Page 106 of Every Now and Then
Remembering how Annabelle trembled in my arms, I don’t think I’ve ever felt such deep contempt for anyone as I did for Kyle at that moment. How could he have done this to her? How could he leave his daughters without a father? I grew up without one, and after watchingmy mom struggle throughout my entire childhood, I know just how hard that road is. But Annabelle’s path was even more painful, compounded not only by the challenges of single parenthood, but by the grief and shock from Kyle’s sudden death. She had to navigate that devastation alone, while also guiding her children through it. I'm in awe of her strength.
Then, Kyle’s parting gift was to leave Annabelle a letter outlining the truth, forcing more unwanted burdens upon her. He lied to Annabelle for a decade. Would it have been so hard for him to just remain silent?
That fucking letter. He told Annabelle that she and their daughters had never made him happy, that he had never been in love with her. Why? What was the point of telling her those things? He could’ve taken his secrets to the grave. Instead, he unburdened himself, leaving Annabelle to carry the weight of his truths for the rest of her life. He gave her pain wrapped in honesty, as if that made it noble. How could he have been so selfish?
But I take a deep breath, reminding myself that it isn’t my place to judge Kyle. Having grown up in a small town in the south, I’m familiar with the rampant homophobia that persists, especially in the older generations.
As a wealthy, white, straight guy, it’s easy for me, from my place of privilege, to look down on Kyle for his actions. If our roles were reversed, I don’t know what I would have done.
I understand he was depressed and struggling with his mental health, but I can’t ignore the pain he inflicted on Annabelle, both during their marriage and after.
If I could take away Annabelle’s pain and carry it myself, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t. Instead, I’ll do the best I can to be strong for Annabelle and to support her through this. She’s already worked for ayear in therapy to deal with what she callsKyle’s complicated legacy of grief. She doesn’t need me to carry her anger or fight her battles. She needs me to listen and to love her, both of which are exceedingly easy to do because she's so fucking loveable.
Letting go of the anger is harder, but for Annabelle, I’ll figure out a way.
May need to attend a couple of those therapy sessions myself.
I throw another couple of T-shirts into my duffle bag before zipping it shut. I’ll be here to greet my girls and spend the day with them, but then I’m heading out to the ranch to allow them time to unpack and get moved into the condo without my interference. I’ll be back next week for the album release party, anyway.
When I hear the elevator chime, I race from the bedroom down the hallway and around the corner until I reach the foyer. The cheerful commotion of the three loves of my life greets me, and my earlier black mood lifts.
“You’re early!” I hold out my arms, intending to hug Annabelle, but Claire slides into my embrace first. Bending down, I pick her up and hold her tightly, breathing in her little girl scent of lavender, spun sugar, and chaos, before setting her down.
“Well, things moved a little quicker than expected since you hired movers and people to finish all the packing, Hayes.” Annabelle stands with her hands on her hips, looking chagrined, but it’s all an act.
My hands fall to the inverted curve where her waist meets her hips. “Babe, I’m a steamroller, but I’myoursteamroller, remember?”
She steps into me, wrapping her arms around my neck, whispering, “And I’m damn glad you’re mine, Hayes.”
Grace chirps, “Two dollars, Mom.”
“Grace,” grumbles Annabelle. “We talked about this.”
“Okay, Eagle Ears,” I say, fighting a smile.
“Eagle Ears. That sounds ways cooler than Gertie.” Grace cocks her head. “But do eagles even have ears?”
“Sure, they do. You can’t see their ears, but they have them under their feathers, and eagles have excellent hearing. However, nocturnal birds have even better hearing capabilities than diurnal birds.”
I chuckle. “Simmer down, Jeopardy.”
Claire drops her rolling suitcase in the middle of the floor. Though the movers have most of their things, each girl brought an overnight bag with them, so they won’t have to unpack all their boxes today to find the items they’ll need for the next day or two.
“Can we go swimming now?” Claire asks as she flips open her suitcase to reveal nothing but swimsuits, a bathrobe, and a mountain of children’s books.
My eyes dart to meet Grace’s, and we share a smile. “Mom, did you not check Claire’s bag before we left?”
“Rookie mistake, Annabelle. Ask me how I know,” I tease, feeling lighthearted and more content than I have in years. “I think it’s swimming time, girls. Go get changed.”
As the girls scamper off, I turn to Annabelle. “I’ll take the girls down to the pool to burn off some energy while you wait for the movers. When I talked to them earlier, they thought it would take them about two hours to unload everything at the storage unit, so you’ll have some quiet time to unwind before they’ll arrive at the condo.”
“A little time to decompress sounds heavenly.”
"How'd your last night in the old house go?"
"I assumed I'd only feel relief, but I also felt some sadness. It was surprisingly bittersweet." She slides a strand of hair behind her ear as she purses her lips. "For the past year and a half, I've concentrated onthe bad memories, but once it was time to say goodbye, the good ones filled my mind too."
"Like?" I prod, curious.
