Page 44 of The Brooklyn Way

Whoever said that it was the thought that counted must’ve been looking in my window. Cameron’s offer to support me during my father’s heavenly birthday celebration meant everything to me. I could feel that the wall I tried to put up around my heart was crumbling fast.

It was dumb for me to fall for Cameron for so many reasons. There was the fact that we’d only known each other for four weeks. Our relationship was basically built on sex. I recently ended a long-term relationship. We didn’t live in the same time-zone, let alone town. He was a professional basketball player who could have practically any woman he wanted. He was only messing around with me because it was a small town and the pickings were slim. Plus, I was hella local. I lived on his freaking property. I was convenient coochie.

I needed to do a better job of keeping my emotions under control.

The temperature in Fenwick was hot, but it was hotter inside of Big Red’s house than it was outside. She and my aunts were preparing the food for the celebratory dinner. Every burner on the stove was in use, as well as the oven. I had come out to the front porch to see if I could catch a breeze, but that was in vain. There was no breeze to be caught. The stillness of the air made me miss Jackson Island more than I already was. I missed the cool mist that would rise from the ocean, bringing with it oxygen-stealing humidity, but also a slight coolness.

My phone vibrated. I glanced at the screen. In my phone were hundreds of requests from people asking not only that I take them on as clients, but also that I bring my considerable talent back to social media.

They commented on the pictures of the cotillion and debutante dresses I made. They commented on the bright and colorful wardrobe of summer dresses that I had sewn for myself. They commented on the swimwear I created for myself, Carrington, and Cameron. But mostly, they commented on Cameron. On how cute we look together. On what a good job I’d done on his swim trunks. On how he was such a humongous step up from Vince’s unworthy ass.

Whenever I replied to a comment, I did so with nothing but positivity, diplomacy, and promises to consider taking on clients in the fall. I was almost positive that once I finished Carrington’s wedding gown, my “embarrassed, hiding girl” era would come to an end. I missed sewing. I missed clients. I missed social media. I was almost ready to put myself out there again.

Once I responded to all my social media comments, I sent a text to Cameron. I arrived in Kentucky the day before and settled in at my grandparents’ home. They put me in the same bedroom that I had after I lost my parents. I was away at college when they passed, but when I needed to leave campus for breaks and holidays, I had come to my grandparents’ home and stayed in the room they set up for me. But even though the bed was familiar, I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. I missed pressing up against Cameron. I missed the feel of his skin against mine-- the feel of his mouth against mine. If I was honest with myself, I also missed the feel of his luxury mattress and luxury bed linens. I definitely wanted to honor my daddy, but at the same time I couldn’t wait to get home.

Dinner was served at precisely seven o’clock. The food was set up buffet style. Because my daddy was a summer baby, born on July 9th, Big Red served summer food. There was barbecue, baked beans, potato salad, deviled eggs, macaroni salad, grilled corn, fried fish, hush puppies, cheese grits and a huge green salad. Personally, I was thankful not to have to eat a Thanksgiving style meal in the heat.

While I was dishing potato salad onto one of my uncle’s plates, a younger cousin came calling for me.

“Brooklyn! Brooklyn!”

I set down the spoon and met the child at the entrance of the kitchen. “I’m Brooklyn. What’s wrong, baby?”

The seven-year-old son of one of my cousins looked up at me. “There’s some man at the fence asking about you.”

“Some man at the fence?” I repeated his words with a confused frown on my face. “Who is it?”

He shrugged his slim shoulders. “I don’t know. My uncle, Logan, told me to come in here and get you.”

“Okay.” I let him go on toward the kitchen. I was sure he was ready to get a plate. Kids were low in the hierarchy, so they ate last. I wasn’t going to hold him up any longer.

I went out the front door careful to remember to pull it shut so I wouldn’t let my grandparents’ “good air” out and stared out at the fence. My heart was beating a little sporadically because I couldn’t help but wonder if Cameron had ignored my pleas and decided to show up in Fenwick after all. But the person standing at the fence wasn’t anywhere near as tall as Cameron. The person standing at the fence wasn’t Cameron.

“Vince?” The word was a whisper spoken with eyes bugged out, disbelief in my tone and my hand on my chest. “What the fuck?”

As I started down the stairs, he started up the walkway.

He was wearing a beige short-sleeved button-up with a cream-colored sleeveless cashmere vest, beige dress slacks, and beige driving loafers. And he looked like a lame. He literally looked like a fucking goofy. I wanted to laugh because it was hilarious to me how once you stopped feeling a dude, you could see him for who he really was. The rose-colored glasses were off, and I could see Vince. And what I saw wasn’t appealing.

“Hey, Brooklyn.” He gave me a timid smile.

I stopped on the middle step and returned his smile with a frown. My head tilted to the side as my eyebrows came together, forming a line in the center of my forehead. “What are you doing here?”

His little smile faltered, and he stopped walking toward me. “I looked at the calendar last weekend and realized that your dad’s birthday was coming up. I remembered how this day affects you.”

My arms went across my chest as I sat back on my right hip. “Oh did you now? You remembered that, huh?”

He started walking again and the smile returned. This time it was bigger. “I did. I think about you all of the time, Brookie. I—”

My eyebrows flew into my hairline. “Do not call me that. Do not call me that!” I met him in the walkway. “Does Kelly know you’re here? Does she know that you think about me all the time?” I mocked him in a goofy-sounding tone.

“Kelly and I have decided to take a step back to get to know each other a little better. We kinda rushed into a relationship. There are some things we need to work out between us.”

I waved my hand dismissively. “I don’t care about all that, Vince. I asked if she knows you’re here. In Fenwick, at my grandparents’ house.”

“And I’m telling you that whether she knows or not is irrelevant. I came here because I know being here, celebrating your dad’s birthday is hard on you.”

I narrowed my eyes and watched him unflinchingly. “You should go back to Londynville. You shouldn’t be here.” I turned and headed back up the stairs. Thankfully, he didn’t follow.

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