He nodded. A short jerk of his head.
“I hated my father,” she told him while she cleared away the dishes. “He left my mother for another woman and I never saw him again. Years later, his new wife walked out on him and my mother had died. I was living with a cousin and going to school. Dad called wanting to speak to me. I refused.” She stacked the plates together. “He died two days later in a car wreck.” She smiled sadly. “Maybe he wanted to apologize, or try to explain what he’d done. I won’t ever know. He didn’t leave a will or anything in writing. It’s like a story that has a beginning and a middle, but no end. I’ll always wonder what he wanted to say.” She picked up the plates. “I lost my chance. You haven’t lost yours, yet.” With that, she walked back into the kitchen.
He went into the living room and sat down. He turned on the television to a news program, but he wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying. He was thinking about what Delsey had said.
He’d hated his mother for years, blamed her for what he’d overheard. She’d said that Ren was cold and cruel like his father, that he was nothing like Randall’s sweet father, whom she’d loved with all her heart.
Ren had tried to tolerate her. He visited her home infrequently when he was in college, mainly to see his brother. He loved Randall. They were very different, but the younger man had a heart of pure gold. Ren had been happy to give him an interest in the ranch, to see him grow into a fine, solid businessman who was an asset to the ranch. The only thing about his brother that he really disliked was the way he used women.
Ren hadn’t seen his mother since he’d walked out. He’d been in his last year of college. It had been Christmas. He’d hated the holiday ever since. He didn’t tolerate it in his house. Delsey, of course, had a Christmas tree in her room. His cowboys celebrated, too, with colored lights on their small houses and presents for their children under the tree. He’d wanted to outlaw any celebrations on his ranch, but Delsey had reminded him that he didn’t have the right to tell people what to believe. She’d been kind, but firm. Didn’t he remember when his mother and father used to take him to church? she’d asked softly.
He did. He hated the memory. It was when they were a family. He’d sit in his dad’s lap and “drive” the car down the long road to the house. His father held the steering wheel, of course. Those had been bright, happy days. So soon over.
He remembered his father yelling at his mother for being unfaithful with his best friend, sleeping with a man when she was still married to him. His father had gone almost mad with the pain. His mother had said she was sorry, but she loved the other man and she was leaving and taking Ren with her.
That had led to a vicious custody battle, but his mother had won. The judge had felt that a boy’s place was with his mother. Ren had hated her for taking him away. He’d hated the other man, whom she’d married when the divorce was final.
Randall’s father had been kind. Probably kinder than a rebellious ten-year-old deserved. He’d tolerated the icy glares, the sullen temper, the lack of words. Ren hadn’t spoken a single word to him that wasn’t forced out of him. His mother had despaired.
But then Randall had been born. And Ren had changed overnight. The baby fascinated him. He loved to look at him, to watch him. He was crazy about him from the beginning. He helped his mother with feedings, and he watched the baby while she shopped; he absolutely loved Randall.
That had continued as the baby grew into a toddler, and then a preschooler. Ren was in college by the time Randall was in elementary school, and when he graduated, Randall was in the audience with his mother and father. Ren’s father wasn’t there, because he didn’t have the price of a bus ticket. But he’d phoned Ren, to express his pride.
That had brought back the memories, and they weren’t good ones, of why he and his mother were living with Randall’s dad. Ren’s father had lost his whole family, all at one time. He’d grieved for years.
That Christmas, after graduating in the spring with his bachelor’s degree, Ren had started work on his master’s, paying for it with scholarships, because he had a brilliant mind. He was living in the dorm, and he’d come home just to see Randall, whose father had died two years previously.