But she might think about taking Trip away from Bronwyn and me if she thinks we can’t provide for him.
That could be a problem, and one perhaps I should have considered before rushing them into therapy. Bronwyn birthedhim, yet understandably, in my mind, due to the circumstances, had little to do with him until recently. Would they trust us with his mental and physical safety?
One thing’s for certain, I’m not going to share my worries with Bron. With my brothers, of course, so we can come up with a plan. But with her? No. I’m not going to upset her.
I get the confirmation, keeping quiet about my own concerns is the right thing to do, when after having put Trip to bed, Bronwyn comes back down the stairs and joins me.
“Short,” she starts, her face tight, her voice full of anguish. “How can I do this? I accepted he was damaged, but there’s a chance I was wrong. Oh, he’s got problems and probably always will, but not to the extent I thought. It was evident he has a brain that works, as shown by the tests Dr. Hancock gave him. And it’s probable that the cruel way my parents treated him is the reason he doesn’t talk or show his emotions. How can I live with the guilt I didn’t step in at the time, and how can I help him now?”
Swinging around to her, I place my hands gently on her arms, a light touch so she doesn’t feel trapped, and in that instance, wonder whether she has any inkling of the damage her parents caused her in turn. “Listen to me, Bron. The therapist is there to guide and help you to know what’s best for him. It’s not your fault, darlin’. Your parents weaved a fiction that became reality when Trip retreated inside his head, all down to the cruelty they doled out. He was protecting himself, and it’s become habit. Trip won’t be fixed in a day or two. He’ll continue to need specialist help. But you know what will help most of all?” She looks up at me with wide-open eyes, then looks away. “Us showing him the love he’s never experienced before and treating him as a normal kid. While, of course, helping him to navigate this new world of opportunities he finds himself in.” Removing one of my hands from her arm, I place a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me again. “You know what won’t work? You taking any blamefor the way he is. He doesn’t need you moping, and worrying about the past. You’ve got a new life ahead of you, and I know you’ve got it within you to embrace it. Stop harking back to things we can’t change, and focus on the future we can.”
She stares at me, and fuck it, for a moment, all I can focus on are her lips, and how kiss-worthy I think they are. I try to remind myself she’s just as, if not more, damaged than Trip.
Her words pull me out of the trance I’m in. “What if we can’t help him? What do I know about bringing up a child, especially one like him? And you, Short, you’re good with Trip, but you have no experience with children.”
Snorting, I bark a laugh. “We’ll learn together, Bron. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but after spending today with him, I know I want to try. Will I fuck up? Of course, but isn’t that what parenting is?” Finally tearing my eyes away from her face, I glance around the room. “One thing we can do is make this place a proper home. I wish I had somewhere better to offer you, but for now, this is it. Let’s get some paint on the walls and all the furniture we need.”
“That’ll take money.”
“Fuck the money. I’ve got enough. Let me do this, Bron. For you and our boy.” I take a breath, then tell her, “You both deserve somewhere to call home and be surrounded by nice things.”
Bronwyn throws herself at me, her arms circling as much of me as she can, while mine automatically pull her close to me. The warmth of her body leaching into mine is all I’ve been dreaming about. I stand, still as a stone, so as not to frighten her, but not rigid, never that, no. I relax so she can take all the comfort she needs.
I’m just so fucking glad it seems, at last, she’s starting to trust me.
