Daddy Wanted. Renee Andrews

at the envelope, her lower lip rolling in as she ran a finger across the handwritten address on the outside. With shaky hands, she turned it over and withdrew the letter.

      Brodie watched her eyes move across the page as she read each line. At the end, she closed her eyes, released a quivering breath and handed the letter back.

      “Believe me now?” he asked.

      She nodded. “But she only asked about tutoring. The baseball—”

      “Will give me a way to break the ice by doing something he wants to do.”

      She mulled that over. “Okay. We’ll try it. But if his grades don’t get better, then no baseball or tutoring.”

      “He needs help. Willow said so, and you know it’s true. Even more now that he’s lost his mom.”

      “I know he does,” she whispered, leaning her head toward the door to presumably make sure the kids were still listening to the television. “I’m just not so sure that help needs to come from you.” Before he had a chance to argue, she added, “But I see that it’s what Willow wanted, and I won’t deny her request.”

      “Good,” he said. “Because I do want to make things right. And whether you believe me or not, Savvy, I was going to tell her I was sorry and ask her to forgive me. Today. As soon as I saw her.”

      Savvy shook her head incredulously. “After all these years? You wanted to ask her forgiveness now?” She wrapped her arms around herself in an apparent effort to remain calm. “You never called to check on her. You never returned her calls, or mine, for that matter. You ignored emails. Dropped out of our lives altogether, as though we’d done something wrong. But you were the one...” Her voice quaked. “You ripped Willow’s world apart. And mine.” The last two words were spoken so softly that Brodie barely heard. But he did.

      “I didn’t call you because I knew she’d told you what I did, and I knew you wouldn’t forgive me.”

      “You never really knew Willow, or you’d have known she tried to protect you. She didn’t want me to think badly of you. She didn’t tell me.”

      “She— What?” Floored, Brodie tried to comprehend Savvy’s words. He’d thought that Savvy would have been the first person Willow called after he left her in Knoxville. “Willow never told you?”

      “Not for several years. When she and the kids would come visit at the beach, we’d always end up talking about you, about our friendship and about what we thought might have gone wrong. Why you stopped caring about the two of us.”

      Brodie flinched, the truth of her statement packing a powerful punch.

      She shrugged. “Finally, she couldn’t keep it from me anymore. She told me about the one-night stand, and the way you left her in the hotel in Knoxville. She’d thought your friendship had turned into love. Did you know that?”

      She yanked the jacket tighter around her petite frame. “Did you ever think about what that night might have meant to someone like Willow? Someone who actually dreamed of the happily-ever-after that she’d never had in her own home? And that’s what she thought she’d found—with you—until she woke up, and you were gone.”

      Brodie swallowed hard. “I messed up.”

      “Yeah, Brodie, you did. She ended up feeling like all of the other girls you left behind. And you did what you always did. You went on your merry way and never looked back. Not at Willow,” she said, her words sharp and heated now, “or at me.”

      “Savvy, I can explain about what happened back then and why I left the way I did.” He wanted to explain. Needed to explain.

      The door cracked open, and Daisy peeked out. “Aunt Savvy, can we have dessert?”

      She took a deep breath, exhaled thickly and then found a smile for the little girl. “Yes, there are some brownies on the counter.”

      Daisy’s mouth slid to the side as she stared at Brodie, but she didn’t ask why he was still there, wet and tired, standing in the rain. And wishing he could redo one day of his life. The night he’d crossed the boundaries of friendship with Willow...and the morning he’d abandoned her in that hotel room.

      After the door closed, Savvy said, “I don’t want to hear your explanation. No explanation would be sufficient for what you did. It’s too late.” She was so visibly mad that it wouldn’t surprise Brodie if the rain came off her like steam. “You can help Dylan, because for some bizarre reason, that was one of Willow’s last wishes.” She shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe that the last letter she ever wrote...was to you.”

      Brodie started to clarify, to tell Savvy that the letter in his jacket probably wasn’t the last one Willow ever wrote, because this one had been penned almost a month ago. Obviously, since he’d just shown up today, Savvy assumed he’d received the letter very recently. If he told her the truth, she’d want to know why he hadn’t come earlier. And, like his leaving Willow in that hotel room after a one-night stand, his explanation would fall short.

      So he remained silent.

      “I can come tomorrow, after Dylan gets out of school, if that’ll work. I’ll take him to the field and we’ll hit a few. Then I’ll talk to him about school.”

      A giant flash of lightning illuminated the sky and subsequently showcased the distress on her face at having to accept Brodie’s offer. She jumped when the thunder that followed shook the trailer.

      Brodie took a step toward her.

      Savvy took a step back.

      “I don’t need you,” she said fiercely.

      He nodded. “I get that. But you used to.”

      Her eyes grew even darker. Did she also remember the many nights in high school when bad weather hit Claremont and she’d called Brodie? He’d either talk to her until the storm passed, or on a couple of occasions, he’d driven to her grandparents’ home, met her on the front porch and held her while she cried.

      “I don’t need you,” she repeated. “You left back then, and I haven’t needed you since.”

      “You left first,” he reminded her.

      Savvy’s chin quivered, and she shook her head so subtly that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. But Brodie did. She had left Claremont several months before he’d taken off for college. And she’d never looked back. Barely called Brodie and Willow for nearly three years, and neither of them knew why she’d headed south to Florida. He still didn’t know. And she obviously wasn’t telling.

      “You can start working with Dylan tomorrow,” she said, turning her back to him to enter the trailer. “But as soon as he passes those tests and gets approved to move on to ninth grade, you’ll be done. And you’ll stay away.” Not bothering to wait for his response, she entered the trailer, closed the door and left Brodie standing in the rain.