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CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
KEELY
My parents stare at me. Unmoving. They’re not even blinking. I don’t know if they’re breathing at this point. Their glasses are suspended in the air halfway to their mouths, still as statues.
My words came out like verbal diarrhea. Which I guess is why they’re just staring at me, almost as if I’ve turned into an alien right in front of their eyes. I cannot believe this is real life.
What the actual shit is wrong with me? I have zero finesse.
The silence is deafening until, luckily, my mother breaks it, because I’m about to start rambling, and I have no idea what else would come out at this point. I’m afraid I would make things worse.
“You’ve what?” my mother asks.
I guess I should somewhat explain. Telling them I’ve found Thea’s father is only the tip of this iceberg and deserves more clarification. I’m not sure if I can. The explanation would be too personal, and while this is a personal situation, it’s not that deep, and they should know everything, especially since I came here and asked to move back in.
Pressing my lips together, I wait for them to say something else. I’ve already said what I can say. I don’t have anything else for them, not really. Well, nothing they want to, or should, know about Brock and me.
Who he really is.
But they will, because there is no hiding who Brock is, especially when he comes into this house wearing the vest that doesn’t just say who he is or what he is. It shouts it. Embroidered, emblazoned, so I guess all shit will just have to be lost.
Sucking in a breath, I hold it as I watch them. There is a long moment of silence, and I can’t help but try to keep my breathing even and calm. I completely fail because, in just a few seconds, my breathing begins to come out in short, quick pants.
My father finally moves, but it’s only to tilt his head to the side. “Are you trying to tell me that after a year, you’ve found this elusive man?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod my head once, trying to calm myself down enough to speak. “I was at Briar’s baby announcement thing today. When I was leaving her condo and heading to my car, there was a different party at the pool. He saw me and walked up to us.”
“He just happened to be there? At a different party?” my father asks.
I can tell that he’s trying to think about what this means. And he’s going through the probabilities and possibilities that we would meet this way after a year. But it’s not like I stayed here in town all that time, and I can’t help but wonder if I would have run into him sooner if I had come back after finding out about Thea in the beginning.
“We met randomly at a biker bar I would have never gone into had I not been set up on a date. So, random, happenstance, or maybe fate played her hand again, and he saw me... saw us.”
“So, he’ll financially be responsible now that you know his name?” my mother states, throwing back the contents of her glass, then sets it down on the side table beside her. “Now that that’s settled, you’ll be able to get back to your little school and get your business going again.”
I stare at my mother, not quite sure if she’s serious. First of all, my little school afforded me a comfortable living, even in California, so that’s saying something. I just couldn’t be a single mother to a newborn and work full-time plus pay for day care full-time. Something had to give, and unfortunately, it meant me leaving.
“You know, once you get all set up, you could work down at the club. They’re always looking for people in the spa.”
I almost laugh, partially because this is the first time she’s brought this up, mainly because they were embarrassed of their unwed, no-father-to-her-baby daughter. But now that Thea’s father is in contact, it’s like everything is better. I’m no longer someone to be completely and totally ashamed of, just a little bit ashamed.
“He wants us to move in with him,” I state.
I don’t want to get into the conversation of work right now. I’m going to stick to my plan of working for Clare until I have enough money to get my hours in at the massage therapist school and save enough to apply for all my licensing. The plan is the plan, and I’m not changing that.
“Who is he?” my father demands. “You didn’t know his name yesterday, but you must’ve certainly received his information now?”
I don’t want to tell him a damn thing. It’s not his business. It’s mine, and I’d like to keep it that way, but the way my dad’s head looks like it’s about to explode, I decide I need to say something, or I’m afraid there might be a medical emergency.
“His name is Brock, and he’s going to be here in about an hour to take me out on a date.”
“Isn’t it a little late to worry about dates?” my mother asks, wrinkling her nose. “And did you just announce you’re moving in with him, with my granddaughter? I don’t think so.”
I take a deep breath. I want to tell my mother to relax. And also, why does she care so much all of a sudden? Plus, it’s not really her business what I do.
I’m thirty years old.
