Right Brother (20 page)

“That woman ruined Eric's life.”

“Bullshit. Eric ruined Eric's life. With a strong assist from you.”

His mother stood abruptly.

Franklin's head snapped around. “Where the hell do you think you're going?”

“To see Ashley.”

 

“We need to talk,” Jennifer said firmly.

Ashley hadn't slept long. Jennifer had given her ice chips, and with the nurse's help Ashley had used the bedpan—sounding nearly like herself when she declared it “gross.”

So, once her daughter was settled again, the covers smoothed and her face relaxed, Jennifer felt it was time.

“I can't help how I feel. I just don't like him.” Ashley sniffled.
“I know Dad isn't really coming back. And another guy would be okay. It's not like I've ever objected to any other guy.”

That wasn't true. Ashley had heartily disliked Zeke for the short time when a few misguided people—basically Ashley and Darcie—had thought he was interested in Jennifer instead of desperately in love with Darcie.

“We can discuss Trent later. What I want to talk to you about first is what happened today. And the consequences of your actions,” she said firmly. “Darcie's going to be here later to ask questions about what happened, and she's going to be here as a police officer. You will tell her everything she wants to know. With full details and absolute honesty.”

“But—”

“No buts. And a little later, you and I are going to have a discussion about what you did today—the decisions you made—and the consequences that will follow those decisions.”

Jennifer thought she heard a faint noise from behind her, like the door opening. But no one came in, and she didn't take her gaze from her daughter.

Ashley's eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered. “If it means it's just you and me like it used to be, I don't care what the consequences are. I don't want him around anymore.”

“Ashley, Trent cares about you. It would be a major change in our lives, and it would be different. But he's a good man. Such a…” How did she tell her daughter that he was a man unlike her father, that Trent was a man she could trust? “Such a good man. Give it time.”

“Time won't change that he just gets in the way. I've missed you so much, Mom,” she sobbed.

Jennifer's head screamed at her that Ashley had been acting out before Trent came into their lives. That her daughter had pulled away from her, not the other way around.

But her heart and her arms and her throat and her eyes all
ached with the pain her daughter was experiencing. So that she felt a pain that wasn't merely reflected, but was amplified, a pain far more acute than she would have felt on her own behalf.

Wasn't that what motherhood was about? Feeling your child's pain, and doing whatever was necessary to stop it?

“Oh, Ashley…” She hitched her hip onto the bed and gently held her daughter's head to her breast. “Honey, if you feel so—”

The door opened wide suddenly. Ashley sat up, out of Jennifer's hold.

“Grams! What are you doing here?”

Ella Stenner advanced into the room. A smile on her lips, worry in her eyes as she surveyed her granddaughter.

Jennifer got off the bed and went to the window.

She would never interfere with Ashley's connection with her paternal grandparents, but she would never understand it, either.

“What matters is how you are, sweet girl.”

Ashley groaned and her voice sounded tear-clogged. “It was so awful, Grams.”

“I'm sure it was. Especially when you expected to be having such a good time.”

Jennifer heard the words in Ella's usual placid tones, ran them back through her head, and still came to the same conclusion. She was criticizing Ashley.

Ashley must have felt the same shock, because all she got out was, “Uh, I…”

“I'm so glad you have not been permanently hurt, my dear. And I hope to visit with you more later. But right now, I would like to speak with your mother.” Jennifer turned from the window. Ella held Ashley's hand but she was looking at her. “If you don't mind?” she added.

“Ashley might—”

“She can ring for the nurse if she needs anything, can't
you, dear? Yes, see. The buzzer is right there. It is important, Jennifer.”

Jennifer wasn't sure if it was the novelty of Ella being forceful and determined or a craven desire to avoid committing to Ashley that she would cut Trent from their lives, but she found herself following Trent's mother into the unoccupied room designated as a chapel and taking the chair beside her.

“Did you know that Trent came here to Drago because of me? He thought it would please me if he could form a better relationship with his father. Ever since my heart attack this winter, he has been divided between being the man he is, and trying to forge some truce with Franklin. All because he believes that is what I want.”

Now it made sense. He'd come to please his mother, not his father.

Trent's mother continued, “My greatest joy in life is also my greatest sorrow. And both are Trent. Because he is a good man, and because he had to become a good man on his own.”

Each of Ella's words pierced Jennifer like a thorn. A thorn carrying a peculiar poison that made her body unable to move while her mind raced.

“I have many regrets in my life, Jennifer. That is one. Or, rather, it is part of perhaps the largest one that I carry. The regret of years of watching in silence as my elder son followed the path of his father.”

She studied Jennifer, then gave a small nod, as if satisfied.

“Do not misunderstand. I love Eric, because you do love your children, even if they are jerks. I suppose, at some level I even still love Franklin, though he also is a jerk.”

Jennifer felt her mouth gape. She fought sluggish muscles to close it.

“But that is my problem now, not yours any longer.” Ella patted her hand in seeming approval. “What I want to say now
is that Trent is not at all like his father or brother. And although I had little to do with making him the man he is, I want more than anything for him to be happy.”

She looked directly at Jennifer, and Jennifer could do nothing but look back. It was as if the older woman willed her words into Jennifer's mind as much as she spoke them.

“But I know that a mother's wishes can't simply make a child happy. And I know I have no right to talk to you of your relationship with Trent. But I feel I do have the right to say something else. Something very important. Don't make the mistakes that I made as a mother, Jennifer. I let Eric manipulate me—play me, I think you young people say—and it hurt us all. It is hard to know whether it hurt him more or Trent, but only Trent had the strength to overcome it. I've had a great many years to think about what I did, and why I did it. I am ashamed to say that I think the primary reason was that I wanted my husband to like me.”

She gave a pained smile. “A sad admission. But after my heart attack I finally began to take stock of my choices in life. I did not do all that I could have to help Eric become a good man because I needed my husband's approval. Approval I never gained anyway.”

A quake seemed to rumble through Jennifer from the core of her being. A quake that echoed with voices. Ella's, Darcie's, even Jennifer's own. But the voice that came through most clearly was Trent's.

You said what was most important was whether Ashley knew it. But that's not true, Jen. Here, Jennifer. This is where you need approval from. The only place you need it from.

Maybe it wasn't poison that the pricks of Ella's words carried into Jennifer's system. Maybe it was medicine. Just the right medicine.

“Don't let Ashley play you the way I let Eric play me. It will only harm her, and that will break your heart in the end. Living your life, welcoming Trent's love, are the best examples you can give Ashley,” she said. “Now I'm going to leave you here to think about what I've said.”

She rose, hesitated a moment, then stroked Jennifer's hair once.

 

His mother's departure from the waiting room had left silence.

His father's silence had seethed with words unspoken—or in Franklin's case, unshouted.

Trent's silence had stemmed from having nothing to say to the man. And much to think about.

Giving control of what happened between them to Jennifer was the hardest thing he'd ever done. He was the man who looked ahead, who planned, who anticipated. Now he couldn't do any of those things. Because everything was in Jennifer's hands.

He had no idea what shape his life would take, what future his heart had. All out of his hands, and into hers.

Yes, the hardest thing he'd ever done, and the easiest decision to make.

Because it's what she needed. She needed to know that she was in charge. Of herself. Of their future.

If she chose to be with him, she needed to know she hadn't acted in response to what someone else expected of her. Hell, if she wanted a life with him, she would have to ignore his parent's vociferous disapproval, along with her daughter's and probably a fair amount of talk in town.

He swore to himself. How could he ask that of her? How could he make her overcome all that by herself, along with the past and the undeniably sticky issue of convoluted family ties? What an idiot—

“Where have you been?” His father's demand broke the silence.

Trent saw his mother had returned.

“I went to Ashley's room, then went with Jennifer to the chapel—” his father snorted in disgust, but his mother continued smoothly “—and then to the cafeteria.”

“Great, just great. We'll don't just stand there, give me my coffee.”

“It's tea.”

“Tea? You know I don't like tea.”

“Yes, I do know that. This is for me.”

“What?” Franklin blinked, as if he had just noticed his wife's calm. “What's gotten into you?”

“I had a very interesting discussion with Jennifer.”

“What could that woman have to say that could possibly be interesting. She ruined Eric's life. She's not a fit mother. She's—”

In the instant before the next word, several things happened.

Trent opened his mouth to let the hot words steaming through his brain out. But he spotted Jennifer just outside the doorway, where his parents couldn't see her. He thought her lips curved ever so slightly up, even though she had to be able to hear Franklin's indictment.

His mother clunked down the cup and stood.

Franklin's next word remained unspoken as he gawked at his wife.

“Shove it, Franklin,” Ella Stenner snapped.

Trent's gaze whipped around to his mother.

“What did you say?” Franklin demanded.

“I said shove it. What would you know about being a fit parent? You gave Eric too much and Trent too little. You haven't been much in the way of a husband, either. I don't know why I was so worried about losing you.”

She looked at Trent, then toward the doorway, where Jennifer had entered. For some reason Jen didn't look as poleaxed as Trent felt.

“You both should hear this. Your father has been siphoning money from the dealership to send to Eric.”

“Ella!”

“It's an account he set up with a crony at the bank before he retired. I don't know if it's illegal, but I do know it was done without your knowledge and it's underhanded. Get your accountant to look into it.” She turned to her husband. “I've told the children what they need to know. I think the rest of this should be between us, Franklin.”

As if she'd been waiting for that cue, Jennifer walked to Trent, took his hand, and started leading him out.

“Jen—?”

She kept going. He could have held her back. Easily. But that was one thing he never wanted to do to Jen, hold her back.

As he followed, Trent heard his father demand, but not with his usual bluster, “What do you think you're doing?”

And his mother's reply, “Sit down, Franklin. It's my turn to talk. I figure you owe me about forty years.”

 

Wordlessly, Jennifer led Trent down the hallway. Acutely aware of how much could be communicated through the touch of hand to hand. The sureness of his grip. The power of his hand, gentled now, but there if she needed it. The way he kept up with her, but had no need to take the lead.

And then, as she turned the corner into the short corridor where Ashley's room was, his slight tensing, and the questioning.

But when she started to push the door open, he didn't hesitate to use his arm to push it wider for her, making it easier.

Ashley was lying propped up in the narrow bed.

“Where'd you go? I've been all alone. They gave me all these shots and—” Then she saw Trent. “What's he doing here? I don't want him here.”

“Ashley, as your mother, I will do my absolute best to keep you safe and to give you all that you need. Your wants, however, are another issue.”

“But, Mom…” The protest became a wail as her eyes filled with tears.

Jennifer stroked her hair with her free hand, but she didn't release Trent's hand and her voice was firm.

“How can I teach you to value a good man if I turn one away? How can I teach you that you have the right to be loved as you are if I refuse that kind of love? How can I teach you to value yourself if I don't value myself enough to love?”

Jennifer saw anger at being thwarted in her daughter's eyes, but she also saw confusion, and she took that as a good sign.

She'd spent a good part of her own life being certain of things that turned out to be wrong. In the past few months, confusion had been a step toward enlightenment. At the same time, though, she felt the certainty and joy of Trent's firm grip on her hand, of his solid presence at her side.

“Mom—”

Ashley's renewed wail was cut off when the door opened and the doctor and nurse walked in.