Page 64 of That Time in Venice
Chapter23
“Idon’t wantto talk to Grandma,” Brielle said quietly. She sat on the sofa in the den, hands clasped on her lap, body slumped into a miserable littlecurve.
“Whynot?”
Reed crouched before her. He was tired. He hadn’t slept a wink last night for thinking about Anika. Then bright and early this morning, Nanette called to blast him for not letting her speak to hergranddaughter.
Brielle used to love talking to her grandmother and had even memorized the Dallas number so she could call herself. He wanted them to stay in touch, recognizing that her grandmother was a connection to not only her maternal history, but her African-Americanheritage.
“I get sad when I talk to her,” Briellemurmured.
Reed took her hands in his and rubbed his thumb along her little fingers. “I know it makes you sad, but grandma loves you. She wants to talk to you for a few minutes, and you haven’t talked to her in a very long time. She misses you. Don’t youmissher?”
Brielle nodded, and he wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or if she’d simply nodded toappeasehim.
He couldn’t put off Nanette any longer. For a whole month Brielle had said she didn’t want to talk to her, and he’d allowed it. But her grandmother was furious and accused him of not only keeping them apart, but alienating her from her grandbaby. He’d permitted Brielle to dictate whether or not she talked to her grandmother, but that was wrong. A four-year-old child should not make that kind of decision—especially when it meant losing touch with family wholovedher.
“Tell you what, spend a few minutes on the phone. I’ll be nearby—right here in the kitchen where you can see me—and when you get off the phone, if you’re sad, we’ll talk aboutit.Okay?”
She nodded again but didn’t make eyecontact.
“That’s my girl.” Reed kissed her knuckles and lifted to his feet. “Here’s the phone. You remember thenumber?”
Brielle nodded and took the cordless. When she started dialing, he went into the kitchen. From there, he had a clear view to the den because of the modifications made by thedesignteam.
He kept busy making iced tea. Pulling the ingredients from the cabinets, he thought about Anika. What was shedoingnow?
Reed measured the ingredients into a glass pitcher. As he worked, he glanced up to see how Brielle wasdoing.
He’d learned to stop hovering while she talked to her grandmother. The therapist had said to give her space and let her breathe, which hadn’t been easy to do. As her sole parent, he’d been overprotective in the new role of father and mother, but he’d alwaysobliged.
As he stirred the iced tea, he watched his daughter, the phone up to her ear, head and shoulders still bent in a signof…what?
He stopped stirring and really paid attention to her body language. She’d been so excited earlier today when they’d gone to the park. There’d been a sparkle in her brown eyes. Laughter on her lips. The simple, pure joy of childhood as she ran and climbed throughout the playground with theotherkids.
But now, Brielle looked…defeated. She kept her eyes downcast and her gaze planted on some spot onherlap.
Something wasn’t right. She seemed to have a full-on aversion to talking to hergrandmother.
With a knotted stomach, Reed eased the extension from its cradle. He listened to Nanette speaking in her grandmotherlyvoice.
“…and don’t you want to come back to Dallas, to be with Grandma? Grandma misses you, and so does Pop Pop. We all miss you, but your daddy’s not going to let you come back. You’ve got to show him that you’re not happy. You’vegotto—”
“What are youdoing?”
Reed’s voice cracked with the force of a firecracker through the line. He could hardly breathe. His gaze rested on Brielle, and she lifted her head. The look in her eyes—the sadness—tore at him. She shouldn’t know sadness or have to concern herself with pleasing anyone. Her only concern should be which stuffed animal was going to suffer through her choke hold latertonight.
“I said, what are you doing?” he demanded in an even louder voice. Silence greeted the question. “Hang up the phone, Brielle. Right now.” Brielle just stared. “I said hang up thephone.”
She hung up. Her lower lip trembled and her facecrumbled.
Reed muted the phone. “Go to your room, sweetheart. You’re not in trouble. Go upstairs, and I’ll be there in a fewminutes.”
Brielle ran off. He listened to her footsteps hurry down the hallway and climb thestairs.
Reed unmuted the phone. “Care to tell me what the hell you think you’re doing? Is this what your conversations have been about all along? You’ve been turning my daughter against me?” He’d had his suspicions but hadn’t wanted to believe the worst of Nanette, quickly and guiltily casting aside his negativethoughts.
“I haven’t been turning her against you.” The grandmotherly tone was gone, and all that remained was cooldisdain.
