The main photograph was of her and Brodie walking to the park, Zoey holding both their hands. Zoey’s face was blurred out, but she’d obviously said something funny because Maeve and Brodie were both laughing, looking dotingly down at their daughter.
They’d clearly waited to run the story until they got the other money shot—Brodie and Maeve dancing face to face at the Summer Fair, her cheeks flushed, hair mussed from the carnival rides, Brodie looking as slick as a movie star in his shirt and tie, Zoey’s grinning face in the background.
Maeve thought she might be sick.
The doorbell went.
She went to open it, fearful it might be reporters, but it was Brodie, early for a change, back to his normal casual self in blue jeans and a white T-shirt.
“Have you seen it?” she said, her hand trembling on the door lock.
Brodie shrugged. “I’ve seen it.” He walked inside like nothing had happened.
“Are there photographers out there?” she asked, peeking her head out before she shut the door.
Brodie paused. “Maeve, have you seen who published the pictures? We are not headlines news! If there’s anyone out there, it’ll just be one or two max.”
“That’s one or two too many!” she replied, unable to believe how casual he was being. “This is my life,” she hissed. “Zoey’s life!”
“You’ll get used to it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to get used to it.”
“Well…” He held his hands out like it was too late for that. Then he said, “Is there coffee?”
She followed him into the kitchen.
“Where’s Zoey?” he asked.
“She’s still asleep.”
“Man, I wish I could still sleep like her,” he said, getting a mug from the cupboard. “When I’m awake nowadays, I just have to get up.”
“Brodie!”
He stopped pouring coffee for a second. “Sorry, did you want one? I figured you already had one.” He opened the cupboard to get another cup.
“Brodie! Our photograph is online. I have moms from the school messaging me! People from the hospital! You’re saying there might be one or two reporters outside, like that’s nothing. Well, it’s not nothing to me. I don’t want them there.” She pulled out a chair and sat down with a sigh.
Brodie placed a mug of coffee in front of her, made, she had to note, just as she liked it, then went and sat down in the chair opposite her.
“Just smile, Maeve,” he said. “That’s all you gotta do. Smile and say hi and keep walking. It’s only if they think you’re hiding something that they’re real interested, that’s when they get excited. That’s why they like the picture of Zoey.” He took a slug of his coffee then sat back, arm looped round the back of the chair. “And, well, that’s done now, so…”
Maeve sat with her hands at her temples. How could he be so relaxed? Was it the photograph or was it that she was hiding something? That her heart beat way too fast around him. That she dreamt about him. That she wanted him not to jet off to Vegas at weekends but be content to sit with her in her grandma’s house while their daughter made bracelets or slept soundly upstairs.
It was a simple fact that she would never be enough for him—a cliché to think she might be—but she feared the camera wouldn’t fail to miss that longing in her eyes.
More messages came through on her phone on the table. One from Bella.I know how you must feel but don’t worry. It’ll be old news tomorrow, I promise x. Then immediately afterwards she sent another.BTW, you’re DEFINITLEY not a Plain Jane!
Brodie read them upside down as they came up on the screen, her phone lying between them.
“This is a nightmare.” Maeve put her head on the table.
Brodie just laughed. “Come on, it’s funny.”
“Plain Jane, Love Child.” Maeve sat up straight again and shook her head. “Brodie, I’m a doctor! I’m a normal person. This cannot happen to me.”
Brodie raised his hands either side of him and said, “Well, it has happened.” He picked up his coffee again and seemed to quite enjoy watching her freak out.
