F*CK Reality: Take One Page 7

  “She doesn’t know that city, Decklan Malloy! Do you want our little girl walking around lost and hungry in a strange place she knows nothing about?”

  “Nora, please,” Dad angrily begs. “Just stop.”

  “Dad?” I question. “You think I should do this?”

  Directly following my question, my brother adds, “No way.”

  Ashton doesn’t say this in a way as not to do it. He appears to be in as much shock as I am at the mere idea of our father entertaining me with his support in this decision.

  “Brooke,” Dad addresses. Before I turn to face him as he sits at the head of our small dining room table, he asks, “Is this an opportunity you think you’d like to consider?”

  “What’s there to consider?” my mother gasps, holding her hand to her chest.

  Her long brown hair must be standing on end. She’s got it pulled back away from her face that’s aged at least ten years since we all sat down.

  “What are you saying, Decklan? That she should go on some random low rated television show, meet her match, and do what?”

  Dad throws a look to Mom, which thankfully keeps her quiet, but her mouth still gapes wide. I can’t think straight with her constant interruptions.

  “Brooke?” Dad prods for his answer.

  Shaking my head, I explain, “I wasn’t. I mean, until Addie—”

  Obviously, Mom refuses to let this go. Cutting me off, she raises her voice to yell, “Addison Marie Tindal!”

  Earlier this evening, I called my best friend. I strategically used several means of persuasive childhood blackmail and got her to reluctantly agree to having dinner with my parents. I was hoping either they would run her off, screaming for the hills and begging for their forgiveness, or calmly tell her me going off on some random little thought-out mission wasn’t going to happen. I hadn’t, however, placed any consideration into my father’s peculiar reaction.

  Addie comes striding in after hearing her name called. She bounces around the corner from the bathroom and quietly takes her seat directly across from me and next to Ashton. She up and ran once I brought up the show.

  Like the traitor she is.

  “Mrs. Malloy,” Addie formally addresses. “Personally, I don’t think Brooke going is a bad idea.”

  “You don’t think this is a bad idea,” my mother repeats. “And don’t call me Mrs. Malloy!”

  Now all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end hearing the tone my mother uses. That same tone has always been saved for my brother and me when we found ourselves in a shit storm of trouble. Now it’s aimed at Addie and, in reaction, my best friend sinks slightly in her seat.

  “This was all your idea,” my mom accuses her next. “I should’ve known. This has your name all over it.”

  Slapping his hand to the table, hard enough to rein in my mother’s attention, my dad speaks to her directly. “Nora, for the last time, just stop. Let Brooke answer for herself.”

  “Yes,” Addie agrees, shifting the focus from her back to me. “Let’s hear Brooke out.”

  “I wasn’t considering this, Dad, until Addie talked to Willow the next day and got the details.”

  “And?” he prods, coaxing me to continue. “Go on.”

  “Do you think it’s a good idea?” I ask, genuinely wanting his opinion. “It would mean I’d be leaving the inn for at least two months.”

  Dad’s lips draw in tight. It’s always been my father, not my mother, who’s pushed me away from this town.

  Time and time again he’s told me I’m too big for it.

  The people here are simple, he’s said.

  You have a good head on my shoulders, he’s told me.

  Go do what you’re destined to do was the best advice he’s ever given me; I’ve never applied this to anything I’ve ever done.

  “The inn will manage itself without you. Ashton can pull more of his weight while still maintaining his class schedule. And your mother and I can pick up the rest. Now, tell me...” He pauses, then directs, “What do you want to do?”

  When I look down to my untouched plate, I aim to focus. Trying to explain that being away from this town for any reason would be good for only one is too tough for words. I need away from Jason and all the memories, good and bad, this town holds.

  “I don’t know what I want to do,” I admit quietly.

  My father, sitting next to me, brings his hand to my shoulder and squeezes gently. When my mom starts to say something again, he lifts his finger. She quiets, but audibly huffs.

  “Brooke, look at me,” he gently demands.

  Tears spring to my eyes. Not from doubt of the show itself, but because the very thought of leaving either of my parents for more than a few weeks bothers me. When I look up, the gentleness I’ve always found on my dad’s face is there. Always understanding and always ever-present.

  “I think you’ll do well in anything you decide to do. I’ve never seen the show myself, but I think if there’s an opportunity that others don’t get, you should take it. I’m not saying run off and get married—”

  “Then what are you saying?” I ask as though those around the table have ceased to exist. This is a moment saved for guidance between a father and his only daughter.

  “I’m saying Ashton, your mother, and I love you very much. We want what’s best for you, and you’re of an age now when you’re the only person who can decide what that best looks like.”

  “Brooke,” Addie calls. I turn to her. She holds the same expression as my dad. “He’s right. You need to do what’s best for you. Don’t let my opinion interfere.”

  There’s a first.

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell them both.

  When I bravely move my gaze to my mother, I find her mouth still open, but not in surprise. Her coloring is lost again, and her small body is starting to shake.

  She’s about to pass out.

  Then again, so am I.

  Chapter Seven

  Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.

  Brock

  -

  Standing in front of the airport terminal, I take in the sight of my two best, albeit traitorous, friends.

  Nick is looking anywhere but at me. If he were feigning a dubious whistle, it would be a fuck of a lot less obvious that he finds this entire scene hilarious. Drew continues looking at me, then to the door, and finally back to me, as if placing some internal bet whether I’ll really go or make a break for it.

  As if bets didn’t just get me into this mess.

  When I told my father my plan for the show, he gave me the same coarse expression he always does—half-hearted disinterest. After he approved a partially paid leave of absence from work, he shook my hand and told me to make good decisions. It was a mocking statement as he knew inevitably I’d be choosing a bride—a woman to bring home to my mother. His exact wish was becoming a reality, to my liking or not.

  My mother, always overly dramatic, cried. She hates this idea more than any others I had growing up, and believe me, I’ve had plenty. To say me going on a reality show ranks higher than the year I brought home a family of baby squirrels is saying a lot. I was nine and didn’t know any better, or probably did and didn’t care. I’d trapped them in a barrel and had every intention of calling them pets. Her wordless reaction of heavy sighs followed by tears said enough. Needless to say, she was beside herself.

  Tate reacted to the news I was leaving exactly as I figured Tate would. She was livid. She couldn’t believe how far I’d sunken in order to get a date—her words, not mine. More than anything else, to me she’s still a kid. Being so, I withheld all I truly wanted to say to her.

  I can’t get a date our father approves of.

  I’m not able to make my good decisions regarding the women I sleep with.

  I’m doing everything father says.

  Unfortunately, though, I know my motives for going wouldn’t appease her. I’m going to L.A. for a reason. Aside from a one week trip back in a few weeks, I’ll be
coming home a married man.

  “You packed everything you need?” Drew asks. If I’m not mistaken, I’m sensing he’s finally starting to feel a small version of remorse.

  I nod, but don’t say anything more.

  “You nervous?” Nick inquires, still holding in his laugh. “I mean, not nervous about the plane, but you know, picking a bride.”

  “Fuck you,” I flip back.

  If he were anyone else, I’d punch him.

  “I gotta go check in or I’ll miss my flight,” I advise.

  “I’m not huggin’ you, bro. I’ll see you soon,” Drew assures. “I’m gonna see if I can come visit.”

  “Maybe by the time you get there, I’ll be less pissed,” I advise curtly.

  I shouldn’t be pissed now, but I am.

  I got myself into this, not them. Granted, they didn’t steer me away and, months ago, they did fill out the damn application on my behalf, not to mention this whole fucking production was their idea of a perfect set-up.

  Yeah, never mind. I should be pissed.

  With Nick’s smirk in place, I turn around to leave and hear, “Call us when you land.”

  Chapter Eight

  Father knows best.

  Brooke

  -

  “Brooke, Ashton’s waiting by the car to take you to the airport. Are you almost ready?”

  I turn to find my mom leaning against the doorjamb of my bedroom and looking at me as she always does—with lots of love, but complete misunderstanding.

  Her eyes are swimming with tears, and she’s biting her bottom lip to control its constant quiver. My mom never understood why I’ve always made the decisions I have. The older I get, the more stress she puts on me to be like her.

  Truth be told, I’m my father’s daughter above all else.

  In an effort to offer reassurance, I promise, “I’m going to call you every day. I’ll text you, too. Don’t worry, Mom. I really will be fine.”

  “Your father says this, too. But Brooke, I hate that you’re leaving.”

  I knew she was going to make this hard. Dad told me as much last night after dinner, just as I was leaving with Addie to go out for a drink.

  “I’ll be back in a few weeks. They’re giving us a five-day break, remember?”

  “If you don’t get chosen to be his bride, you’ll be back sooner?”

  Shaking my head, I advise, “No. The groom doesn’t choose until the end. All of us have to wait to see what happens as everyone else does. I’m stuck in L.A. until the finale.”

  “I hope you’re not in the finale, Brooke. Not in a way that changes your last name, anyway.”

  My mom still hasn’t accepted any of this. I’m not confident enough to believe I’ll be the woman at the altar. When Addie relayed all Willow explained during their conversation, she included such things as the professions of some of the contestants. They vary from hair dresser to veterinarian. She mentioned nothing of family-owned business owners who snack on cookies and ice cream while reading glossy glamour magazines and watching high school drama reality television to pass their time.

  No matter what, this will be a good experience. I reassure myself of this for the hundredth time.

  “All right, Mom. I’m finished here, so help me get my things to the car.”

  Without delay, Mom bends to grab one suitcase as I grab the other. We make our way through the house and into the foyer near the front door where my dad stands alone, drinking his coffee, and looking out into the driveway. Mom grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me in for a deep hug, which I return.

  “I love you, Button. Be safe.” She bids her goodbye through a broken voice.

  Dad turns around and observes us with a small smile as Mom steps back, fidgets with her hair, and quickly walks away.

  “She hates this,” I prompt, walking closer to stand at his side.

  Outside, both Addie and Ashton are leaning against Ashton’s new truck. Luckily, they aren’t paying any attention to what’s going on at the front door.

  My dad’s still not said a word, so I ask, “You okay?”

  Pulling his cup of coffee to his lips, he takes a quick drink then whispers over the rim, “No.”

  “Dad?”

  Not looking at me, but out into the driveway, he explains his apprehension. “My girl is leaving. I’ll never be okay with that.”

  “I’m coming back when it’s over,” I assure.

  Throughout my life, especially as a kid, I’ve reassured him of this time and time again.

  My first day of kindergarten, he had tears in his eyes.

  He was so nervous for me to be around other kids my age. He said they all carried germs. The teachers at my school weren’t considered responsible adults, but rather complete strangers. I’m not sure who between us was hurting worse when he and my mother dropped me off that first day.

  My first middle school dance, he did all he could to keep his emotions in check.

  That dance was the first time I had a reason to really dress up. I wore makeup. Before leaving the house, he told my mother to take it off. She fought to keep it and won, but he grumbled the entire way there and was waiting for me by the front door after Addie’s mom had dropped me off.

  My first date.

  The night Tommy Gilroy picked me up in his parents’ van, my father played his part well. He told Tommy if he brought me home so much as a minute late, he wouldn’t call his parents to complain, but rather he’d call to inform them where their son’s charred remains had been buried.

  God, I love my dad.

  “Do you remember when you were six years old and I took you to the state fair?”

  I don’t interrupt, but smile because I know where this story is going.

  “It was just us. Ashton had chicken pox. He’d been miserable, and you and me needed a break.”

  “I remember.”

  When Dad looks over at me, I note his eyes are reflective. “I all but begged you to ride that pony.”

  “Yes,” I concur, remembering my father softly nudging my back to leave him and walk toward the first pony I’d ever seen up close.

  “I didn’t want you to ride it. My heart broke at the thought, but my gut told me you needed to try.”

  “Magnificent was his name,” I remind him. “He was so big. I was scared.”

  “You remember his name, which means he made quite an impression.”

  “I never got the guts to get on him, though.”

  “You never let go of my hand.” My father remembers as well. “When I looked down at you and saw how nervous you were, I tried to reason with myself how important it was that I push you to do something you were scared of.”

  “I don’t regret not getting on the horse, Dad, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  No longer looking at me directly, he keeps his concentration outside. “I want you to live the life you should’ve been living here all along. I allowed you to hide behind your fears only because they were mine, as well. I should’ve been forcing you to face them as any other parent would have.”

  “You didn’t let me hide behind them,” I deny, but in part he’s right.

  To disregard my making excuses for him, he says, “Even if it’s only for the next however many weeks, Brooke. I want you to experience things you wouldn’t have the chance to otherwise.”

  “I will,” I promise.

  “And don’t think about us back here missing you, either. We’ll see you soon enough.”

  “I know.” I concur.

  “Just be safe. You know the rules. Act responsibly, be courteous and kind, but don’t get taken advantage of.”

  “Hey,” I call for his attention as I hear his voice starting to break. It’s dropping with each word of last minute advice he’s delving out.

  “I love you, Button. Your mother and I both do. You’re young and we worry.”

  “Dad, I’m twenty-six.”

  Finally, his head turns and it’s then I see the expression on his fac
e. He’s scared. This isn’t about the memory of a beautiful pony, my first day of kindergarten, or my first date. This is so much more, and he isn’t handling it well.

  “You’ll still be my first born when you’re fifty, and you’ll always be my little girl.”

  His sincerity is too much. I drape my arms around him from the side as we keep our focus in the driveway, where Ashton has Addie in a headlock in play.

  “God, that brother of yours will never change, will he?”

  “Nope,” I breathe out.

  Thankfully, my brother will never change.

  Turning further into him, I give my Dad a hug, tell him I love him, and walk out of his arms without chancing a look back.

  “Woman, it’s about time. Ashton’s about to get his ass beat,” Addie exasperates, fixing her hair and clothes from my brother’s torment. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I think so.”

  The sun is glowing, shining down so bright I use my hand to block its rays.

  “You know Add’s going with you to L.A., right?” my brother questions.

  I hadn’t known this. I immediately turn to her in time to see her throwing a sharp glare toward my brother. He shrugs it off as he always does.

  “You are?”

  “I am. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “How’s that possible?” I inquire. I look back at the house to find my dad standing at the door, still drinking his coffee, but he’s doing it with a smile.

  “I took a leave of absence from work. Your dad insisted I go and watch over you.”

  “Watch over me?” I scoff. “You’re the last person on earth who should be assigned to watch over me.”

  My dad has lost his mind.

  Ashton’s face is serious, and his words are confident as he says, “Not to supervise like you think. Dad told us he wants you to have fun, Brooke. Addie’s going along to ensure you do.”

  Hearing this, I turn for the last time as my father’s hand comes up from his pocket where he offers a wave and a smirk.

  I return the gesture, but this time knowing I’ve been set up.

  Addie and my own father have conspired against me. Apparently, if they have their way, I’ll be living it up the entire trip.