley and I are trying to do might take some time.”

The corners of Brandon’s lips turned down almost immediately. “How much time?”

“I can’t say right now. We’ll just have to do our best. But we’ll stay in touch with you through Scott and his mother, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. Then Harley pulled up and Brandon helped Lauren take Scott’s place behind him.

“I love you,” she told him.

“I love you, too. I love you both,” he said and waved goodbye as they taxied out of Hillside Estates.

“He said he loves me,” Harley yelled, and though Lauren couldn’t see his face, she could sense his pleasure.

“He wants to go to California with us,” she told him.

“You’re coming for sure?” Harley asked, pausing at the gate.

“That’s right. We’re all going to California,” she said and tightened her grip around his middle, wanting to hug him but stopping just short in case he took exception to it.

Then Harley gave the bike some gas and they rocketed down the highway, where the rush of the wind and the roar of the engine took her to that world where only she and Harley existed, and she laughed—out loud.

K
IMBERLY WAS AT
the apartment with Tank when Harley returned that evening. He’d helped Lauren up to her room at the hotel over an hour earlier, but he hadn’t stayed. He’d left as soon as possible and had been driving around the city ever since, thinking. So much had happened in the past few days. Most of it was so far removed from anything he’d ever
thought
would happen that he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Brandon’s love and wholehearted acceptance had surprised him. But that was the good part, the part that inspired faith and hope in the future. It was Lauren who confused him. She’d gotten on his bike and wrapped her arms around him. She’d smiled up at him and told him she wanted him to have custody of Brandon. She’d stood beside him despite her father.

What did it all mean? He’d never dared hope for such things. Didn’t know whether to trust them. Audra had professed to love him so many times, had even promised to run away with him on two separate occasions, but when it came right down to it, she hadn’t had the strength to remain true to her word. Which meant she
hadn’t
loved him, at least not enough. And as much as he told himself
Lauren was a different person, he couldn’t help wondering if she’d change her mind about him eventually. She was still a Worthington. He couldn’t expect her to turn her back on her family forever. Quentin would win in the end, and Harley didn’t want to be around when he did.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Tank asked, muting the television as Harley stepped into the room. “Your mother’s been calling. She says you’re not answering your cell.”

“When I’m on my bike, I can’t hear it ring.”

“Well, you might want to give her a call. She seems pretty anxious to get hold of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Where’s Lucy?”

Sounding disappointed, Kimberly answered him from where she was snuggled up beneath Tank’s right arm. “Unfortunately, we had to take her home already.”

“How was the lake?” Harley asked.

Tank and Kimberly glanced at each other and smiled. “Great.”

Harley was glad life was simple for some people. He headed down the hall to his bedroom, eager for privacy and…he didn’t know what. He was frustrated and irritated and couldn’t quit thinking of Lauren in that hotel room all alone.

He had to leave, get out of Dodge quick, he decided. He and Lauren were in agreement about Brandon and they had a plan. He should go home, straighten out the dealership and get ready for Brandon—and Lauren, if she really followed through—to join him in California. There wasn’t any reason to stay, except for the fact that he was starting to believe in Lauren, to trust her…God, to love her!

With a snort of disgust, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his mother.

“I’m coming home tonight,” he said.

“What about the court hearing? I thought you were going to stay until after the court hearing.”

“I’ll fly back for it.”

“What about Brandon?”

“Quentin’s home.”

“Oh, so you’re not allowed to see him anymore. Now I get it.”

Actually, she didn’t get it at all. Harley wasn’t going home because he couldn’t see Brandon. He knew Lauren could arrange a visit or two this week. He was leaving because she was making him forget everything he’d sworn to remember about the Worthingtons—like what had happened the last time he’d let himself fall in love.

“It’s such a long drive,” his mother said. “Why not wait until morning?”

Because by then it might be too late.

L
AUREN ATE ANOTHER
of the chocolates she’d bought at the hotel gift store and flipped through the Pay Per View menu again, looking for yet another movie to distract her. Harley had dropped her off nearly four hours earlier. She’d watched two movies and eaten almost a pound of chocolate since then, but she couldn’t get him off her mind. Why hadn’t he wanted to stay with her? She’d swallowed her fear of being rejected a second time and suggested they rent a movie together. But he’d politely declined and hurried off.

Lauren blinked back the rush of tears that filled her eyes—again—and ate another caramel. She couldn’t blame Harley, could she? Of course he wouldn’t want a twenty-seven-year-old woman who’d spent her whole life trying to please the father she’d just alienated.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother fighting them. So what if she cried? So what if her nose got all red and her face splotchy? There wasn’t anyone to notice. Even Kimberly wasn’t coming over tonight.

Lauren nibbled on another chocolate, decided she didn’t like the nougat filling and put it back in favor of a vanilla crème. Kimberly wasn’t coming because Lauren had told her she was doing fine, that there wasn’t any need. She’d insisted Kimberly go ahead and enjoy her evening with Tank. But they were best friends. Kimberly should’ve
known
she was lying.

Or maybe not. She finished the vanilla crème and shoved the box away before she made herself sick. She’d been pretty convincing on the phone. Kim had sounded so happy, Lauren hadn’t wanted to pull her away. It was Harley who’d let her down.

She shut off the television and glanced around the room, wondering what to do now. Her ankle still hurt so she didn’t want to go out—it was pretty late, anyway—but she wasn’t ready for bed. She’d slept most of the day.

Then she remembered Audra’s journals. They’d been under her bed when she packed, and she’d brought them with her because she hadn’t read all of them and was afraid her father might throw them away if she left them behind.