She knew now that she had become so afraid of stepping out of her comfort zone into the unknown, that she was blinded to all the good things in her life.
Like her grandma said,you gotta to be able admit your mistakes.Maeve couldn’t control if Brodie was going to stay or leave, but she could be open to the possibility that he might stay. That if they did ever get together, it might not work, but on the other hand it might. She had seen enough life and death at work to know that right now was all they could guarantee, and maybe what Brodie needed most of all was someone to believe in him.
Pride and fear had stopped her from giving him a chance.
She owed him a chance.
“I promise, Zoey.”
ChapterForty-Two
Brodie paced his Malibu home. Up and down like a panther. He’d done everything he normally did when he was there. He’d gone to a friend’s beach club for a party, where he’d stayed till the sunrise glowed like copper on the water. He’d fine-dined at his usual table at Nobu. He’d driven out to the State Park to do his favorite run. But none of it hooked him the way it usually did. It felt like he was killing time rather than living.
His house was right on the beach with direct access to the sand. He looked out at the paltry surf, waves too small to tempt him. He crossed his arms on the balcony and rested his head on his forearms. He didn’t know what he was doing, couldn’t think straight.
A message came through on his phone. He’d had it mainly on silent—ignoring calls from Maeve, from his brothers, from his mom. He checked it now, it was a message from Maeve. It would surely be something telling him not to bother coming back, how he’d sadly lived up to her expectations of him, how upset Zoey was. He didn’t want to read it. He only did because it felt like a punishment he deserved for skipping town. He hated his own actions as much as Maeve did.
He clicked on the message, braced himself.
Not sure where you are or what’s happened, but – and this may sound stupid, especially if you’re in Vegas – I just want you to know that I believe in you. As a dad, as a person, as a friend. Maeve x
Brodie frowned. He closed the message then opened it again to check he’d read it right, hadn’t conjured up an illusion. He had to go and sit down on his couch, read it again.
As a dad, as a person, as a friend.
He realized he was welling up, and dabbed the tears away with the back of his hand.
He flopped against the cushions, perplexed.Why?Whydid she believe in him? He didn’t even believe in himself. He chucked the phone on the couch cushion.
He didn’t want her to believe in him; it was much easier, he realized, to be self-indulgently morose.
“Darn it!” he said, out loud.
He sighed, raking his hands through his hair. What now? He stood up, needed some air. The waves might suck but they’d have to do.
He got his board out and ran down to the water. He rode a few mediocre waves but there was no decent break, nothing to distract him.
In the end, he gave in, paddled right out past the wave line and lay on his board staring out at the horizon.
I believe in you.
He felt a swell of pride—courage, even—flow through him at the idea of her typing the words.
Courage.
You gotta sit with it.
Sit with what?
The sky out ahead built from blue, through orange, up to dusky pink like a rainbow. Clouds drifted in wisps. Gulls floated lazily on the warm air currents.
Images, memories, flowed through Brodie’s mind like a baggage carousel. Shooting hoops with Zoey and Maeve, the scent of Maeve’s perfume when they danced, watching Harry Potter under a blanket. All of that made him smile, resting his chin on his hands, the water bobbing beneath him, lulling him like a cradle.
He thought further back. Saw Logan carrying him home as a kid on his shoulders when he twisted his ankle. Making his sister Willow laugh so hard when she was eating her cereal that milk came out her nose. Sitting next to his mom at the piano, singing a song they wrote together.
Seeing his mom cry at his brother Jack’s funeral.
Drinking hot chocolate with Maeve that fateful night. Playing on his PlayStation with Ethan, laughing at the smell of the tour bus after a week on the road. Playing practical jokes on Jack because he always got the maddest and there was a nerve-racking thrill that came from making him lose his temper. Waiting under a trap door beneath the stage, listening to the growing crescendo of screaming applause, the ground beneath him shaking. Rising up, ears ringing as the noise got louder and louder, arms spread wide, drinking it all in like a superpower. Looking across and just seeing his brothers, all together on stage. Like being out in the wild together. Same thing, different place. Just them, having a good time. Together.
