“Just be honest, ‘cause you sound like crap,” he spoke over me.
“My wife of twenty-two years left me, so yeah, I feel like crap,” I snapped.
Ada shot me a look of mock exasperation. “Finally, he’s not pretending he’s okay.”
“Thanks for the support,” I quipped, trying to sound light, though my voice cracked just a little. Still, I saw the humor in it—and more than that, I felt the warmth bloom in my chest as it hit me:Lia had called them. She’d asked them to check on me. One more quiet act of love from a wife who, no matter the distance between us, never stopped caring.
Tristan chuckled. “Look, I know this is rough, but you need to pull yourself together. Mama’s doing what she needs to do.”
I drank some coffee. “So, we’re gonna talk about this?”
“Yeah, Dad, we’re talking about you and Mama.” Ada smiled softly. “You know you’ve been MIA?”
“I know.”
“Why did you even take over the company?” Tristan wanted to know.
“It’s the family legacy,” I protested.
Tristan made a face. “A legacy, by definition, is meant to be passed down to future generations. I’m gonna be honest: neither Ada nor I are interested in Boone Metals or the corporate-slash-business world. I’m thinking about going to law school to become a public defender. But until I figure out my next step, I’m working as a social worker. Ada’s studying public policy—she wants to be a public servant.”
“So, the question is,” Ada picked up from her brother, “who the hell are you working yourself to the bone for? Is it Birdie?”
I sent her a flat, unimpressed stare. “You know it’s not.”
“Then what?” Ada asked, exasperated. “Why is Boone Metals so important that you let it ruin your marriage? I mean…I don’t get the whole family thing, and I grew up in Savannah.”
“Never understood why you kept wanting to keep the peace between Mama and Grandma,” Tristan added.
“I feel like I’m in a therapy session,” I tried for levity.
Tristan huffed out a sharp breath. “Dad, Mama still loves you, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, son, I do. And I love her.”
Desperately.
So, fucking much.
“Look, Dad, no matter what happens between you and Mama, we know that we have two loving parents.” Ada’s eyes filled with quiet affection.
“I know, baby girl.”
“But we’re hoping you’ll stay married because you both are good together,” Tristan interjected. “Don’t get me wrong, neither of you is perfect?—”
“Thank God for that!” I said with feigned mockery.
“Well, Iamperfect,” Ada mused, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Mama and I are going to go to couples counseling,” I informed them because I could see they were worried about their mother and me.
“That’s good.” Tristan nodded approvingly.
Ada studied me for a long moment.
“What?” I asked.
She smirked. “You and I are going to spend today goofing off.”