Page 67 of Love Me Gently

My brave, beautiful,fightinggirl.

It wasafter my parents left. A quick hug from my mom and a gentle pat on the back from Dad shortly after the kitchen was cleaned up, and then they were out the door. I half expected Trina to head back to her cave downstairs, but instead, she curled up into a corner of the couch. Glass of wine nearby, I noticed she drank them slowly, and by the time she got a refreshed glass, what had to be left in it was too warm to drink.

Which meant she wasn’t drunk by any means, but maybe loosening up and relaxed a bit.

“I forgot how nice your mom was,” she said.

I took the chair on the far side of the room near the fireplace. We’d be getting snow soon and it’d be on every night, but for now it was off with a cool draft coming from it. It was also the farthest away from Trina I could get, but I was too afraid if I moved closer, I’d movetooclose. So there I sat, across from her, and yet she hadn’t run and that alone was progress.

I sipped my beer, my second and last of the night. “They’re good people.”

“She told me your daughters are a handful and a half and that June’s just like you.”

Of course she did. Bragging came with becoming a grandmother. At least it did in Mom’s world. But the last few times she’d brought up my girls, it hadn’t exactly gone well. “Ella’s quiet. She takes everything in. She’s soft-spoken like her mom, but June… she’s…” I sighed and spun the beer in my hands. “She’s having a hard time with the divorce. But she’s only four, so she doesn’t get why I don’t live with Mommy anymore. But yeah, she’s more likely to paint the walls with nail polish or kick a soccer ball through the house window.”

Which she’d done already.

“You get them back Sunday.”

We’d briefly talked about this. “I do.”

“You said only your parents and Marie know I’m in town.”

“That’s true.”

“But you have kids…and kids don’t really keep secrets.”

Ella was a vault. June, on the hand…June had a loud voice that currently had a lot to say about everything. Which made me realize where she was going with this. “Not really, and not well. No.”

She reached for her wine, and her fingers tappity-tap-tapped on the glass. “That means my parents will learn I’m here. Probably quickly.”

Her top lip curled, and then she blew out a breath. “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know if I can see them. I’m not…I don’t…”

Screw the distance. I stood and made my way to the coffee table in front of her. I wasn’t touching her, but I could, and I also realized she didn’t jerk back from my quick movement which was a win in itself.

“My mom called me, and I never, not once, called her back.” Tears. More freaking tears slipped out of her eyes and onto her cheeks.

I worked my jaw back and forth. There was only so much assurance I could give before she needed to start learning truths for herself. “You wrote me letters and I never wrote you back. Do you hate me?”

She blinked in surprise. “You…what?…You remember that?”

Better than remembered…I kept every single one. I kept pictures and mementos and movie stub tickets and all the dumb shit she and I had ever experienced together. “I was still in my angry phase then,” I said, and a slow smirk curled my lips up.

She blinked at me. Twice. Then huffed. “It’s not the same.”

“It’s not,” I agreed. “But your parents are the same people too. Just like my mom was. The only thing that hurts them is not knowing where you are and how you’re doing. I can guarantee you that.”

“I’ll have to do it. Won’t I? Get brave enough to go see them?”

Or have them come here, but I doubted logistics were her question. “If you plan on staying, yeah. And I know you’re going through a lot, but you get it done quickly, and it won’t weigh on you so much either.”

I hoped it brought her some relief, some healing. She’d already come so far in a day. The fact she was evenconsideringseeing them was huge.

“I’ll think about it.”

I relaxed back onto my seat on the coffee table. “Did Mom mention Ashley to you at all?”

“No. I didn’t ask, either.”

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