“It’s a part of my life I’d rather forget,” I admit. “It wasn’t easy.”
He holds my chin and searches my gaze. “It made you who you are. It was shitty, and painful, and I can see how it created a distance with your mom. But it’s over now.”
My breath stutters, but I want him to know more. I want him to know everything about me. “When Gail was… insulting me…” I look at the gardens and find the courage to continue talking “…this memory came back to me out of the blue.” In as few words as possible, I tell Noah the danger I’d been in with my stepfather, what I narrowly escaped.
His eyes are full of danger, sadness, and revolt. He’s struggling to keep it together.
“I used to feel dirty for it,” I say. “But I don’t anymore. Fuck that. Right?”
Noah leans his forehead against mine. “I’m gonna need… a lot of time to process that. And I never want to be okay with it. But all I’ll say is… let me kill your pain with my love.”
forty-two
Noah
Willow says she’s fine, but she’s not. It’s in the faint tremor of her voice. In her forced smile. In her brief intakes of air as she squares her shoulders against the world.
At least her body’s shaking is reduced to a base buzz as she relaxes against me. I wrap her tighter in my arms, willing all the hurt to leave her. Her childhood scars might make her who she is, but I won’t let these wounds rip back open.
The kitchen screen door clangs as Lane steps onto the patio, and I let go of Willow with the excuse of adding a couple of logs to the firepit and starting the barbecue. I’m livid at how Gail treated my wife, but I don’t want to discuss this with my siblings. It’s too close to what I’ve kept from them.
Hopefully the grapevine isn’t as bad as I imagine, and—
“So much for hiding from Gail at the spa!” Lane exclaims. She sets a dish on the table then wraps Willow in a quick hug. “Areyou going to have PTSD for the rest of your life?” Grapevine fully functional.“I heard Grace was so badass!”
Willow’s distress from seconds ago is gone, and instead there’s pure glee. “Ohmygod she was the best.” Her voice rings warm and free, releasing part of my anxiety.
Whatever Grace did, I owe her.
The moment is cut short by the barn door slapping shut. Beck stomps toward us, brow furrowed, Muffin yapping and lolloping to meet him. Becks scratches the pup’s head, then strides my way and drops a six-pack on the table. “I’ll get the meat,” he grunts.
We grill together, Beck’s unusual silence welcome as I try to come to terms with Willow’s confession, while mapping out the possible reasons and outcomes for Gail’s presence in Emerald Creek.
Throughout dinner, Willow and Lane are the only ones talking. Shadows of the bonfire play on my wife’s soft features as she sweetly encourages my sister in her puzzling job search. I want to push Lane to be more logical in her life choices, but for whatever reason she’s stressed, and the couple of times I’ve tried to broach the topic of her next steps, she broke down crying.
Willow, however, manages to have a whole conversation that actually seems to make Lane feel better about herself.
“Everything okay?” I finally ask Beck. It’s not like him to not have anything to say.
He narrows his gaze on me. “I dunno. You tell me.”
The women stop talking, eyes on us. “Beck,” Lane whispers. The evening shifts from lighthearted to loaded in that one word from one Irish twin to the other. These two have something going on and are having a quiet argument about whether to keep it from me or not.
“What?” Beck snaps. “Did you wonder to ask why Gail is here? Why she’s stirring shit?” He’s asking Lane but looking at me. “Maybe Noah wants to explain what’s going on.”
Lane’s eyes widen. “That’s not necessary.”
“I’ll clear the table,” Willow mumbles as she stands.
“I think you should stay,” Beck barks, his gaze locked on me. “This concerns you, Willow.”
Lane sets a comforting hand on my wife’s forearm. “Of course! Anything in the family concerns Willow.”
“Beck,” I warn. If he’s figured it out, surely he understands it can’t come out. Not now, and probably not ever.
Beck clenches his jaw. “I tried to understand. Tried to put myself in your shoes. And sure, I get everything you did for us, back in the day. But this is too far. You shouldn’t have kept us in the dark.”
Cold runs down my back as I scramble to say something.
