Dear Bella: A Family Justice Novella Page 3

  The unmistakable derision dripping off his next comment made Brody’s stomach churn.

  “The holiday season is the highlight of every year for rich society assholes looking for a charity photo op. Being taken out and paraded around as background for a public interest piece has a way of fucking with a kid’s mind.”

  Ugh. Brody knew the question he asked was a delicate one but he hadn’t expected this answer.

  “But Christmas was the worst. All that excitement. For what? Hoping some overfed, rich shithead would slide down an invisible chimney and leave a toy?”

  The sad, angry disbelief in Cam’s voice bothered the shit out of him. Bella used the same tone about the same subject. His gut started doing the rhumba.

  “What the fuck does a goddamn toy matter when you haven’t got a family? Or a place of your own where you’d even keep a toy? Pfft. Fucking Christmas.”

  The room fell silent.

  “Too much information?” Cam asked after a while. “Sorry. Touched a nerve.”

  “Nah, man. I get it. That’s why I asked. My kid is like a brick wall over this one thing. Everything else from her fucked up past we’ve handled but this is different. She refuses to back down or soften at all.”

  “And it’s killing you.”

  Cam’s words were a statement not a question.

  “Mind if I ask you a question now?”

  Coming out of nowhere, the request threw him. “Uh, sure. I guess.”

  “The little pantomime you and her were doing when I stopped by? That was practice for a proposal, right?”

  Brody had to smile, had to laugh. “Dude,” he groaned. “You’re starting to freak me out. Did we Vulcan mind meld and I forgot? I’m never playing poker with you.”

  “Ah. My superpowers make you nervous, then?”

  He snickered. “Fuck yeah it makes me nervous. But I have an army of guard dogs ready to eat your face if you make me cry so that makes us even. And to answer your question, yeah. And that’s all I want to say about what you saw.”

  Cam shrugged. “That’s cool, man. It wasn’t what you were doing that I wanted to ask about. I’m assuming this is a Christmas morning scenario?”

  He nodded.

  “Don’t you find it odd that Bella is completely closed off to Santa but totally committed to what you’re planning? Isn’t a mistletoe proposal like the best Christmas gift of all time?”

  “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah,” Cam agreed. “I’d say so. But can’t help you there. I will point this out though. Don’t be looking for something big or obvious. The key to unlocking Bella’s Santa joy will be small. Tiny. Don’t push aside anything as insignificant. You might be surprised by how easy it will be to heal this particular wound.”

  “What healed it for you?”

  Cam’s answer was swift and sure. “A blond ponytail who rightfully smacked me across the face and told me to get fucked but who never gave up or stopped believing. I’m Humpty Dumpty, man. Broken and then put back together by a girl with more balls and backbone than half the bad ass motherfuckers we deal with.”

  “I like your wife.”

  “Yeah,” he drawled. “Me too. She changed everything around here. Ask Alex. It’s Lacey who swept through Justice like a tornado of fresh air and nothing’s been the same since.”

  When they wrote the Justice saga, Lacey and Cam would need their own story. That part about her changing everything? It was one hundred and fifty percent the truth.

  He’d been around long enough to remember what Cam was like before Lacey came along. All the jokes about what a surly, unsmiling dickhead he was were completely spot on. Brody remembered the first time he saw Cameron Justice smile and how weird it seemed. Until that moment he figured maybe the guy’s facial muscles were paralyzed because nobody did blank face like he did. But he sure was a happy, smiling man these days.

  “Which brings us round again to my lovely wife wanting a goddamn dog. Sticking a fork in the idea of a puppy was uncool, Jensen. But I know you. If a puppy is a non-starter, what else you have up your sleeve?”

  “What you and the family need my friend is a rescue pup. About a year old would do. I can hook you up with an organization that matches dogs and families. You go through them, pick whatever you want and I’ll take care of the housebreaking and training.”

  “A rescue dog,” Cam muttered aloud. “Strangely, it fucking fits.”

  “In what way?”

  Standing, Cam smiled broadly and stuck out his hand. “Abandoned, neglected, needs nothing but a good home. Sounds like paragraph one of our bios.”

  Brody chuckled as he accepted the warm, friendly handshake. “I like the way your mind works.”

  “Good luck with saving Santa,” Cam drawled. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you and Heather. Oh, and apologies in advance for my wife’s uncontrollable enthusiasm where learning toys are involved. She says Bella has a gift with words. Saying, reading, writing, and understanding.”

  Brody groaned. “I’m thinking that my kid having a birthday the month before Christmas is going to present some unique challenges. There is such a thing as gift overkill.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  “Oh god. Sure! Bella might be older than Dylan but we’re on the same curve of the dad slide. All suggestions, hints and parenting hacks gratefully accepted.”

  “Think special. And I’m not talking big and fancy. This isn’t just a consumer holiday. It’s a chance to make family traditions. My wife taught me that. Do you have a memory tucked away of Christmas with your parents? I’d start there. Look for special moments that lend easily to being a tradition.”

  “How the hell did you get to be so wise about this stuff?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Cam drawled with a comical sneer.

  “FINN O’BRIEN,” HEATHER squawked. Slamming her bag onto the bar, she plopped onto a stool and glared at the back of his head. She’d seen him flinch when she called his name. No way was he skulking away without her giving him a piece of her mind. “Haul it over here, Beantown, or I’m telling Bella you’re using Velveeta instead of real cheese.”

  “Hi Heather. What can I get for you?”

  Her eyes darted to Barry’s barman, Grey. Since he was just doing his job, she dropped the snarl and answered with polite sarcasm.

  “Anything that will melt your Irish boss once I throw it at him.”

  “Aw, come on,” Finn grumbled when he walked over. “What the hell did I do this time? Forget to genuflect every time the Justice flag flies?”

  “I don’t know how you do it, Boss,” Grey laughed. “But it sure does seem like every female between here and the Mississippi wants to knock out a few of your teeth.”

  Finn had the good sense to appear embarrassed. “I think it’s my charming personality. Sends the wrong message.”

  Heather had a few things to say about wrong messages so she gave Grey a look and asked if he’d give her and Beantown a minute. When they were relatively alone with no one eavesdropping on their conversation, she slapped her hand palm down on the wooden bar and let out a menacing growl.

  “Goddammit Finn. What possessed you to tell Bella that Santa was fake? Are you out of your stupid mind or do you just like pissing all over a kid’s childhood memories?”

  He looked at her for a good long minute, reached for a bar glass, scooped some ice into it and squirted cola almost to the rim. Sporking two cherries with a plastic pick, he used it to swirl the soda. Dunking one last time and leaving the sweet fruit in the glass, he pushed it to her.

  “Not to rub salt or anything counselor but it has to be said. Your kid needs those childhood memories to be buried in shit and piss.”

  “You’re missing the point.”

  Damn. The cherries turned a plain Coke into carbonated heaven. After a big gulp, she set the glass down and leaned on the bar but he didn’t give her a chance to continue.

  “Look. Think about it a minute, Heather. Bella b
asically thinks Santa is a dick. In the mind of a kid, there’s no excuse for not showing up. A dead mother and a compound full of whackjobs shouldn’t have stopped someone who kept a fucking list on every kid. Worldwide.”

  She felt like a cartoon character when a painful gulp made her groan. Defending Santa was a little like explaining why breathing is helpful. “Yeah, I get that Finn but did you have to go the full Monty and call him out as a fake?”

  “I didn’t say Santa wasn’t real. She asked what I thought. Bella is incredibly sharp, Heather. She has a bullshit meter like no other. I just figured that doing some lame dog and pony show was going to piss her off. She’s smarter than that. Treating her like a dumb kid wasn’t what she expected from me. So I told her a tiny part of the truth. The dress up, picture taking Santas aren’t the real thing. I didn’t tell her not to believe. I just gave her a resting space for what she was feeling. Gave Santa a small reprieve. Maybe give the jolly fucker a chance to make amends.”

  Oh my god. That was it! She stared open mouthed at Finn. No one was ever gonna believe the snarky prick had the answer to Bella’s Santa problem.

  “She wants it all to be real,” he added. “More than you realize. But she’s afraid of being disappointed. I think after all she’s been through and overcome, she’s earned this foot dragging. Stop waiting for her to accept Santa. The way I see it, Bella needs an apology. A personal one. Direct from the North Pole. She needs to understand how and why she was forgotten. Maybe then she’ll forgive.”

  She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Her mind was working overtime.

  “See the problem with grown-ups is this. You’re thinking of Santa as an abstract. A cultural icon. A make-believe character apologizing? Too hypothetical for an adult mind. But this isn’t about you. It’s about a vulnerable six year old and to her, Santa, the reindeer, a toy workshop, even a fancy sleigh and a worldwide adventure? All that shit is real in the mind of a child. Real Santa hurt real Bella’s heart. Expecting her to leave out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk is naïve.”

  Heather sipped the Coke and considered what Finn was saying. Right up to this point, all the making up for and apologizing came from Brody. He never shirked responsibility for his part in losing her. Even though Tracey was the one to blame for what happened, he refused to pretend he was blameless. Bella understood how wretched her father felt for the things she’d been through. And she forgave him. Every day, she forgave him because his love for her and hers for him was stronger than the past.

  The kid really was a badass.

  But Santa was on his own. Brody wasn’t responsible for the red-suited guy fucking up. Explaining wasn’t going to be easy but she understood now. Finn hit the nail on the head. They knew Santa was make-believe. But Bella was of a different opinion. And until the bearded fat guy explained himself and gave her a chance to express what was in her heart, this whole matter would never be put to rest.

  “Remind me to thank your dad the next time I see him.”

  Finn looked at her quizzically. “For what?”

  “For sending you here.”

  An odd end to an odd conversation but with Finn, odd was queuing up to be par for the course.

  “Watch,” Drae murmured to Victoria.

  Motioning with his head at the dog, he stealthily concealed the Nerf blaster next to his leg and pulled the trigger. A loud popping noise made Raven jump. The yellow ball zooming across the yard sent her scrambling while Danny sat between his mother’s legs and clapped his hands.

  “Dog!”

  His wife’s dry expression and raised brows was exactly what he’d been going for. He tried to give her at least one chance every day to roll her eyes and shake her head. He saw it as a husbandly duty. Reminders of his fallibility just in case she forgot just how big a douche he could be. He was counting on her to keep him honest and call him out when the bottom swimmers in the St. John gene pool took over.

  “I know you think you’re cute. And funny,” she drawled. “But shugah, that whatever the hell you call it with the mounted Nerf blasters is a dumbed down version of Mad Max vehicles in the desert.”

  With a completely innocent look of ‘Huh?’ he snickered softly. “Aw, shit honey. Mad Max? That thing is an honest-to-god toy. Just cause it looks like one of our grown-up rides doesn’t mean it is.”

  “Draegyn St. John,” she sniped. “Child ergonomics aside, a drivable pedal racer with mounted Nerf guns, which is clearly labeled for ages four to ten, is hardly a suitable first birthday present.”

  “Says who?” He laughed.

  “Says the overprotective mother with a second bun in the oven.”

  Daniel was squirming like crazy and wanted to crawl after Raven but Victoria kept him trapped within arm’s reach. Drae whistled and the stupid goofy dog ran back with the Nerf ball in her mouth. Sometimes, like now, he couldn’t believe this was his life.

  “It’s one thing for you idiots to go tearing around the desert with your modified ATVs and paintball gear. But do you have to indoctrinate our son with your testosterone infused foolishness at such a young age?”

  “Jesus god,” he snorted. “That was one hell of a mouthful! Lacey help you string those words together?”

  “Maybe,” she answered with a hair flip. “Probably. But you know what I’m getting at Draegyn.”

  Needling her was more fun than it should be after all this time but it truly never got old. Learning how her mind worked was more exhilarating and almost as terrifying as dodging bullets.

  “Excuse me wife, but did you not see Bella doing birthday wheelies out behind the house during her party? You ladies and your estrogen crew have just as much badassery leading you astray as we do.”

  “Bella’s the exception and stop trying to shut me up. It’s a mother’s job to wag her finger and harp at Daddy about taking chances.”

  “And don’t ever stop,” he growled when he leaned in and claimed her lips for a quick but deep kiss.

  He went back to driving the dog nuts. Danny climbed over his mom’s legs and used Drae’s arm to pull himself up until the little dude was standing at his shoulder.

  “Da! Dog!” He stuck his finger in his mouth along his cheek and let go of Drae’s shoulder long enough to wobble and point at Victoria. “Mom.” He said the word with reverence. He probably got that from me, he thought with a slow smile.

  “Pretty Mommy,” he told his son. Dropping a kiss on the handsome tyke’s forehead Drae smiled at his wife and then stopped. Her expression looked… troubled. “What’s wrong?”

  The lack of an immediate, reassuring response made him uneasy. Victoria was way too direct for waffling. She gleefully shot from the hip in an unapologetic way. Silence from her had all the hallmarks of dripping water torture.

  He searched his memory bank. Their obstetrician was all smiles and thumbs up so it wasn’t that. Stephanie and Calder were counting down the weeks until their January wedding so nothing pause-worthy happening there.

  “Please don’t get mad.”

  She was kidding, right? Mad? At her? What the goddamn hell was going on?

  He and Danny were both looking at Victoria. Did the kid also sense something was up?

  “Ohhh-kay,” he slowly murmured.

  “Um, well, it’s like this,” she said.

  It was so unlike his wife to fidget and mumble that he started to get really worried.

  She sat up straight and shook herself. “Yeah, so here it is. Your uh, your folks sent a birthday present.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Arthur signed the card himself. I recognized the handwriting.”

  Drae’s face contorted with revulsion and disgust. His fucking parents. Of course. Why the fuck not? She watched him with a tense expression. Mindful of the fact that she didn’t have to answer for his lackluster parents or go out of her way to try and smooth things over, he willed the edge off his automatic reaction to being reminded that he even had parents. He’d vowed a long time ago to keep his fucked
up family and childhood far away from the life he made in Arizona.

  He and his sister Desirée were of like minds on the matter. If both of them had been able to divorce their nutter parents, they would have.

  Sighing, he drew Daniel into a hug and pressed his face into the boy’s neck. Baby pheromones instantly lifted his mood. As if his son sensed he needed comfort, Danny snuggled into his shoulder and gave him a hug. “Da.”

  “Do I want to know what they sent?”

  Victoria’s sneering laugh told him a lot. “You have to guess.”

  “Savings bond?”

  “Nope.”

  “Engraved, silver, picture frame?”

  “Uh uh.”

  He thought for a moment. What ridiculous society prompted bullshit would his parents peddle?

  “Please tell me a bank account or the words college fund were involved.”

  “As if!” she scoffed. “My mother won’t be having any of their nonsense should they pull a stunt like that. After all, technically speaking, our son is already a landowner. Alex and Meghan’s gift to my mom of the property where she and Calder built the cottage cabin gives Daniel, my new brother or sister and any more of our children a stake in the Valleja-Marquez ancestral real estate. Your parents and their filthy money can fuck right the hell off.”

  He couldn’t say it better if he tried.

  “So? What did they send?”

  Danny randomly giggled as if he knew what was coming.

  “A silver cup. Engraved with his name and birthdate.”

  “Are you serious? A cup? What the hell is he supposed to do with a metal cup? Wing it at the poor dog’s head?”

  Victoria’s amused laugh instantly soothed his soul. “I can see it now. You lugging an unconscious Raven to the vet and explaining how our pooch got a concussion from being used as target practice.”

  Now there was a funny visual. “Will be part of Daniel’s backstory when he tries out for the big leagues.” After a minute he asked, “What did you do with it? The cup?”

  She shrugged and made a face. “Didn’t know what to do with it. Desi’s suggestion included words like target practice.”