Page 100 of When You Were Mine

“Yeah, I don’t think it works like that. They’ve got four little girls, and it’s pure chaos at their house. I thought if I jumped right in—you know, babysat, changed diapers, made dinner—I’d become part of the family. But I’m not. I’m a guest who gets in the way.” He laughed like it was a joke.

But she nodded as if understanding where he was coming from. “You don’t know how well I can relate. I’m on the outside too. They’re immediate family, and I’m… not. Don’t get me wrong. I know they love me and want me around. It’s just that I’m the aunt, the sister—I’m not the core family.” She took a sip of beer. “Does your son not trust you yet?”

“I don’t think it’s him. Cole’s a great kid. Totally open and forgiving. I think it’s more about his wife.”

“How so?”

He hesitated. Did he really want to talk about this? He wasn’t going to look good.

“You know, you say you want to get back with me, but that’s never going to happen if you filter out what you tell me.” She watched him carefully. “If you’re not an open book, if you’re picking and choosing which stories to share, then I’m never going to fully trust you. I’m not stupid. You know that, right? I can tell when you’re not being transparent.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all. I think I’m going to makemyselflook like an ass by telling you what my daughter-in-law said about me. It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, goodie.” She rubbed her hands together. “Trevor Montgomery’s not perfect. Give me all the details. Let’s go. Did you fart at the dinner table? Did you steal cake out of the hands of a baby? That’s it, right? You shoved that cake in your mouth while all four teary-eyed little girls sat there and watched?”

“Thank you for creating a safe space for me to share my vulnerabilities.”

She cracked up, flinging a piece of bread at him. “Oh, just say it. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Fine. But first, get that evil gleam out of your eyes.”

She blinked furiously several times. “Is it gone?”

“You’re enjoying this too much.” He held up his hands in surrender. “But, fine. A few months ago, I heard my daughter-in-law say she couldn’t handle one more person in the house.” He was surprised at the hurt it still delivered. “I’d just cleaned the kitchen after dinner, helped with bath time, and read stories to the older two. I felt good, you know? Like I was contributing. So, to find out I was an imposition. It…” His mind blanked as he searched for a word that wouldn’t make him sound pathetic. But then, she wanted the truth, so he gave it. “It hurt. So, I’ve backed off. It sucks, but I’m giving them their space. It’s a big adjustment, going from two to four kids, so I get it. Anyway, at the airport, when I was heading back to Calamity for Christmas, I got a text from my son telling me the kids were all sick.”

“And you took that as code for ‘Don’t come. We want to spend Christmas by ourselves, as a family?’”

His gaze cut to her.How did you know that?

“It’s no surprise you’d hear it that way.” She smiled. “Your parents were martyrs. They made you feel like an imposition your entire life.”

“I don’t know if it was that bad.” But even as he said it, he knew Elzy was right.

“Oh, come on. They paid the farmhands—which was the right thing to do—but at the expense of their own health and well-being. They lived and died by their principles.”

He couldn’t argue about that.

“Remember, I worked in the feedstore, so I heard all the gossip. And you were a big topic of conversation.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you were this happy, confident boy who’d show up to school in jeans that didn’t fit. The soles of your shoes flapped. And they were all upset because there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to help.”

“Did anyone talk to my parents?”

“Oh yeah. For sure. The church ladies spent a lot of time trying to convince them of the damage they were doing to you.”

“I wouldn’t call itdamage.” Although maybe it was time to stop defending their actions and see his parents for who they really were.Maybe that’s how the healing begins.

“Really? You were a growing boy, and they fed you nothing but tomatoes and bread for an entire summer. And when the community wanted to help, your parents wouldn’t let them. In fact, if you had new shoes, it would mean they were vain and self-focused. You were living proof that they were ‘good’ people.”

“You never told me this.”

“That’s because I’m only putting it together right now. But even as a kid, I can remember how it felt when I came over. Your dad was either outside working or in his office. When your mom asked if she could fix me a plate, she had this pained expression like she was dreading my answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her eyes begged me to say no. They were both exhausted and didn’t want to be bothered with anything outside of the farm, their chores, and the basics of life. My point is, I felt like just being in their house was an imposition.”

---