Something was wrong with me. Very, very wrong.
And I wouldn’t get better here either.
My eyes moved slowly to the table next to Mama’s chair and I stepped around her as if in a trance. I opened the drawer, my gaze catching on the small, shiny knife my mama had always kept near her for protection, lingering, lingering . . . before I tore my eyes from it, ripped my mind from the thought it’d been moving toward, reaching to the back of the drawer where my mother kept the letters from my aunt. I stared at them for a moment, my heart thumping as I took them all, putting them in the pocket of my jacket.
My Mama remained silent, watching me. “I’m going away for a while. If Preston comes by, tell him I’ve gone, but please don’t tell him where.” I didn’t wait for her answer before pulling the door closed behind me.
I didn’t dare glance back at Linmoor as I drove away. My heart wouldn’t have been able to bear it.
The memory of that night propelled me up and out of bed. But not because thinking about it depressed me—although it did—but because there was something else there . . . something I hadn’t seen all those months I’d been away. When I’d remembered it, I’d remembered the pain, the way the hasty sex against the wall in the foyer had made me feel used and unloved, and the way I’d already been drowning, and that night had seemed like the final shove underwater.
But now, after talking to Preston the day before, I was seeing that night in a different light. I hadn’t known about the fight with Cole. I hadn’t known that Preston had carried the responsibility for Cole’s death on his shoulders all that time in addition to all the other anguish he’d held inside. He was a man with a deeply protective nature. How had it tormented him to feel he was at fault for a situation that caused so much suffering?
I wished we had been in a place where we could have talked about it, but there were so many reasons why we hadn’t. Grief, guilt, confusion, the baby, the farm. I’d never been good at opening up and sharing what was inside me, and the circumstances under which we’d been living certainly didn’t help to encourage what would have been new and terrifying.
But Preston was good at stuffing his own feelings inside, too. Maybe it was part of being one half of a whole, the half that had always seemed content to stay out of the spotlight, to let his twin take the stage. Perhaps he just came by it naturally. Maybe it was part of being a man. I didn’t exactly know. What I did know was that together, we were a recipe for misunderstandings and unresolved hurt. But what I also knew was that if we identified the problem, maybe, oh, maybe we could fix it. At least we could try.
Do you think there’s a chance for us, Lia?
Hope surged inside me.
Make a fuss, mi amor. Make a fuss.
Rosa’s words came back to me, the way she’d said them with such earnest intensity. And a small spark ignited in a place that had never held light or warmth before. I knew what she meant, though she had just been talking about a nametag. She’d meant stand up for yourself, believe in your value. I’d been trying to find it in everyone’s eyes except my own and that’s why it was so easily taken away.
Oh God, I was going to have to figure out how to do that if things were going to work between Preston and me. I was going to have to try, and it scared me half to death because all I knew was how to focus on other people’s needs—even to the detriment of my own. But that hadn’t ever worked for anyone, not really. My mama had become a hermit, hiding away in our apartment unless I dragged her out almost by force, and Preston and I had drifted so far apart, I didn’t know if we could come back together or not.
That was the result of trying to suck it up, trying to please, trying to fade into the background so no one had to be bothered by me, embarrassed by me, forced to associate with me. I sighed. That wasn’t the example I wanted for my son. I wanted to be strong, to make him proud . . . and if at all possible, I wanted to fight to give him a family.
The rain was letting up and the sun was shining through the slats of the blinds on the windows of the apartment, softening the drab ugliness. My mama was stirring, and I moved quickly to the bathroom so I could shower before she got up. I dried my hair and braided it loosely for the sake of ease and then applied a bit of makeup.
I got dressed and went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, taking a cup back to my mama where she had moved to her chair. “I’m going to spend the day with Preston and Hudson, Mama. And then I’m going to come back here and make us dinner. I’m going to tell you all about your sister because I think you want to know even though you won’t ask. You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to, but I’m going to talk and . . . well, that’s that.”
She looked annoyed but her foot bounced the way it did when she was nervous. She didn’t say anything as she took her coffee from my hand and took a sip, looking at me skeptically over the rim of the cup, but not saying no. “Okay then,” I murmured.
I grabbed my purse and left the apartment, making the familiar drive to Preston’s. It was a beautiful early spring day. It was my baby boy’s first birthday.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Preston
My mother breezed into the office where I sat going over some paperwork. “Where’s Hudson?”
I glanced over at the long drapes and nodded my head toward them, raising one eyebrow. “I have no idea,” I said loudly. “He was here a minute ago.”
My mom grinned, taking a step toward the curtains where there was obvious rustling and a baby laugh. “Hmm. Well it seems as if he’s disappeared. You really should watch him more closely. Now I’m going to have to look for him.” Another giggle and more rustling.
My mom took several minutes to pretend to look for him as I went back to my paperwork. Finally she pulled back the curtain and gasped as if in surprise. Hudson let out a delighted burst of laughter. She picked him up and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetness.”
I smiled up at them. My mom could be a snob and a pain in the ass, but she loved her grandson. There was no denying that.
“What are your plans for today?”
“Lia’s coming over, and we’re going to spend the day with her.” I’d actually asked Tracie to come over for a couple of hours and stay with Hudson while he napped so I could take Lia out.
My mom gave me a displeased stare. “Is that really a good idea? What if the baby gets attached to her and she leaves again? Oh Preston, you have to think of your son.”