“Couldn’t agree more, but I need to play their game.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m not a twenty-something guy, obviously, and I happened to think that joke was epic,” she said.
His ears perked. “You did? That bit was two years ago. I didn’t think you’d seen it.”
Her voice turned flirty. “I might have caught up on some of your greatest hits recently. You’ve always cracked me up.”
Pride suffused him. He’d made millions laugh, but she was the one whose laugher he craved the most. “That’s awesome. I love that you have a dirty sense of humor.”
“Like a twenty-something guy,” she said. “Though, I’m especially glad that it’s just a joke. Because you’d look silly with a Mohawk down there.”
A grin spread across his face. “See? I’m telling you. You can’t shave your own balls or you wind up with a comb-over or a Mr. T style ’do, and neither one is attractive,” he said, and there it was—the sweet sound of her laughing once more. “So what about you? Did you spend the day getting pampered at the Luxe?”
She sighed, and in that wistful sound he sensed her no before she even said it. “I really wanted to, but Ryan called, and I had to see him, because…” She stopped to take another breath. “We need to visit my mom at the end of the month.”
He sat up straight, pressed the phone more firmly to his ear as if that would bring him closer to her. He felt like a schmuck for having bitched about something as small as whether the neighborhood association liked him. “Tell me more.”
* * *
She gave Brent the details as she paced around her kitchen table, her edginess returning.
“Why do you think she saw a lawyer?”
“I have no idea. Brent, she’s crazy. Prison made her crazy,” she said, as she stopped at the fridge and found an open bottle of chardonnay.
“I can’t even imagine. It must be awful.”
She poured half a glass. “It’s gotten worse in the last few years. She wasn’t like this before, though, when I first knew you. She was more together. She’s become more...” Her voice trailed off as she struggled for the words to describe her mother. Dora had been a passionate and desperate woman when Shannon was younger, desperate to achieve more than the little she’d had. Once she was locked up, all that passion churned into something else—an anxious, dangerous determination, a rattled desire for freedom.
Shannon picked up her wine and took a sip. “More unstable, but obsessive too. She’s always trying to get people to listen to her. I bet she’s contacting the Innocence Project. She’d do that. She’d spend her time getting up to speed on prisoner rights and wrongful convictions. She’s convinced she’s not supposed to be behind bars.”
“Have you ever thought she shouldn’t be?” he asked, a softness to his tone. She could tell he wasn’t suggesting Dora was innocent, as Ryan often did. He was simply asking what she believed.
“The evidence against her is pretty compelling. I know the truth. I’m sure of it, but she’s still my mom, and she’s still in prison,” she said, heading to her yellow couch, the kind of bright yellow that made the room feel cheery, in contrast to Shannon’s mood right now. “But I’ll go anyway. Ryan needs me. He’s always been caught up in her orbit. I need to go with him.”
“I’ll go with you if you want.”
His words surprised her. She hadn’t been expecting that. No one had ever offered to be a part of this side of her life. Then again, she’d never gotten close enough to anyone to let him or her in this far. “What?” she asked, incredulous.
“I’ll go with you,” he said, again, making it sound so simple. “If you want me to. I know it can’t be easy. Let me be there for you.”
Her mood switched in an instant, as she shrugged off the dark and heavy cloak of the day. “You’re amazing. It’s five hours away though.”
He laughed. “I’m not afraid of a little car time. Especially if it means I can be with you.”
“You can’t go in though, to see her. Only pre-approved visitors like family and friends she knew before she was in prison are allowed.”
“I’m not going to see her. I’m going to be there for you. I’ll drive you. I’ll wait for you in the parking lot or waiting room or wherever. Wait—do they even have waiting rooms in prison?”
She chuckled lightly. Only Brent could make her laugh about this. “Oddly enough, they do,” she said, then let her mind imagine how much better it would be to have him waiting for her when she was done. “Brent,” she said, speaking softly as she settled into the couch, “why do you do so much for me?”
“Why do I do so much for you?” he repeated, as if her words didn’t make sense. “What do you mean?”
“Does it ever bother you that you’ve had such a normal life and I have this... crazy one? I have so much baggage, and you have none.”
“Baggage doesn’t scare me.”
“It doesn’t bother you that my family is so messed up?” she asked, because it bugged her. “It’s so uneven between us. I mean, you just offered to take me to visit my mother in prison, who’s behind bars for murdering my father for money. Meanwhile, you bake pumpkin pie for your parents every year at Thanksgiving. What could I possibly ever do for you?”
He scoffed loudly. “You have no idea what you do for me.”
“Then tell me. I can’t even imagine what I could ever do that would compare.”
“First of all, it doesn’t have to compare. You send me a selfie of us and I’m fucking ecstatic,” he said, and his voice was filled with sincerity that made her heart beat faster. He was the easiest person to please, and she loved that about him. “Think of me like a cactus. I don’t require much. A little water, some sun, I’m good.”
“I’ve often thought of you as my sunflower, but cactus works too,” she said, as a smile spread across her face. “I guess that means I’m a hibiscus. They need a ton of water.”
“That’s why we’re right for each other,” he said, and she wished she were with him right now, to see his face, to touch his cheek, to kiss those lips that said words that made her feel so much joy.
“But sometimes I worry that I don’t have enough to give,” she said, voicing her deepest concerns. That no matter what, she would always be the one needing him more than he ever needed her. “That all I’m doing is taking because I need so much. That you’ll resent me.”
“Don’t you realize? I want to give what I have to you. I’m lucky. I know that. I have an overflow of luck, happiness, all that stuff. And yeah, I don’t have family issues, but what I have instead is the ability to be by your side as you deal with yours.”
Her heart leapt. It twirled, it skipped, it tried to jump across the country and find him in New York City. “What can I give you though?” Her voice rose with worry. She didn’t want to lose him again, and she feared that all this crap in her life would be too much. Especially since there was more to come. More confessions, more secrets still to be shared.
“All I want is you. Give me you,” he said, and his words warmed her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair.
Later. She’d deal with the rest later. “You can have me.”
“Good. Now tell me what you’re up to right now. Right this second. I want to picture you.”
She carved out a deeper spot in her living room couch, making herself comfortable, not wanting the conversation with him to end. “Just lying here on my couch, glass of white wine in my hand, talking to the most handsome man I’ve ever known,” she said, taking a swallow of the chardonnay, then setting down the glass on the coffee table.
“Oh yeah? Sounds like you’ve got it bad for this guy.”
Shannon turned on her side, perhaps subconsciously shifting into an even sexier pose, picturing Brent’s eyes roaming her body as if he were there, his gaze holding her captive. “I tried to shut him out, but it was impossible. He’s pretty much the cat’s meow.”