Page 80 of Brewer Family Collection, Part 1

Chloe

“ I have a bad feeling, Mimi.”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” She removes her glasses and sets them next to her crossword on the table beside the recliner. “You’ve acted strangely all day.”

A thunderbolt strikes overhead, sending a rumble through Mimi’s house.

I have acted out of sorts all day. I’ve been out of sorts all day .

I’ve avoided this conversation with my grandmother in hopes that Jason will be back so we can get back on the same page.

Today was just too much for both of us. Jason had Renn to take care of and his father’s situation on his mind.

I was thrown for a loop hearing him say I love you and watching him hold Arlo …

and feeling like my world just shifted upside down.

I was caught off guard and didn’t mean to make Jason think I didn’t love him back. But I know that’s what he’s thinking … I just hope he didn’t hang up on me a few hours ago.

Things are a mess and it’s my fault.

“What’s wrong, Chloe?” she asks.

I can’t tell her that Jason just told me he loves me. That would sound the alarm. She’ll wonder why he’s just telling me now, and I’ll have to explain everything. I’m trying to limit drama today, not add a whole mountain of it.

“Nothing, really,” I say, folding my arms over my stomach. “We just had our first disagreement. And now he’s not here, and the weather’s just shitty. I wish Jason were home.”

“When should he return?”

I shrug. “I think the flight is like two hours or so. I don’t know how far he was from the airport in Florida. He should be getting back soon.”

My stomach knots at the truth that I don’t share. He should’ve been back by now .

I tried calling him several times, but it went straight to voicemail. I’m sure his phone’s probably dead because he spent all night in the hospital. Still, I hate not being able to hear his voice. I hate feeling so disconnected from him.

The situation eats me up inside. The more time that passes, the more panicked I get. I need to talk about it and have someone assure me this will be okay.

“Meems, I might’ve screwed up today.”

“Oh?”

I shift around on the sofa. “I’ve sort of avoided telling Jason that I love him.”

Her brows fly to the ceiling.

“I know it’s nuts,” I say. “But he seems to understand and didn’t say it to me. Until today.”

“And what happened today?”

Tears fill my eyes, and pain floods my chest. “I don’t really know. We were at the hospital, and Jason was holding Arlo. And I felt this deep shift inside me. I don’t know where it came from, and it didn’t dissipate through the day. If anything, it’s gotten worse.”

“What kind of a shift, sweetheart?”

“I’ve never really wanted kids,” I say. “I never really wanted to be married, either. And now I’m married, and I think I want kids, but I’m not sure, and I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

She grins. “Why didn’t you want to get married, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know.” I sniffle. “I told myself that men always screwed up my life—and that’s true. They did. But now that I’m on this side of the fence, I think I was scared that I’d pick the wrong guy.”

Her nod is telling, as if she already understands what I might not.

We sit quietly and listen to the storm. The thunder’s loud, cracking like gunshots left and right, and lightning flashes light into the night sky like fireworks. It would be a great night to lie in bed and cuddle.

Instead, I’m wondering where my husband is and if he’s cross with me.

“I’m going to take the blame for this one,” she says, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?”

She rocks back and forth in her chair. “I should’ve left your grandfather long before he died.

Maybe if I had, your mother would’ve had the strength to avoid your father like the plague.

” She winks. “But I’m glad she didn’t because we got you, the greatest thing—besides that golf cart—that ever happened to me. ”

I snort. This woman .

“I set a bad example,” she says plainly.

“I’ve carried that around with me for most of my life.

I was blinded by what I thought was right, and I cared too much about what was socially acceptable.

I should’ve said screw it all and did what I wanted—and that was to get out of an unhealthy relationship. ”

“Oh, Meems.”

She stops rocking. “But you aren’t like your mom and me, little girl. You’re strong. You’re the best of us. You learned from our mistakes and did better. You demanded better for yourself.”

I can barely see her through the tears fogging my eyes.

“If I had seen the way love was shown to women the way you’ve seen it, I would’ve been scared of it, too. I wish I would’ve been leerier of it and not just accepted the first man to tell me he loved me. We’d all have been better off.”

“That’s the thing,” I say. “I’ve always felt that if someone loves you, it gives them a chance to come into your life like a wrecking ball. I didn’t want to give up my autonomy. I didn’t want to feel stuck or broken like you and Mom. It was better to be alone.”

She smiles. “It was. But is it now?”

“Of course not.” I laugh softly. “But today, I held baby Arlo, and I felt myself maybe wanting kids. And I’m afraid I’m losing who I am. That or I’m having a super early midlife crisis.”

“Or you could just have finally found a soft landing pad and, for the first time, feel safe enough to allow yourself to wish for a husband and babies.”

“… for the first time, feel safe enough …”

That’s it. There’s the truth.

“You don’t have to be scared of love, Chloe,” Mimi says. “But you better damn well fight for it when you find it because it doesn’t come around often.”

My spirits rise as a set of headlights drift across the window. I spring to my feet, ready to throw myself around Jason’s neck and tell him a million times that I love him.

Because I do.

I’ve probably loved him for a long time. I was just too scared to accept it.

“It looks like he’s home,” Mimi says as footsteps splash outside and a knock raps against the door. “Come in.”

“Hey, Jason.” I flinch. “Gannon?”

His face is pale, and he’s dripping wet. Two more sets of headlights shine up the driveway.

My heart stalls as a chill races down my spine. I can’t.

Please, please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me ask …

Car doors shut in the distance. Footfalls pound against the pavement. Tate and Ripley stand on either side of Gannon looking as ill as their brother.

I swallow. Hard.

“What …” I can’t get the words out. “Why are you?—?”

“Chloe, there’s been an accident …”