“Stockholm Syndrome?”
“No,” Mallory replied. “They discovered that they have a unique thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
Mallory’s head pounded. With Brodie, she wanted to be perpetually clever, ready to make up any story and any silly remark. She’d never experienced herself like this. She brimmed with creativity.
“They learned that they both absolutely adore…” What? Think, Mallory! Something funny!
“Ah. You’re talking about their obsession with Australian Gymnastics,” Brodie finished, coming in to assist her.
Mallory burst into laughter. “How did you know?”
“I’m actually one of the spies in the bunker,” Brodie said. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you till just now.”
Mallory’s giggles continued, her stomach tightening and releasing so violently that she nearly spit up her onion ring. She placed her hand on the table, clutching her napkin. Mid-laughter Brodie reached over and touched her hand. The motion was so tender, so lovely, that Mallory’s heart nearly shattered.
“Thank you for talking like this,” Brodie said, his smile faltering.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that sometimes, life can feel so serious. The only conversations I have, revolve around my siblings, my mother, what the family still needs and how much money we have saved for groceries. I moved out several years ago, obviously, but I’m there all the time, trying to get the younger kids to do their homework and the older kids to consider ways to make more money. It’s exhausting.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“My dad has always pushed me to follow his footsteps,” Brodie continued. “I’m the oldest and the one with the most responsibility for the family. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do my own thing. I have dreams and visions for my life. But I feel strapped down by the responsibilities of my family.” He paused to take a sip of water, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”
“You are making a lot more sense than you know,” Mallory whispered. “I can’t relate to supporting your entire family. That sounds like a very heavy weight. But…”
Should I really tell him about Zachery? Already?
“I’m a mother,” Mallory forced herself to say, choosing honesty over anything else. “And the pregnancy was kind of a relief because back then, I had no vision for myself. No purpose. I threw myself into motherhood and then into a job as a secretary at the family business. Now, I feel my own identity slipping away, and I don’t know how to claim it back.”
Brodie nodded, his eyes widening. His hand remained over hers, protecting her. “It sounds like we both have some work to do.”
“Should we hatch a plan?” Mallory asked.
Brodie laughed again, that deep and joyful laugh that Mallory’s ears had begun to crave. “Summer Plan: Get out from under our families’ powerful shadows. Easier said than done.”
When the server brought the bill, Brodie nabbed it before Mallory even had a chance to read it.
“You can help out next time,” Brodie told her, waving his debit card before he positioned it in the booklet.
Next time. Mallory had to bite her tongue so that she didn’t ask when that next time would be.Have patience.Live in the now.
Mallory and Brodie walked along the boardwalk beneath a plump moon. She kept her hands at her sides, praying that Brodie would take hers in his. The silence between them was comfortable and easy, as though they were lovers with years of time to their name.
“Oh wow.” Mallory glanced at the clock over the boardwalk, which read ten-forty-five. “I had no idea it was so late.”
“Me neither.” Brodie stopped short, shoving his hands in his pocket.
“I guess I’d better call a car to pick me up,” Mallory began. “I have to be at my secretary's desk bright and early tomorrow.”
“Your favorite place in the world.”
Mallory’s heart seized. She’d told him so much about herself; she’d given him so many of her personal emotions.What did that mean?
“Maybe I’ll see you at the Round the Island Race this weekend?” Brodie asked tentatively.