Page 108 of Roommate
“Jeez.” My mother wipes her eyes. “How did they know?”
I shake my head. “You think I jumped out of the tree to ask?”
“No, of course not.” She sniffs. “So you heard it from a couple of church gossips that I had an affair with a priest.”
“Yeah. Basically.”
The women had said as much. I’d known immediately that it was true. Because whenever my parents had their very worst fights, my father used to end the conflict by yelling, “Just don’t seek solace with the priest.” I’d never understood why he’d say that. Until the day I finally did.
“How old were you?” my mother asks quietly.
“Fourteen.”
“That must have been shocking. I wish you could have told me.”
“How was I supposed to ask questions about it? And I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.”
“Baby, I’m sorry,” she says, as tears track down her face. “Even now it isn’t easy for me to explain. I did a terrible thing. When I got pregnant, I told your father everything. I offered to give him a divorce. But…”
Roderick walks into the room with a box of tissues, sets them down on the coffee table, and walks out again.
My mother grabs one and mops the tears from her face. “Your father decided he didn’t want a divorce. He didn’t want Kyle passed back and forth between us. So we went to counseling. He decided he wanted to be your father, too. And that we would go on as we were before.”
Ouch. “How did that work out?”
“We tried, Kieran. You know there’s tension.”
I snort loudly.
“The thing that you don’t understand is that we loved each other. We had a good marriage before I ruined it, and your dad wanted to try to get that back. But once the trust was gone, it was really difficult.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. There doesn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the world today.
“Your father loves you, Kieran. I believe that with all my heart.”
“That is wishful thinking,” I insist.
“When you were smaller, you two were close,” she says. “He treated you just like he treated little Kyle. But when you were a teenager, you didn’t have as much in common. That’s when you two stopped getting along. And—” She puts her hands together in the prayer position. “I hope that isn’t my fault, too. If you stopped seeing yourself as your father’s child, it probably affected your relationship with him.”
“Yeah, maybe.” But I know she’s right. I was so angry with my ugly secret. I’d spent a lot of time wishing it weren’t true.
“Sorry guys,” Roderick says, entering the room again. “It’s time for a margarita. And the lasagna will be warm soon.”
I look up at him in relief. The conversation was getting heavier than I could bear. “Margaritas?” I ask, glancing at the tray he’s carrying. He’s filled it with three glasses and a pitcher of iced liquid. We never make mixed drinks.
“Well, tequila will always remind me of you, so I bought us a bottle a while back and then forgot to drink it.” He sets the tray on the coffee table. “Mrs. Shipley, would you like a margarita?”
My mother looks between the two of us like she’s trying to untangle a puzzle. “Sure,” she says a beat too late. “Just a half glass, though, because I’ll be driving.”
“I can do that.” He pours her a modest drink and hands her the glass. “Kieran?”
“Hell, yes. Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He looks up from what he’s doing, and our gazes lock. He gives me a smile so warm that I can’t imagine why I wasn’t willing to do anything he asked of me. Roddy is everything. I’m so lucky to have him in my life.
* * *
When my mother leaves, I’m so wiped out that I can hardly keep my eyes open.
