The Good Father

“Anyway, I was thinking...you know the core belief at the Stand is that women who’ve known abuse suffer from a lack of self-confidence, which makes them self-destructive, and that, if you counteract those negative influences with positive ones—actions they can feel, not just words that oftentimes go in one ear and out the other—then they’ll be better equipped to know what it feels like to value themselves.”

Chloe put her cup down. “I value myself, El. You know that.”

“I do.” Ella was eating while she spoke. Because she had to go soon. And because she’d had nothing for dinner but a piece of bread with cheese. “I value you, too,” she added with a grin. “This is delicious!”

Life had a way of turning you on your end if you let it get too serious.

Chloe shrugged. “It’s a simple recipe. But I knew you had to leave early, and I didn’t have a lot of time.”

In her short time in Santa Raquel, Chloe had made braised pork chops that melted in your mouth, a vegetable, rice and tilapia dish that they’d finished off the night she’d prepared it, and a chicken salad that Ella wanted in her freezer at all times. Just in case.

And this morning she had things to discuss. “So the grounds at the Stand are resort style, the pool, the bungalows—all elegant. But the cooking—it’s typical cafeteria stuff. You know, feeding-the-masses type of fare.”

Chloe nodded. “Feeding so many people at once, it can be difficult sometimes to make dishes that everyone will like.”

“But you could do it, couldn’t you? Plan menus and give them recipes that would appeal to the masses, but still be that step above ordinary?”

Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Ella. “You trying to get me to move to the shelter? Surely you don’t think I’m in need of full-time care...”

The question threw Ella. Mostly because it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Jeff was the one who needed help in their situation. They’d gotten Chloe and Cody out in time. Chloe had been strong enough to pack her bags and get in the car.

“The women at the Stand—in large part—are there because they aren’t safe on the outside yet, or because they don’t have any place else to go while they rearrange their lives. You don’t fit either category. They’re starting over. You’re not.”

The look of relief that crossed Chloe’s face startled Ella. Didn’t Chloe trust her to get her back home? Did she think Ella wanted her to leave Jeff permanently?

Or was there more going on?

Filing the questions away, in the interest of time, she said, “I heard Lila say something yesterday to the...woman...I was there with, something about the cooking, and it made me think of you. I thought maybe you’d be glad for a somewhat professional pastime while you’re here, and it would be good for Cody, too, because while you’re working, he could play with the kids in the private day care at the Stand.”

She wanted to give Chloe a sense of herself apart from her family. The woman could own her own restaurant, or run a kitchen in an already established high-end eatery. Maybe, if Chloe were independent, she wouldn’t be as vulnerable to Jeff’s outbursts.

Maybe if she stood up to Jeff, he’d get himself well sooner...

The thought stopped her short. Where in the hell had that come from?

“You really think I could help?” Chloe was saying, and Ella felt ten times sicker, thinking that Jeff’s behavior was in any way Chloe’s doing.

She knew better.

“I already spoke to Lila,” she said now, taking her plate to the sink and rinsing the remainder of her breakfast down the drain. The disposal would have a gourmet breakfast. Something it wouldn’t appreciate at all.

Like Brett hadn’t appreciated having a partner in his corner, loving him above all else, willing to watch his back, to protect his heart...

Pulling a card out of the front flap of her purse, she slung the bag over her shoulder and tossed the card on the table. “Lila’s at the Stand all day today. She said if you’re interested, give her a call.”

With a smile, a hug and a quick goodbye, she was out the door before she made any other stupid mistakes.

Like telling Chloe that seeing Brett again had gotten to her just like her sister-in-law had feared it would. Which was why she hadn’t mentioned the meeting at all.

She was tired.

Out of sorts.

Damn Brett.

* * *

BRETT CANCELED HIS golf game Saturday morning. He wasn’t a huge fan of the sport, but preferred the course to boardrooms when the same business could be accomplished either place.

Instead, he pulled on jeans, a long-sleeved denim shirt, and got his Harley out of the garage. He didn’t ride much anymore. But he always kept the thing serviced. There were just some times a guy had to be a guy.

This was one of them.

The three-and-a-half-hour trip to Palm Desert was a godsend. Even with the damned helmet clamped to his head. He was wired for sound and played old Eagles tunes as he sped across the desert. The rumble of the machine between his thighs was like a shot of pure adrenaline. It was the first long ride he’d taken since the divorce.

Clearly time to rectify that lapse.

He didn’t call first. Wasn’t sure why; he just didn’t. Still, Jeff was at home, mowing the grass, when Brett roared up the quiet street where his best friend’s five-bedroom house stood on more than an acre of crisply manicured lawn.

“Brett? By God, man, what the hell are you doing here?” Hopping off his zero-turn mower, Jeff jaunted toward Brett, his hand extended.

They shook hands, and then, still gripping Brett’s hand, Jeff pulled him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said. “Man, you look great!”

“So do you.” Feeling a bit choked up, when he rarely felt any emotion at all, Brett stepped back. But he couldn’t do anything about the grin that was spreading across his face. “It’s been too long, man,” he said.

Jeff might be married to a great cook, but he was still in shape.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Jeff was grinning, too. Giving Brett the up and down. “And on your bike. I figured you sold that. Ella said you offered it to her in the divorce.”

Because he’d offered her everything.

She’d refused to take any of it. His money. His help. His prized possessions.

“Nope.”

“You still ride much?” Jeff was circling the bike now. They’d taken a few trips together. A long time ago.

“No, but I’m thinking about changing that. You got a bike?”

Jeff sold his bike when Cody was born. He’d put the money toward a backyard pool and hot tub and insisted on showing Brett that and then the rest of the house he’d bought when he’d made his first big stock deal, telling Brett that Chloe and Cody were gone that afternoon.

Pulling a couple beers from the fridge, he handed one to Brett and led the way back outside, to the table and chairs on the paver patio by a built-in fireplace and rock water feature.

The things, the beauty of Jeff’s home, weren’t anything Brett couldn’t have himself. The swing set, playhouse and sandbox—all made with matching wood—caught his attention. He didn’t realize he was staring until Jeff said, “Cody and Chloe...they aren’t just gone for the afternoon.”

Brett had already decided how he was going to play this. At least until he knew more. “I know,” he said, meeting his friend’s gaze head-on. “I ran into Ella in town. You knew she moved to Santa Raquel, right?”

“To take that job, yes, I did, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Brett. The way she just moved right in on you. I swear, I didn’t even know about it until she was already moving in to her place. I’d have advised her against accepting the position if I’d known in time.”

Brett would have found it odd that Ella hadn’t asked Jeff’s opinion if it wasn’t for what he already knew about Ella’s decision-making process regarding her move.

“Anyway, she told me that you’d called and told her that Chloe had left. She asked me to look in on you, Jeff. She’s worried about you.”

“She’s called a couple times since then. I didn’t pick up. She and Chloe...they’re close...and I don’t want to put her in the middle of this.”

Brett couldn’t tell if Jeff had any idea where Chloe was or not. But he’d get back to that.

“So what is...this? Why’d she leave you, man? Chloe’s nuts about you.” Or she had been the last time Brett had seen them together. Which would have been before the divorce. More than four years ago. Only a couple years after Jeff and Chloe had married.

Jeff waved a hand in the air, shaking his head. “We can talk about my problems later. For now, tell me why you’re here. I mean, I thought you weren’t coming around anymore because of Ella, but you say you ran into her. Dare I hope that this visit means what I think it means?”

Brett’s foot fell off his knee with a thud. He’d been so fired up to help his friend, coming up with the words he’d say to protect Ella’s secret, while proving to her that she was wrong about Jeff, that he’d missed the other side of this story.

“You and Ella getting back together?” Jeff asked, lifting his beer can in a toast before sipping. How a guy could drink through a grin plastered from one side of his face to the other, Brett didn’t know, but Jeff managed it.

“No!” Brett’s response was emphatic. Strong. Because it had to be. “No way, man. Don’t even go there. She just asked me to look in on you. She’s worried. Like I said.”

Jeff nodded. Still grinning. “Well, whatever, I’m sure as hell glad you’re here. I’ve missed you, man.”

Brett had missed Jeff, too. Far more than he’d allowed himself to realize.

So when Jeff asked if he could stick around, grill some steaks, maybe shoot some pool later, offering him the bed in the guest room, Brett agreed to stay.

Not for Ella. Or Chloe.

But because, for the first time in years, he felt as if he’d come home.

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