Matt & Brooklyn: A Standalone in the "Again for the First Time" Family Saga (AFTFT Book 2) (5 page)

I thought back, remembering the concern I had when responding earlier. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to attend; it was use of the word
‘date’
that had me feeling kind of weird. I’d never tell Matt that, though, mostly because I was probably making a big deal out of nothing. So, instead, I explained it away as a miscommunication and he didn’t question it again.

Our drive finally took us close enough to the ocean for me to get a glimpse. It was beautiful, bluer than I ever imagined it would be. Already, I could feel the sun bathing my skin in its heat while I sat soaking it all in. I had all four of my bathing suits packed and planned on wearing each one.

Matt pulled his truck into the driveway of a modest-sized house, ranch-style, painted a light shade of gray with white shutters and a porch that looked like it wrapped all the way around to the back. I zeroed in on a wooden, two-person swing hanging from chain links. The gentle breeze made it sway and I felt my cheeks tighten with a smile.

This, his world, just kept getting better.

I expected Matt’s neighbors to be close, but I was wrong about that. There was enough space between houses that I wondered if he had ever even met them. He could literally avoid them completely if he wanted. While the house wasn’t all that elaborate, it was breathtaking all the same. I knew, in this area with this amount of land, right off the beach… it had to be expensive. While he wouldn’t have been offended by me asking how much cash he had to come off of to afford it, I decided against it. Wasn’t my business.

The engine shut off and the next sound that filled my senses only added to the perfection of the scenery—a flock of seagulls cawing as they flew above the house, headed toward the sand and pristine water just beyond it. The driver’s side door slammed shut and I met Matt at the back of the truck to help with my things. He only let me carry my tote, which I happily accepted when it was handed over.

I was speechless as we walked the stone pathway to his front door, deciding that I would most likely spend a majority of my time outside.

“Well, it isn’t much, but it’s mine,” he said, flashing a broad smile. “I’m thinking about adding on to it; maybe a dormer up top in a year or so once I get around to it.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s perfect just like it is, Matt. Hell, if I didn’t have a job to get back to, I’d probably never leave.” The second he smirked at my statement, I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking—that he’d be perfectly fine with that decision.

We stepped up onto the slightly worn porch. It appeared to have a fresh whitewash paint job, as if the coat was intentionally applied lightly to avoid fully covering the blemishes. My fingers trailed over the nicks and divots in the handrail and I observed the layers of character that weren’t visible from the driveway. There was such a homey feel already and we hadn’t even been beyond the front door.

The lock disengaged and I clutched the handle to my bag in front of me with both hands, peeking around Matt for an early glimpse inside. With minimal sunlight left, he flipped on a light in the front hall and I no longer had to strain, stepping inside onto beige tile that covered the entryway and also every other room visible from where I stood. Matt moved around me to close the door and my eyes continued to wander. It was a lot bigger than the outside led me to believe, maybe because of the vaulted ceilings, but it was still quaint and cozy.

“Here… set your bag down and I’ll give you a tour.”

I did as I was told and then slipped my sandals off my feet because Matt had also removed his shoes. It was kinda cute that he took enough pride in his home to encourage others to respect it, too. I smiled to myself again, marveling at what a grownup he’d become, living out here on his own.

The foyer branched off into two hallways, one leading off to the right and one headed to the left. We bypassed both and went straight, headed for the living room. More of the off-white tile covered the floor, but a plush, taupe rug ran from one floorboard to the next, giving the room a warm feeling it wouldn’t have had otherwise. A large, white sofa sat in the middle of the room, strategically placed where those who sat on it would have an amazing view of the ocean just beyond the large, glass windows and French doors taking up the entire back wall of the room. I fell in love with that spot, right there on Matt’s couch, and I hadn’t even had the pleasure of sitting there yet.

“TV’s over there,” he said, gesturing toward a tall, oak armoire in the corner. The television was hidden behind broad cabinets and I was pretty sure it’d stay that way for the most part. Who needed TV when the view was so beautiful?

“Kitchen’s right this way.”

I followed Matt through an open entryway with built-in, white bookshelves at either side. Upon closer examination, most of his book selection consisted of pieces written on filmography, photography, or autobiographies written by men and women who’d chosen a similar life path to Matt’s. He was serious about his craft, one of many reasons I had so much respect for him.

“This is where all the magic happens,” he said, spreading his arms wide as he approached the tiled island in the middle of the kitchen.

I snorted, muffling the sound of it with my hand. “Um… don’t most people say that about their bedrooms?” I asked. “Not the kitchen?”

He shrugged with a laugh—deep and throaty with a velvety-smoothness that sometimes made me forget who he was to me; sometimes made me forget that I shouldn’t enjoy the sound of it as much as I did.

His hand went to his chin again when he rubbed it back and forth. “Well… I don’t know about all that, but I sure as hell know I work miracles at this stove,” he replied, maneuvering around my statement with the ease and finesse of a man who’d done his share of impromptu interviews lately.

“Touché.”

He wasn’t lying about his cooking skills. Even the simple things he made were great. I’m talking grilled cheese that make you wanna slap your momma. Still hadn’t figured out what his secret was, but I now knew what I wanted him to make us for dinner.

“Come on. I’ll show you your room.”

My
room
;
he said that
as if I had rights to it.

The hallway came to life when he flipped on the light. The walls were lined with pictures of a beach at various times of the day and night. One or two were taken during what appeared to be a strong storm, flashes of lightning creating a sinister ambiance as the waves crashed onto the shore. They were so vivid; I could imagine movement in the stills.

“Is this
your
beach?” I stopped to ask, drawn to a specific photo where the lightning looked particularly ominous.

He only nodded

“You took ‘em yourself?” I asked, half expecting him to say
no
.

He gave another nod, though. I knew he dabbled in photography as well as film, but I guess it slipped my mind how good he was. In my defense, his talent behind a movie camera overshadowed everything else.

“I love them.”

His copper-tinted skin hinted toward red when I complimented him. “Thanks. I was just fooling around with the camera, and…” he shrugged nonchalantly. “…you know, they came out better than I thought they would so I hung ‘em. Needed something to fill up these empty walls.”

I continued on further only to stop again when a familiar, sleeping face halted me. It was from around six months ago when she was just born, but I’d know that beauty anywhere. Matt had hung a photo of the niece we shared, his brother’s and my sister’s little girl. She was adorable. Bearing such incredible resemblance to both sides of the family, it was hard to tell who she looked like more.

“You took this one, too?” I asked.

His hand went behind his neck and rubbed there a bit.
Was this embarrassing him? That I liked his work so much?

“Yeah, right before I moved here. Killed me that I had to leave before really getting to know her. Now I get to walk past her picture every morning. Hers is the first face I see.”

My chest warmed hearing him speak about Destiny in that way. She truly was a wonderful little girl. I felt sorry for him not getting to see her as often as I did. She already had two teeth and was crawling all over the place. Glancing over at Matt, I saw a hint of sadness behind his eyes and I had a feeling it came from a bad case of homesickness. Hopefully, that would fade a bit after a few days of us hanging out.

The door at the end of the hallway creaked just a little when Matt pushed it open. Another light flipped on and the room was bathed in warm light, touching the billowy, white sheers that covered the large window. I was so grateful that this room had a view of the water, although I couldn’t see much of it anymore with the sun gone for the day.

“I uh… hope this is cool for you. The bed is huge and takes up quite a bit of space, but I wasn’t thinking when I picked it out. Should’ve just gone with queen-size,” he said with a chuckle, doing that thing where he rubbed and squeezed the back of his neck again.

“It’s perfect,” I assured him. “Besides, I plan on spending most of my time out on the deck, anyway.”

That made him smile. “Then I guess that’s where we should head next.”

I nodded in agreement and hit the light again. On our way down the hall he pointed out which of the other three doors was the bathroom, but I had no clue which one of the remaining two led to
his
room. It didn’t matter; I was just curious.

“There’s not a lot of lighting out here, but the moon usually does a good enough job when it’s clear like this.”

He was absolutely right about that. With the city out of sight, there was no light interference from the buildings and streetlights to dilute the beautiful, silver glow of the moon. I was speechless as the waves rolled over one another, creating a symphony of splashes that moved with the ebb and flow of the tide. The lounger at my right, the one with the fluffy, taupe cushion, was practically calling my name. Matt caught me eyeing it and insisted that I sit. When I did, I wanted to stay there, not just all night, but until it was time to return to Lindmore. I had everything I needed—the ocean, a comfy chair, and my best friend.

“Sit with me,” I said. A wayward yawn distorted the words, but Matt understood me anyway, sitting like I asked him to. My eyes left him and went back to the ocean.

“I don’t know how you leave this spot. Ever.”

That velvety laugh hit the air again. “The view definitely has that effect on me, too, at times.”

I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, wanting to savor the smell of the salt water just a little while longer.

“Anything in particular you wanna eat tonight?” he asked just as my eyes drifted closed. My earlier decision to request a grilled cheese came to mind and that was what I told him. He was happy to oblige, although he asked twice if I was sure I didn’t want something else, something that required a little more effort and a few more ingredients, but my mind was made up.

He got ready to stand from his seat, headed for the kitchen to cook, when I placed a hand on his, barely lifting my lids to look at him. “Thank you for bringing me here,” I said on the tail end of another yawn, finally realizing that I needed this.

One corner of his mouth hitched up into a smile and he placed his other hand on top of mine. “Thank you for not fighting me this time.”

His response made us both laugh, but there was an air of truth to his words; I
had
fought him. For a while, actually. However, now that I was here, I wondered what had taken me so long. A look of contentment came over Matt’s face and I found myself having a change of heart.

Maybe this, my being here, wasn’t as bad an idea as I thought.

Chapter Three

Matt

The phone only rang once. Nick answered sounding as if my call startled him out of his sleep, although it was well past seven in the evening where he was in Lindmore.

This seemed to be the case the last few times I tried to get ahold of him, actually. He’d answer sounding groggy and then he’d blow me off almost immediately after, saying something about it not being a good time. I imagined those were hard to come by for him nowadays—good times, that is.

“Let me call you back in a few,” were the words he greeted me with, which was pretty much what I was expecting to hear.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Get the hell up, man!” I yelled, causing the guy beside me at the stoplight to stare.

Nick groaned and breathed into the phone, frustration growing. I knew exactly what was going on without having to ask, but that was all the more reason for him to get it together sooner rather than later. The sleeping all day was the result of late nights out and heavy drinking. Was he going through a lot? Yeah, but he had to pull himself out of this.

He’d been spiraling ever since the divorce proceedings started. Mel, his soon-to-be ex-wife, was on the warpath. They never should’ve gotten married in the first place if you ask me, but that’s neither here nor there. In the end, all he had to show for it was a failed marriage, an empty bank account, and a woman he turned cold and bitter with his cheating. Naturally, Mel was using this divorce as a means of beating Nick down into the dirt, which our sister, Noemi, thoroughly believed he deserved. However, the rest of my family—Luke, my parents, and Granddad—were trying not to take sides. While we all agreed that, yes, Nick brought this on himself; our general goal was to get him through this in one piece, with his sanity intact.

He and Mel had been one half of the documentary that finally got me noticed. My predictions about the pair came to mind as I drove, closing the distance between myself and my agent’s office. I was spot-on. I said from the beginning that Luke and Lissy would be the happier couple, but in the back of my mind I hoped they could
all
make it work. Never in a million years would I have wished this on Nick.

Hell… Mel either.

“Dude… I’m taking a nap. Call you later,” Nick protested again, and while he spoke I slipped the tie from around my neck and tossed it to the passenger seat, no longer needing it since the interview was over.

“Taking a nap?” I asked quickly, trying to catch him before hanging up. “It’s four p.m. my time, seven yours. Odd time for a nap, don’t you think?”

His only response was another deep breath into the phone. Listening to him get his bearings straight, I couldn’t help but to wonder how long he’d be stuck here, in this state of mind. It wasn’t even the death of the marriage he was mourning; he didn’t love Mel. In fact, he told her as much during one of their arguments. This led me to believe that this slump was because she’d hit him where it hurts: in his wallet.

Nick hadn’t said anything to me about it, but Luke filled me in on some of the details. My guess was that Nick didn’t want me to look at his telling me how bad off he was as a subtle way of asking for a handout; however, I did spring into action when I heard. He was about to get kicked out of the one-bedroom apartment he got when he and Mel split, so I paid his rent up for a year behind his back. He reamed me for it when he first found out what I’d done, but came back when emotions weren’t so high and thanked me. Although, he didn’t have to; I’d like to think he would do the same for me if I was ever in his shoes.

He was struggling in more ways than one. His silence on the other end of the phone was another indicator of that. “Listen, man, I’m not tryna bug you,” I explained. “Just wanted to check on you, make sure you were all right.”

The words hung in the air for a bit, going unanswered, but then he cleared his throat and replied. “I’m fine. Quit worrying.”

“How’s the job hunt going?” I asked, ignoring his comment; of course I was gonna worry. Shortly after Mel filed for divorce and put Nick out, she made it a point to get him fired from the IT position he held with a company in downtown Lindmore. He’d just transferred there about a week before, so when he was absent two days in a row so soon, they let him go. They didn’t care that those missed days were the result of Mel reporting Nick’s car, which was in her name, stolen. The story I got was that he spent a couple nights in jail when they picked him up in it. Had his year been rough? Yeah, but… you know what they say about karma.

“No one’s calling, but I’m still applying, okay?” he answered, sounding annoyed. “Are we done now?”

We weren’t, but I pulled into the parking structure and would be losing reception soon, anyway. “For now, but I’ll ring you back in a bit.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, probably headed back to sleep.

The call ended and I found a parking space, easing out of my suit jacket first before stepping out of the truck. As I closed in on the crosswalk that connected the structure to the office building beside it, I undid a couple buttons on my dress shirt and rolled it to my elbows. Today was much hotter than the day before.

Sandy, Cliff’s receptionist and wife, greeted me with a smile when I walked in. “Well if it isn’t my second favorite person in the whole world!”

I smiled back. “Hey, how’s it going, Sandy?”

Her answer was a finger aimed at the stack of papers off to the side of her monitor. Normally, I’d
never
be so casual with someone I interacted with professionally, but the waiting room was empty today and Sandy and Cliff were different. They weren’t like the others out here—stuffy, preying on the weak, self-serving. They were genuine, caring people.
Good
people. I considered myself fortunate to have lucked up on them per Mara and Dean’s suggestion. They, too, were signed with Cliff and only had good things to say.

“That husband of yours sent me a text about an hour ago and said he needed to speak to me. He in?” I asked, approaching the expensive, mahogany desk Sandy sat behind.

She glanced down at the appointment book, running her manicured finger across the row. “He’s free for now, but he’s got a meeting in twenty minutes. I’ll buzz to let him know you’re here.”

I nodded once and stepped aside to let her do just that, and then headed down the hallway toward Cliff’s office when she said it was okay to.

I knocked twice instead of barging in, prompting a gruff laugh from Cliff as he told me to enter.

“You could’ve just come right on in, you know. Not like I wasn’t expecting you.”

I shrugged and then eased into a seat across his desk. “Just force of habit,” I explained. “There were a lot of people in the house when I was growing up. You learn real quick not to just rush in on people—especially with brothers. Never know what you might walk in on. Trust me,” I added with a laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Cliff had a wide grin on his face as he leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. This guy was typically pretty happy, but today he was downright excited.

“What’s up?” I asked, hoping he’d spit it out. Not only was I anxious about whatever had him walking on air, my patience was just about nonexistent today, knowing Brook was at my place alone on her first day in town. This, being gone from sunup to sundown, wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked her to come here. The last message I wanted to send was that I didn’t have time for her.

Cliff let out a deep breath first before finally looking me in my eye again, that grin still set on his face. “Well… you want the good news first or the
great
news? You pick.”

“Hit me with the great,” I shot back, laughing a bit at how giddy he was. I’d never seen him like this.

Another breath and then I was finally let in on part of the secret. “I heard from Glastenburg this morning.”

My ears perked up at mention of the man who first believed I had what it took to make it in film, aside from my old professor who connected me to him. It was Glastenburg who fronted me the money to make things happen.

“And get this,” Cliff went on. “He wants more. More of you, more of your family, more of your film.”

I ran a hand through my hair and inched forward in the seat. “Are you… are you
serious
?” I couldn’t believe it. Since arriving here, I’d done a fair share of promoting my documentary, interviews, worked the sidelines of some popular shows, and even a few indie films, but this… Glastenburg wanted more of my baby—the project driven by passion even when others thought the idea was crazy.

“Serious as a heart attack,” Cliff answered. “Not that you’d need to, but you have a little while to think about it because he’s got some other stuff wrapping up in production over the next few months, but… this could be it, Matty!”

I laughed. He only called me Matty when he got really worked up; over good stuff, over bad stuff, but this was definitely good.

“I mean… what’s he looking for? Did he give you any details?” My mind was already reeling, figuring out how to approach Luke and Lissy with the idea. There was a chance they’d be a little resistant because Destiny, their little girl, was in the picture now, but I was sure I could convince them.

Cliff sipped from the bottle of water resting at the corner of his desk before answering. “He didn’t give me much to go on—sounded like there were a lot of people around him, all talking at once—but seems like the gist of it is one of those
‘where are they now’
kind of things. You know, catching up with the stars of the film a few years later—your brothers, their wives.

And just like that, the excitement was drained from my body. He wanted me to do a film catching the public up with my brothers… both of them. That would’ve been fine if one of the two wasn’t currently on a quick downslide that none of us could seem to slow no matter how hard we tried. I couldn’t do that to Nick, couldn’t exploit him during such a low point. There was no way I’d even be able to ask his permission to film his life in shambles like it was. I hadn’t filled Cliff in on any of the details of Nick’s life, so he’d have no way of knowing what a bad idea this was.

“It’ll be great!” he went on. “We could get some footage of the family together on holidays, maybe plan to film off and on over the next year or so, which would mean a lot of travel back and forth for you with all the stuff you have going on here, too, but you’re young, so—”

“I can’t do it.” The words fell from my mouth and the weight of them stilled the room.

Cliff cocked his head to the side. “I’m sorry? Did you just say you can’t do this?” When I nodded he went on. “Uh… maybe you misheard me, but—”

“I heard you,” I clarified, taking a deep breath while I tried to put the words together. “Now just isn’t a great time to film everyone. Certain members of my family have…
personal
stuff to deal with.”

He was still confused.

I’d have to give him more information, although I really didn’t want to. Nick’s circumstances were bad. The fewer people who knew what a wreck he was, the better.

“One of my brothers, Nick… he and his wife are going through a divorce. He’s just not in a good place and—”

“Say no more,” Cliff cut in. We both sat in silence; me watching as his eyes roamed over the surface of his desk in thought. “What about the other brother, uh…” Cliff snapped his fingers several times trying to recall his name. “Luke! What about him and
his
wife? Things good on the home-front there?”

I nodded; I’d never seen Luke happier.

“Good. That’s a start. Give me some time to fill Glastenburg in on the circumstances, maybe set up a meeting between you two, and we’ll see what we can do.”

I think he saw the solemn look on my face because the next thing he said was, “Don’t worry about it, Matty. We’ll work something out.”

And I believed he’d try, but I didn’t believe Glastenburg would bite. He was looking for the same magic that bled through my footage with the first film. I got that it’d be hard to recreate that with a whole half of the film’s stars missing. Still, though, Cliff said he’d try and I knew he’d give it his all.

A dry, “Thank you,” was all I said in return. With that, I braced my hands on the arms of the chair, but just before hoisting myself up, he stopped me.

“Wait, wait, wait… We discussed the great, but I never got to the good.” He smiled, pointing at my seat, his way of telling me to stay put. “So a little birdy told me Pete Nelson is putting together a film crew for a new project and he still needs a production manager. And this same little birdy told me he’s got his eyes set on
you
to do the job.”

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