Free The Good Father by Tara Taylor Quinn

up with the words he’d say to protect Ella’s secret, while proving to her that she was wrong about Jeff, that he’d missed the other side of this story.
    “You and Ella getting back together?” Jeff asked, lifting his beer can in a toast before sipping. How a guy could drink through a grin plastered from one side of his face to the other, Brett didn’t know, but Jeff managed it.
    “No!” Brett’s response was emphatic. Strong. Because it had to be. “No way, man. Don’t even go there. She just asked me to look in on you. She’s worried. Like I said.”
    Jeff nodded. Still grinning. “Well, whatever, I’m sure as hell glad you’re here. I’ve missed you, man.”
    Brett had missed Jeff, too. Far more than he’d allowed himself to realize.
    So when Jeff asked if he could stick around, grill some steaks, maybe shoot some pool later, offering him the bed in the guest room, Brett agreed to stay.
    Not for Ella. Or Chloe.
    But because, for the first time in years, he felt as if he’d come home.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    E LLA WAITED ALL day to hear from Brett.
    He didn’t call, text or email.
    On her way home from work, she drove by his house. If she saw his black BMW in the driveway, or saw him outside, she might stop. If it felt right.
    There were no vehicles in his driveway. And no one in his yard, either. The shades were drawn. Used to be something he did only when he was going to be gone until after dark. And then there would be lights programmed to turn on before he got home.
    It wasn’t that he was afraid of the dark. No, that would be more like her.
    Brett just hadn’t liked walking into gloom.
    Most particularly not in his home.
    Funny, the things you remembered.
    He’d said, when she’d left him in the parking lot the night before, that he was going to be home all weekend. She’d been left with the impression that speaking with Jeff was going to be his first priority. He’d said something about wanting to make contact before going back to work on Monday. He had a crazy week coming up.
    But then, when didn’t he?
    Brett had always worked harder than anyone she’d ever known.
    He’d said he’d contact Jeff. So he would.
    Now she would move on. There was no way she was going to let Brett linger in her mind during the two days off she had ahead of her. She and Chloe were going to shop, swim in the complex’s heated pool, watch a movie they’d both missed in the theater and look at some houses. They were going to take Cody to the park, to get chicken nuggets and to pick out his first, toddler-approved learning computer.
    All without any thoughts of Brett Ackerman.
    * * *
    I T HAD BEEN a long time since Brett had shot pool. Since before he’d married Ella. Jeff cleared the table on him the first game.
    But by the third, Brett was holding his own again. They were playing best of ten for the fifty-dollar bill sitting on one corner of the table. Eight ball. His call on the game. Next ten would be Jeff’s preference.
    Taking a sip of beer from one of the two bottles sitting open on the bar, Brett assessed the fourteen balls remaining on the table.
    “So what’s with Chloe?” he asked, bending to take a shot that, if properly executed, would leave his cue ball perfectly positioned to put the twelve ball in the corner pocket.
    He made the shot. Exactly as planned. And was rounding the table to get set for the next hit as Jeff said, “I pray to God it’s just more of the postpartum depression she went through after Cody was born.”
    He shot. Well. Then, cue stick suspended, he glanced over at his friend. “I didn’t know Chloe suffered from depression. Is she on medication?”
    “Not anymore. And she was only depressed after Cody was born. The doctor said it just happens sometimes, part of the hormonal changes after a woman gives birth.”
    “So, like, what did she do? Cry all the time?” It was important that he knew the facts. Proper assessments relied on them. And he was there to help.
    “That,