Page 98 of This Kind of Forever
When I look at Hallie’s painting, I freeze. It looks identical, like the photo has come to life. Even the orange tabby on the steps.
“You’re incredible,” I tell her, voice full of awe and pride. Now I know how Luke must feel when he talks about Delilah’s photography.
“Do you think they’ll like it?” she asks.
“Baby, they’ll love it.” A vibration against my hand catches my attention, and I look at Hallie’s phone again. “This has been ringing off the hook since I got home.”
Her smile slips, and she reaches out, taking the device. Her shoulders slump. “Sorry. I would’ve put it on silent before, but I figured she’d stop after I didn’t call her back yesterday. I…need to block her.”
She doesn’t seem surprised by this behaviour, and that doesn’t sit right with me. I know her relationship with her mom has always been complicated, but this seems extreme.
“Is your mom usually this…insistent?”
“Worse, actually. She’ll go months without saying a word, then suddenly, she’ll get the urge to see me.” She huffs a laugh, though it lacks humour. “Foolishly, I used to look forward to those moments.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s foolish, to want a relationship with your parent. Either one of them.”
When Hallie looks up at me, her eyes are glassy. “It is when every time you try, you end up getting hurt. It’s always the same. She misses me, we agree to meet up, she either convinces me to loan her cash or flat out steals it, and then she’s gone. And while she is here, every conversation leads back to her and how hard done by she is.”
Amanda Foster is certainly not known for being the greatest mother, butstealingfrom your kid? That’s low.
“She’s the reason I’m scared during storms. It’s not because of the thunder or lightning, or the rain like Delilah. It’s thewind.” I take Hallie’s hand, giving her something to hold on to as she opens up to me. “An old tree fell on our house when I was a kid, back when it was just me and Amanda. It broke my window, and the glass scratched up my arms and some of my face. I was terrified. She wasn’t evenhome.”
“How old were you?” I ask. My voice has a hard edge.
“Seven,” she whispers.
I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone more than I hate Amanda. Hallie was only a year older than Abbie is now. I can’t imagine leaving my daughter home alone like that.Anythingcan happen when kids are left to their own devices. I know that better than anyone.
“Come here.”
I pull Hallie toward me, and when I sit on the edge of the bed, I pull her into my lap. She comes willingly, wrapping herself around me. I’d hold her here forever if that would take all her pain away.
“Amanda lost her mom when she was pretty young,” Hallie says. “It was really sudden. A ruptured brain aneurysm. And I think, after that, she never felt whole. She blamed Pops for a lot, for only raising her halfway. That’s why she couldn’t be a good mom to me, she’d say. But if I had to guess, I’d say it hurt too much for her to try. She didn’t want that relationship with me because she never got to experience it fully herself.”
“That’s why you wanted a relationship with Kevin,” I say, putting the pieces together.
“On days when Amanda made me really mad, I’d sit in my room and blame it all on her.Shewas the reason my dad didn’t want me.Shemade him move out of town.Shewas the reason henever tried to reach out. But if I thought about it hard enough, wished on all the stars, maybe he’d hear me and come anyway. Take me away.”
“Hallie,” I say, pained.
She swipes at a lone tear. “Of course, it’s not all her fault. She knew he was married, and I’m sure she wasn’t rainbows and sunshines to deal with when they broke things off, but he could’ve fought for me if he wanted.”
“He’s trying now.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “He’s trying now.”
For a few minutes, we sit in silence. It’s grown even darker outside, bathing the backyard in night. My gaze roams the guesthouse, taking in the changes Hallie has made. It’s a far cry from what it used to look like. Now it looks like someone could actually comfortably stay out here—once I get the plumbing fixed.
“Do you think people can change?” she asks quietly.
I think for a moment. “I think, as a general rule, people are complicated. Nothing is purely black and white, good and bad. So yeah, Foster, I think people can change. If they want it bad enough.”
“Am I making a mistake?”
I run my fingers through her hair. “With what?”
“Trying to make things work with Kevin. I mean, it’s been twenty-eight years. Is it too late?”
