Page 47 of A Lot Like Forever
Nate had been surfing channels for a while and he’d ended up watching a documentary about wolves. Hardly his usual viewing, but he didn’t often just kick back with his feet up, so he wasn’t complaining.
“How long have I been out for?” Faith stretched and repositioned herself, curling into him like a cat.
“I arrived home an hour ago. So a while, I guess.” He smiled down at her, an unusual sensation running through his body. He wasn’t used to feeling content like this with a woman, and it equal parts scared the hell out of him and pleased him. “I couldn’t wait, but I’ve left something of everything for you to try.”
Faith’s stomach made a noise and they both laughed. “I think I need it.”
Nate got up and headed for the table, opening containers. “I got a few different dishes. It’s damn good Thai.”
Faith smiled as she sat down and he joined her. “How was your granddad?”
“Sometimes, like tonight, he seems like his usual self and all I want to do is get him the hell out of Dodge and back home.” Nate shrugged. “Then he loses his breath or the pain comes on so strong and he needs morphine and I realize I’m only kidding myself thinking he’ll ever get back here.”
Faith reached over and touched Nate’s hand. “So this is it for him?”
“That’s why he’s there now.” Nate’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat, reaching for a spare pair of chopsticks that had come in the paper bags. “We waited until we couldn’t keep him home any longer, and he didn’t want to be a burden on us, but I’m starting to think we should just have kitted the ground floor of this place out as a private hospital for him.”
“From what Sam’s told me, he was like a dad to you.” Her voice was soft, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should be asking or not.
Nate didn’t mind; it wasn’t like she was prying. They’d covered a lot of ground since she’d moved in, and he was surprised how much he liked talking to her. Getting information out of him was usually like extracting blood from a stone, but opening up to her wasn’t half-bad.
“As far as I’m concerned, he was my father.Ismy father,” Nate said, poking around at some noodles even though he’d already eaten. Faith was using the chopsticks like a pro and watching her eat was making him hungry all over again. “My own dad was an asshole as far as I’m concerned. I mean, who treats their kids like shit after their mom dies, then walks out when his father-in-law offers him money to leave?”
“Your granddad . . .” Faith had stopped chewing.
“Yeah, he saw how our dad was treating us on a daily basis and offered him money in exchange for signing over custody to him,” Nate told her. “From what I gather, he didn’t even need time to think about it.”
Faith’s mouth had turned down and Nate immediately leaned over to kiss her, smiling at the hotness of her lips when they connected, fresh chili making his mouth tingle as it transferred between them.
“Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. I’m long over what happened. There’s no me lying on a psychiatrist’s couch lamenting over what could have or should have been.”
“But you never blamed your granddad?” she asked. “I mean, don’t you hate what he did?”
Now it was Nate frowning. “Why would I hate him for it? It’s like that adultery Web site for married people. They tried to put the blame on the guy who started it, but he wasn’t forcing anyone to participate. He was providing the platform, not coercing anyone. My granddad didn’t make my father the way he was, but he did make sure he wasn’t around to screw us up, gave him the choice to man up or ship out.”
Faith set down her chopsticks, folding her arms and sitting back in her chair. “For starters, I freakinghatethat Web site and what it did to so many couples, so don’t even get me started, but--”
“Like it or hate it, it’s not the Web site making people cheat. They were going to cheat anyway; the site just makes it easier and a whole lot more honest,” Nate interrupted. “My point is that my dad was an asshole every way you looked at the situation. Offering him an out when he wanted exactly that was the best thing my granddad could have done. He and Grams raised us, and we had this amazing stable family home. The only sad thing that happened was Grams dying, and realizing our dad really didn’t give a crap, because he never once reached out to contact us. He didn’t even both to come to her funeral, and if he comes to Granddad’s I’ll escort him off the property with my shotgun.”
Faith had picked up her chopsticks again, but she was picking now rather than eating with the gusto she had been earlier.
“Do you still remember your mom?”
“Yes,” Nate answered immediately. “I remember the smell of her shampoo and the way she used to turn and look at me. I loved her hair, curling up with her before bed and listening to her read. I was the oldest, so those moments meant everything to me. I had her for longer than the others did, so I remember a lot more.”
Faith’s expression was hard to read, but the fact that she had tears in her eyes wasn’t escaping him. She’d lost her mom, too; he knew all about that because Sam had shared everything with him. He knew how badly she’d hurt, that it had affected her worse than it had Sam, and maybe it was one of the reasons he was telling her what he was. Only his mom had been his world, would never have left them if there was anything she could have done about it.
“I think there’s a reason we understand each other so well. We’ve both lost a lot.”
Her smile was sad. “Yeah, except your mom sounds like an angel and she probably would have traded anything in the world to have more time with you boys.” Faith shrugged and speared a prawn with one chopstick. “Mine couldn’t leave fast enough once she’d gotten us through to what she called anindependentage.”
“You were only thirteen. I remember,” he said, wishing he hadn’t even opened up to Faith, because then they wouldn’t both be dredging up painful memories.
“So am I guessing correctly that the reason you’re so happy being no strings attached is because you’re scared of being hurt by a woman again?”
Nate chuckled. “What is this? Therapy? I thought I told you I didn’t need that shit.”
“No, just putting the pieces together. You loved her, it broke your heart, and you don’t ever want to feel pain like that again. Am I right?”
