Brady relaxed at the change to a safer, less sexually objectifying and insulting subject. “It’s always nice to hear about two people sticking it out that long. Stephen’s parents are the same. Ellen said she knew the minute he took her hand that he was the one. They’ve been together close to forty years and they still act like lovesick teenagers.”
“Yes, I know, Stephen Finn has the perfect family bio for political campaigns.” Cal narrowed his brown eyes on Brady. “His parents…but not yours?”
Brady tensed and sent him a look of disbelief. “I think you already know the answer to that, Mr. Oppo Research.”
Cal looked uncomfortable. “You’re a Finn and the senator’s cousin, of course I know. I just didn’t want you to think I investigate my dates as a rule. Besides, I’d rather hear your take on it.”
“So would I,” Ken murmured close to his mic. “But you don’t share your secrets unless you’re rum-drunk.”
Brady slid his hand away from Cal’s and took another drink of water. “My take isn’t that much different from what’s on paper.”
“I doubt that. Your father raising six boys on his own while working as the Chief of police? It sounds like you’d have a lot of stories.”
Brady sent Cal a look that made him squirm. “Solomon the Elder had a knack for keeping men in line. He wasn’t that good at keeping women happy. Nobody’s perfect.”
Three wives had proven that, though no one could say he hadn’t done the right thing by them. Six months after Uncle Shawn married Ellen, Sol had found himself the groom in a genuine shotgun wedding, complete with a pregnant, crying bride and angry father-in-law. Donna had given birth to Solomon Jr. and James, and then she had second thoughts about her husband. She’d tried to take the boys when she left but Sol wouldn’t stand for it. The Finn name was his to protect after his father and grandfather had done their best to ruin it. The boys were Finns and they would grow up knowing the value of that name. That was all that mattered.
Not too long after that, a statuesque pageant winner with auburn hair and perfect pedigree had gotten to ride in a parade car with the divorced but still dashing officer. When Rose became pregnant, her parents threatened to disown her if she married Sol, which of course had sent her straight into his arms. She’d been young and sweet and in no way ready to become an instant housewife to a distant man or the mother of three wild toddlers. Sol had had a meeting with her parents and their lawyer and come to an arrangement.
“Your mother… She signed away her visitation rights and moved to Paris, right? That must have been hard.”
Wishing Cal would start talking about his timeshare again, Brady sent him a look of warning. “Not on me. I was too young to remember.”
“Brady.” Ken’s voice was like a tender kiss. “Are you okay?”
It was an old ache, knowing she’d let her parents agree to give Sol full custody in exchange for a quickie divorce. But his mother hadn’t disappeared from his life entirely. When Brady was old enough, she’d started writing to him once a week, posing as a pen pal so Sol wouldn’t forbid the communication. Each letter had been warm and loving and full of all the laughter his regimented house was lacking. He’d lived for those letters. A few years ago, after she died, he’d found out she’d left him not only the healthy inheritance he’d been living off of since he got out of the service, but also her home in Paris. He’d never been to see it, and he hadn’t told Sol about it either. The old man hadn’t even let her send Christmas presents, so Brady could only imagine how he would react if he knew about the house. It wasn’t something he was ready to face.
“The third wife lasted longer, though.” Was Cal trying to lighten the mood? Why wouldn’t he let this go? “The last three boys are all hers, right? And they might have stayed together if she hadn’t…”
Wyatt and Noah’s mom had died from complications while giving birth to Rory. But she wouldn’t have lasted either. Laney had handed Sol divorce papers a few hours before she went into labor. Brady was six at the time, but he still remembered the shouting match they’d had that day.
“I’m not her. Stop comparing me to her!”
He looked at Cal’s wide eyes and shook his head ruefully. “Look, this is a little personal, Calvin. I know I didn’t give you much choice since I suck at small talk. I’m sorry. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Don’t be sorry, please. I was the one prying. I’m eager to know everything there is to know about you.” Cal definitely sounded eager. “My work is full of small talk, socially acceptable topics and twisted truths. I want all the messy details on Brady Finn. Like, why would you decide to stay at your cousin’s house instead of going back to your family home? Why haven’t you gone back to your old job on the force? What happened to you overseas that seems to make you so sad when you think no one’s looking? I have to know the real you.”