Della’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I know you would have benefited. Lord, Rice would have been a wonderful father to you.”
Frustration slammed into him. “Then why? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I was ashamed,” she blurted out. “And I was scared. You were fifteen, and you and your brothers had already been so negatively impacted by Henry’s behavior. The four of you grew to hate him, and I was scared that if you knew the truth, you might hate me too.”
As two fat teardrops seeped out and streamed down her cheeks, Austin’s heart constricted with agony.
“Hey, don’t cry,” he said gruffly, reaching across the table for her hand.
The gesture only caused the tears to fall faster. She squeezed his hand tightly, her anguished gaze locking with his. “I didn’t want you to think less of me. I slept with my husband’s brother, Austin. Henry had already alienated you and Nate and the twins. I didn’t want you to become disgusted or disillusioned with me too.”
He stifled a sigh and swept his thumb over her knuckles. “I probably would’ve been upset, angry even, but I could never hate you, Mom.”
“You mean you don’t hate me now?” Her voice wobbled as she posed the question.
“Of course not.”
She sighed. “But you’re still angry with me.”
He couldn’t lie, but he did try to focus on the positive. “I’m trying not to be, if that helps. I mean, I keep coming home even though a part of me wants to take off and never come back.”
“I know it’s hard for you to be here.” She visibly swallowed. “And I really am glad you’re home, sweetie. I hope that means you’re willing to let me be part of your life again.”
A lump rose in his throat. “Like I said, I’m trying.”
An awkward silence stretched between them. Austin sipped his coffee. His mom sipped her herbal tea. Neither of them spoke for nearly a minute, until he finally cleared his throat.
“Uh, I brought something to show you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, then slid it across the table.
Della wrinkled her forehead as she picked up the paper. She slowly unfolded it, read the neatly typed words on the page, and gasped.
“Oh sweet Lord! My baby got nominated for a Pulitzer!”
He had to smile. “Don’t get too excited. I didn’t win.”
“How many other photographers were considered?” his mother demanded.
“I’m not sure, depends on who submitted an entry. Hundreds, thousands?” he estimated.
“And how many final?”
“There’s one winner, and two finalists. Runner-ups, I guess.”
Triumph exploded in her gaze, mingling with the pride shining there. “And you were one of the two finalists! In my book, that’s an incredible accomplishment. Which photo did you send?”
“The black-and-white shot of the riot in Baghdad.” He shrugged, suddenly feeling bashful. “I think I emailed it to you last year.”
“I remember. That was a stunning photograph.” She smiled wistfully. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. Can I keep this letter so I can frame it?”
He chuckled. “Sure. I have another copy.”
Della reached for her teacup, her expression relaxed for the first time in more than a year. “Now tell me about your recent assignment. Nate said something about Main Streets?”
Austin nodded. “Honestly, it wasn’t as exciting as I would’ve liked, but once Mari joined me, it ended up being kinda fun.”
“Mari…” Della looked thoughtful. “She seems like a sweet girl.”
“She is,” he admitted. “She’s pretty amazing, actually. I mean, she babbles a lot, and she’s got a weird sense of humor, but she’s also got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. She came all the way to Colorado with me because she knew I needed a friend.”
“Friend… Is that all she is to you?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “She’s more than a friend,” he confessed. “But before you ask, I have no idea what’s going to happen with us. Eventually she’ll be going back to Des Moines.”
“And until then?”
“Until then, we enjoy spending time together.”
It was Della’s turn to hesitate. “I’m enjoying spending time with you. It’s been so long since we just sat around and talked. I missed you.”
“I know.” He swallowed that annoying lump in his throat. “I missed you too. But I—”
He was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and then his uncle’s voice wafted into the kitchen.
“Hey Del, sorry for showing up without calling, but—” Rice strode into the kitchen like he lived there, then stopped in midsentence and froze when he spotted Austin. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He glanced at Della. “I took the day off work. Thought I’d come by for a coffee.”
Della shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, but Austin knew his mother was far too good a hostess to turn Rice away. Sure enough, she pushed back her chair and said, “Why don’t you sit down? Let me get you a cup.”