Brodie had a moment’s confusion at the question, as if his days of “getting lucky” were already a whole other lifetime. “Not in the way you’d think.”
Noah laughed. “What does that mean?”
But Brodie found he couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t or didn’t want to. “Nothing,” he said with an easy laugh. To voice it made it real. At the moment, Maeve and Zoey were like his childhood Star Wars figures; all set up in his bedroom but only existing if he decided to pick them up and play. Tell his family the truth about Zoey, and he could only imagine the snowball effect. They would be drawn in and consumed by the Carters. He would lose any agency as they became part of their combined lives. He would be tied to the ranch and Autumn Falls, whether he liked it or not. No escape. He would regress, back to being the boy his father saw him as; the useless one with nothing to offer except a better than average singing voice. The thought made a shiver of what could only be fear run through him. “Right, I’d better go.”
Martha said, “So soon? I wanted to show you how the shop’s getting along.” Her latest venture was The Silver Pantry, an old barn she was converting into an organic produce and lifestyle store.
But Brodie was already on his way, his T-shirt feeling suddenly tight, his skin on fire again, his legs taking him away as fast as politely possible. “Yeah, I really want to see that! I’ll come by tomorrow.” He smiled wide to counterbalance his mom’s face of disappointment. But the easy grin faded the moment his back was turned.
ChapterNine
The door flew open. “Brodie!” Zoey had obviously been waiting there for him to arrive.
Brodie had been sitting in his car for the last ten minutes debating whether or not to drive away. “Zoey, isn’t it? Right?” He pointed at her, looking mock-confused.
She giggled. She looked super cute in a Taylor Swift T-shirt and tie-dye shorts.
He grinned. Then handed her a massive box of beads and charms that he’d bought from the toyshop in town on the way over.
He’d walked into the shop like he was trespassing, eyes suddenly awash with stuffed animals and Lego sets and, quite frankly, things he’d never thought he’d need to see again in his life. The girl behind the counter had chosen the bead box for him.
Zoey gasped in delight. “Wow!” Then almost immediately, “Mom is going to go nuts.”
“Why?” Brodie couldn’t understand how he’d managed to do something wrong without even setting foot in the house.
“Because this is, like, a Christmas present.” Zoey marveled over the fancy box.
Brodie chilled out. He owed the kid eight Christmas presents—one for each year Maeve had denied him. He readied himself with that comeback as Zoey raced ahead toward the kitchen and he strode down the hall, defensively righteous, behind her.
But then in the kitchen he saw Maeve listening, rapt, as Zoey showed her the box and together they forensically examined each little compartment, pointing out the tiny pliers and beads stamped with the letters of the alphabet. When Maeve looked up, there was no annoyance on her face, she just bashed Zoey on the shoulder and said, “Have you said thank you?”
“Yes,” Zoey replied immediately without taking her eyes off the beads. Then she paused and said, “No.” She looked up at Brodie and said, “Thanks, Brodie.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.” He wanted to say,I’m your dad. Instead, he looked at Maeve. “These are for you,” he said, handing her a bunch of flowers, equally over the top. Where the bead box seemed fun in its lavishness, the bouquet seemed immediately too expensive, gaudy even, among the everyday-ness of their home.
During his very short-lived marriage, they’d paid a guy to refresh the flowers in their house what seemed like every day.
Brodie did his best not to think of those days. He was at the height of his solo fame but lonelier than he’d ever been. Celeste M. was similar levels of famous as him and model-beautiful. They looked good in photos together, everyone said they were the perfect couple. His management team were delirious at the idea of marriage. In retrospect they were playing at being grown-ups, with their huge house and their little dogs.
Aside from growing up at the ranch, his marriage was the only other touchstone he had for family life. Five minutes in Maeve and Zoey’s house was enough to tell him that his attempt had been as bad as theNational Enquirersuggested it was.
As Maeve thanked him for the flowers, he took an instinctive step away, hands in his pockets, on the pretense of taking a look around. He didn’t want to tell Zoey he was her dad. That would be a very bad idea. He peered into the living room, at the wooden floors and the shagpile rug, the coffee table covered in papers and felt-tip pens, the iPad propped up, a book open on the well-worn couch.
Behind him, Maeve said, “This was my grandmother’s house. I haven’t had time to do much to it so don’t judge me on the furnishings.” She said it kind of jokey, but he wondered if the whole time she was thinking,he’s going to annihilate me in court.
“It’s really nice,” he said, turning round, hands still in his pockets. On the wall behind him was a pair of moose antlers and a watercolor of Starlight Mountain at sunset. “Homely.”
She made a face. “That’s a polite way of putting it.”
He laughed, couldn’t help himself.
She smiled, then tucked her long hair almost self-consciously behind her ears.
It was strange interacting with her. On the one hand, there was obviously some attraction because they’d slept together—although she was completely the opposite of his type. On the other hand, she was a total stranger and effectively the enemy—she’d kept knowledge of his daughter from him for eight years. Butenemydidn’t feel like the right word. Because as he turned at the sound of a million tiny beads hitting the floor to see Zoey looking up guiltily holding the overzealously ripped packet in her hands, he was secretly—shamefully—quite relieved that Maeve had never told him.
She went to get the dustpan and brush and Brodie pulled up a chair next to Zoey. “So, what are we making?”
“Name bracelets,” she said, “like Taylor Swift.” She pointed to her T-shirt emblazoned with Taylor’s face.
