Page 10 of Beat of Love
Her best friend had had her own nightmare to deal with — a mother dying of cancer.
“I had Richard.” Sullivan’s cryptic note had knocked her sideways, and their mutual friend had been quick to step in and console her.
“Hmph.”
Brandy exhaled a long, spiritless breath. Her friend was right to scoff. She’d believed Sullivan had never called. But he had. Three months later. That, too, had come to light during his visit last September. Richard had intercepted the call and lied. When she confronted her then soon-to-be ex-husband, he admitted he’d told Sullivan they were engaged.
“You know what I could never understand?” Jackie said.
“What?”
“That yousleptwith Richard. I mean, seriously, Brandy, what were you thinking?”
“I was drunk,” she admitted, softly.
Jackie narrowed her eyes and leaned in. “You were drunk?” she asked under her breath.
“Yeah. That first time we slept together … it was the night of my birthday. I was blotto,” she whispered.
Her friend reared back and roared, “Richard had sex with you while you were drunk?”
“That first time, yeah.”
“What a dick thing—” Jackie’s head snapped up and to the side. “Shit.” She reached out her hand, touching Brandy’s arm. “Amelia.”
Brandy shoved to her feet and turned.
Her eldest sat on the veranda steps a mere ten feet away. Well within hearing distance. How much had she heard? Enough, if her wide-eye expression was to go by. She rushed over. “Honey.”
Amelia put her hands up, warding her off. “Dad had sex with you while you were drunk?”
“Amel—”
“Answer me,” she cried.
“It’s … complicated.”
Amelia harrumphed and shot Jackie a hard look. “You’re right, Aunt Jackie. My father is a dick,” she spat.
“I’m sorry you heard that, love,” Jackie replied. “I’ll just … go inside?”
Brandy waited till Jackie closed the door. “Join me.” She inclined her head to the canvas chairs by the firepit.
After a beat of hesitation, Amelia got to her feet.
Brandy settled back into her chair and patted her thighs. “Come sit.”
“I’m sixteen, Mom. Too big to sit on your lap.”
“My girl is never too big to sit on her momma’s lap.”
With an exaggerated sigh (and a smile she tried to hide) Amelia sat. The chair groaned under their combined weight, and they both froze. But it held, and Brandy closed her arms around her girl. Amelia relaxed completely, laying her head against her shoulder.
She twisted her neck and kissed her daughter’s forehead, tucking an errant blonde tendril escaping Amelia’s ponytail behind her ear. “I’m sorry you heard us badmouth Dad.” No matter what nonsense Richard dished out, she never spoke ill of him to or in front of her children.
“That’s okay.”
“No. Not really.”
