Page 104
Story: That: Taylor & Brooks
The beginning of family.
The beginning ofthatfeeling she’d been searching for her whole life.
Home.
Chapter 27
Brooks drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his steering wheel, debating one last time if he should if he should even be here.
The Bradshaw home stood before him, a tidy two-story colonial with perfectly maintained flower beds and a large oak tree in the front yard. The kind of respectable, middle-class home that had produced someone like Taylor, grounded, principled, and capable of seeing the good in someone like him.
Brooks checked his watch. 2:00 PM. Reverend Bradshaw would be home from his meetings at the church. Taylor was still at work.
This conversation needed to happen between the men first.
With a deep breath, Brooks stepped out of his vehicle and approached the front door. He’d faced down men with guns before. Stared down threats that would have made most people crumble. Stood his ground when everything around him was chaos.
But something about standing on this porch, about to face Taylor’s father, made his heart pound in a way he wasn’t accustomed to.
He wasn’t afraid. Brooks Bishop didn’t do fear. But he respected what this meant, to Taylor, to their future together, to the child growing inside her.
Before he could knock, the door swung open.Reverend Clarence Bradshaw stood in the doorway, his expression giving nothing away as he took in the sight of Brooks on his porch. His eyes traveled from Brooks’ face down to his shorts and tennis shoes, then back up to the tattoos visible on his forearms, but his expression revealed nothing.
“Bishop.” The older man’s voice was neutral, neither welcoming nor hostile. “Teresa mentioned you called.”
Brooks nodded, extending his hand. “Reverend. Thank you for seeing me.”
A moment passed, then Reverend Bradshaw accepted the handshake. His grip was firm, assessing, the handshake of a man used to making judgments.
“Come in,” he said, stepping aside. “Teresa’s at her women’s group. It’s just us.”
Brooks followed him into the living room, taking in the space that had shaped Taylor. Family photos lined the walls. Taylor in her graduation cap and gown, Taylor with her parents at church functions, a younger Taylor with a gap-toothed smile. A life well-documented, well-loved.
“Have a seat,” Reverend Bradshaw gestured to an armchair across from the couch. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?”
“I’m good, thank you,” Brooks replied, settling into the chair. He noted how the reverend chose the couch, maintaining a careful distance between them.
For a moment, neither man spoke. The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner filled the silence, each second stretching like an hour.
Finally, Reverend Bradshaw leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “I assume this isn’t asocial call.”
“No, sir,” Brooks confirmed, meeting the older man’s gaze directly. “It’s about Taylor. About us.”
“And you felt the need to come here today because...?”
Brooks appreciated the direct approach. It was something he understood, no games, no pretense, just cutting to the heart of the matter.
“Because Taylor’s pregnant,” he said, his voice steady despite the weight of the words. “We’re having a baby. And it’s not how either of us planned things, but it’s happening. And before we tell anyone else, I wanted to speak with you.”
“I see.” His voice had cooled several degrees. “And why did you think I needed to hear this from you, rather than my daughter?”
Brooks leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Because I respect what you mean to Taylor. Because I know this isn’t the way she would have wanted things to happen. And because I wanted you to know, man to man, that I’m not going anywhere.”
“Is that right?” The reverend’s tone held a challenge. “And how am I supposed to believe that, when my daughter is barely divorced, and you’ve already gotten her pregnant?”
The accusation stung, but Brooks kept his composure. He hadn’t come here for a fight.
“I understand your concern,” he said carefully. “This isn’t what either of us planned. But I love your daughter. I have for longer than either of us realized. And this baby growing inside of her means that it’s important that we’re on the same page. I need her healthy and happy.”
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