Every Way (Brush of Love 4)

“Mother, stop it,” Bryan said.

“And if you think for one second that you are going to block me out of my grandchild’s life, you are sorely mistaken. I will be watching you, Hailey. And if you misstep even once, I will intervene on behalf of that child,” Dorothy said.

“Intervene? I’m not an abusive woman like you have turned out to be,” I said. “The distance you’ve created is of your own doing because instead of getting help for your anger, you take it out on those around you. You expect everyone to fall at your feet because you have money, and you’re pissed that I don’t. If there is anyone I don’t want my child growing up around, it’s you. With your anger and your spitefulness and your holier-than-thou attitude, I would rather raise my child in the bowels of hell than have our baby turn out like you.”

I was on my feet and panting in anger. I’d told Bryan this was going to happen. I’d warned Bryan she was going to come for us again. She was getting relentless with what she was doing. And Bryan would try to come to her aid just because she popped by the house a few times to try and help me out ‘when she could.’ She thought that her few good deeds could erase the disgusting and horrible words she spewed whenever we were sitting at her dinner table.

But this was my child, and this was about my child's well-being. And if being around an influence like Dorothy was going to make my child turn out like her, I would fight whatever fights were necessary to keep them away.

For good, if that was what it came down to.

“Okay. Everyone just calm down,” Michael said. “We’re here to have a nice family dinner and see how Hailey is doing. Hailey, how is your pregnancy going?”

“It’s shit,” I said.

Everyone fell silent as Dorothy and I stared at one another. I did not want to be here another second. I had lost my appetite, I was exhausted, I still had paint sitting on the back of my neck that I could feel taunting me, and I was ready to go home. I wanted to take a warm bath, lie in bed, dream about all of the wonderful artwork I could create that would help to alleviate my raging emotions, and go through more applications for the person I had to hire. My hips ached, I could feel my boobs chafing again, and the heartburn that I knew would plague me all night was rising up the back of my throat.

Bryan’s hand slipping into mine pulled me from the staring contest I was having with his mother. I looked over at him, and his dazzling eyes had a calming effect on me. I stepped out from in front of my chair and leaned into him, his hands massaging my shoulders as he held me close. He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead as I sighed into his chest, my body wanting him to hold me closer than my stomach would allow.

I couldn’t even hug Bryan properly when I needed him the most.

“We’re leaving,” Bryan said.

“Son, just sit down. I really want to know how you guys are doing. We haven’t even talked about the tour yet,” Michael said.

“You’re more than welcome to come to the house and talk anytime, Dad. You know this. Our house is as open to you guys as your house is supposed to be to us,” Bryan said.

“Don’t you want them to stay, Dorothy?” Michael asked. “Don’t you want to hear about their travels?”

But Dorothy stayed silent, sitting in her chair and pouting like a four-year-old.

“Michael, I’d love to talk with you anytime about the European tour. I’d love to tell you all about Barcelona. It was my favorite stop,” I said.

“Maybe I could come over this weekend. I’ll bring decaf coffee,” Michael said.

“That stuff tastes like diesel fuel,” I said, grinning. “Milkshakes?”

“Milkshakes it is,” Michael said.

“And mother?” Bryan asked.

Dorothy panned her gaze over to her son, her eyes glazed over and vacant. In another world and at another time, I would have taken pity on her. I knew she was grieving. I knew she was still processing what happened with John. The stuff that Michael uncovered when he was pulling the strings he’d pulled were nothing short of blatantly disgusting. Even as I wasn’t a mother yet, I could never imagine the pain of losing a child, and I hoped I never had to. But her words and her tone and the way she addressed me were inexcusable, grieving or not.

“Until you can apologize sincerely to Hailey, we won’t be back, and you won’t be welcome,” Bryan said.

“I will not apologize when I have done nothing wrong. Hailey is actively isolating this family from anything having to do with that child, and you can’t even see it because you’re so blinded by whatever love you think you have for her. But you will see your mistake, sweetheart. I just hope it isn’t beyond repair by that point,” Dorothy said.

Bryan took my hand and led me toward the door as Michael got out of his seat. I couldn’t believe what Dorothy had just said. I thought the anger and animosity were gone. I thought all of this was put behind us. I thought the distance we?

?d put between all of us with this tour would’ve helped everyone to screw their heads on straight, but it only seemed like Dorothy had lost hers.

Michael strode over to us and helped me get my coat on, even though it was the beginning of summer. Whenever I became angry, especially now, my body would run cold. I was shivering as Michael helped me with my coat, and he pulled me in for a hug before he relinquished me into the night.

“I’ll see you soon, Hailey. Gather up all those stories for me and have them at the ready. Barcelona is somewhere I have yet to travel,” Michael said.

“I’ll be ready and waiting,” I said, grinning.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For Dorothy and what she said.”