“Yeah?” She looked up at me.
“We’ll figure it out.”
I couldn’t turn away from my responsibilities, even if it meant going back on my word to Brielle. I had fathered a child and I refused to abandon a helpless infant the way my parents had. So I sent Julian after her. He loved her almost as much as I did. I hoped he’d bring her back once everything was better. I never expected her to marry him. And every time I sent her an email, it went unanswered.
I craved her touch, her laughter. Being around her made my life better.
Delaney had ushered her into the living room and then asked me to keep Caleb occupied while they talked. But I wanted to be the one to talk to her. She looked tired when I first saw her, and the spark in her eyes had dimmed.
Caleb bounced the basketball up and down the driveway as I watched him, but my mind was elsewhere. What the hell had my brother gotten into?
“Dad, that was a three point shot, right?”
I nodded and pulled out my cell phone. If Delaney wanted to talk to Brielle first, I needed to talk to Julian.
“Hello?” he answered. He sounded agitated, and I knew why he was angry.
“She’s here,” I assured him.
“What?”
“Your wife.” I shook my head slowly, hating that small fact. “She arrived here a little while ago. You want to tell me what going on, little brother?”
“She’s okay? She’s there?” I heard his voice break and I knew he was crying. What had happened between these two?
“Julian, what the hell is going on?”
“It’s all my fault. Last night I was drunk, and I did things I will regret for the rest of my life.” He cleared his throat. “She was in bed this morning when I left, and when I got back from work her clothes were gone. She didn’t call, didn’t leave a note.”
“What did you two fight about?”
“I don’t remember, bro. She painted a wall red and then accused me of cheating.”
I exhaled. “Did you cheat?”
“I don’t ask you about your fucking marriage. Why are you so concerned about mine?” The temper Julian had as a child had returned.
“I ask because your wife drove twelve hours to tell me you need help.”
“Fuck! I can’t lose her, Moose.”
Holding the phone to my ear, I bowed my head. “Get your shit packed, sober the fuck up, and get on a plane tomorrow morning.”
“I need to see her now,” Julian barked.
“I doubt that the girl who drove twelve hours to knock on my door and ask for help is ready to forgive you. She’s talking to Del now. I’ll make sure she’s safe. Let her calm down, sleep it off, and tomorrow you two can talk.”
Julian was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay. Moose. Tell her I love her.”
“Will do.” I sighed and hung up the phone.
Glancing back at the house I noticed Delaney in the kitchen window. “Where is she?” I mouthed to her. Del raised her hand like a telephone and brought it close to her ear. I nodded. “Caleb?” I turned back to the basketball hoop. “Dinner’s almost ready, so wash up and help your mother set the table.”
Caleb bounced the basketball in my direction. “Is Aunt Brielle staying for dinner?”
“Yes. Now go before your mother comes looking for you.”
Caleb ran across the deck and into the house. I put the basketball away and went to search for Brielle. I didn’t know what to say to her, or if she even wanted to talk to me, but there was no other way.
When my mother gave us this home, I first refused it. It didn’t seem right that I inherit it. My entire life I was the foster kid no one wanted. Louisa was the only one who took me in. She had done enough for me; giving me a house free of charge was too much. She and Warren had decided to fellowship with the church and would be living in Ecuador. I offered to buy it from them for the market price but Louisa wouldn’t accept it. We ended up agreeing that I would buy it for the same price they purchased it for.
Once they left, I began to work on it, customizing it to suit my wife’s desires. The house was perfect for me, but Delaney insisted on a new kitchen, updated bathrooms, and new hardwood floors.
I’d walked into the hardware store, clueless. I had a list of things I wanted to do and no idea how to accomplish any of it. I asked an employee for help, and soon realized the projects Delaney wanted would cost thousands of dollars. I didn’t know what to say to my wife, so I sat on the Adirondack chair the store had for sale and contemplated it. That chair was the first thing I bought for the house. Every Sunday afternoon, I’d crack open a beer, sit on the chair, and think of Brielle.