My stomach constricted. That was quite the icy response.
“He wants a more mature relationship,” Sylvia argued.
“Did he tell you that?”
“Not in so many words, but I know it.”
Bree rolled her eyes. “Be happy you got some free meals out of him at places you wouldn’t be able to go on your own.” She was brutally matter of fact. “I get that you thought this was going somewhere—you always think it’s going somewhere—but the warning signs were there from the start.”
Sylvia made a huffing sound that reminded me of a bull about to charge. “You never want what’s best for me,” shecomplained, switching tactics on a dime. “You never have sympathy for me.”
Bree merely shrugged. “I just know how you play the game. You play to win but never actually win. This time wasn’t going to be any different.”
“But … we have so much in common.” Sylvia wrung her hands.
“Yeah?” Bree eyed her mother with an unreadable look. “Do you like brussels sprouts?”
The question was so jarring I did a double take.
“Of course I like brussels sprouts,” Sylvia shot back. “What kind of question is that?”
Bree’s eyes moved to me. “Does your dad like brussels sprouts?”
It wasn’t a trick question, yet it felt like one. “Um… he likes roasted brussels sprouts,” I replied after a beat. “They’re his favorite vegetable.”
Bree nodded as if that was the response she was expecting. “And there it is.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Sylvia sputtered.
“Well, Steve Winters didn’t like brussels sprouts, so you hated them,” she replied, not missing a beat. “Linc Reynolds loved them, so you learned a new recipe. Bob Cornell hated them, and you were back to hating them. Carter Kressley liked to roast them on the grill, so you were gung-ho to do that.” She paused a beat. “And so on and so on.”
In that moment, I realized what Bree was doing. She loved Sylvia because she was her mother, but she had zero respect for the woman, and they weren’t close. Sylvia had never been a mother to Bree. She’d kept Bree alive until Bree could be the one to take care of them both.
Slowly, I exhaled. Nobody had ever taken care of Bree. That was why she seemed so unsure when I wanted to take care of her.She was always on her own and had grown used to it, assuming that was the way it had to be. If I wanted her to commit fully to me, I had to make her realize I didn’t just want to take care of her, but we needed to take care of each other.
I flopped back onto the pillow, excited to finally understand what needed to happen. Then I spoke without thinking. “My father isn’t ever going to commit to you. I’m sorry. You seem very nice.”
That was a gross exaggeration. I didn’t like Sylvia, because I knew how she’d treated Bree when she was growing up. That hardly mattered, though. Even if everything went exactly how I wanted, Sylvia wasn’t going to be a regular fixture in our lives. She would pop in and out at extended intervals. Bree would let her because it was easier than the alternative. But Sylvia wasn’t going to be family.
“Rufus likes me,” Sylvia insisted. “We’ve had absolutely fascinating conversations.”
“My father never got over my mother’s death,” I countered. “He was a crappy husband to her, and I have no doubt he cheated back then, but he loved her with his whole heart. He’s canonized her. My mother wasn’t perfect, but he remembers her that way because he feels guilty about causing her pain. She knew about the affairs. She ignored them because she was building a better life for me.”
Sylvia frowned. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.”
“So you’ll understand. My father’s two most recent wives were distractions. He didn’t even pretend to love them. He’s never going to love anybody but my mother. He’s always going to feel guilty because he was a bad husband. You can’t fix that.”
Sylvia’s forehead creased, and I could practically hear the gears in her mind working. “Maybe I can help him with that. With the guilt, I mean.”
I opened my mouth to tell her it wasn’t going to happen—the woman was wasting her time, for crying out loud—but Bree stopped me with a small headshake. Her eyes said it all.It’s a waste of time.I clamped my mouth shut.
“Mother, do what you feel you need to do,” Bree said firmly. “If you get arrested for stalking him, I’m not going to bail you out. Just keep that in the back of your mind. Now, get out of here. Brody and I were sleeping.”
Sylvia edged toward the door. She looked lost in thought. She stopped before exiting. “Are you two a thing now?”
I held my breath as I waited for Bree to answer. I was curious what her response would be. It wouldn’t change my plan—I would make her feel safe one way or another—but I needed insight into where her head was at.
“No, Mom,” she said dryly. “I just bring random men home to sleep in my bed.”
