Tears drip down my face.I’m a grown man, but I'm crying like a ten-year-old again. Not for the mother I lost, but the one I never knew.
She was cheating on my father when she died. He must've known. That has to be the reason why he never talks about her. Why we left town in a hurry, why he left so many of our belongings behind. He was furious with her, he didn't want her things. He didn't want to be reminded of her.
I call him, but it rings and rings. I drink coffee that is now cold. It's bitter, but not any more bitter than the truth.
He calls me back twenty minutes later, and I haven't moved.
I hit the speaker button. “Hello?"
"Sorry I missed your call. How's it going?"
"Did you know, Dad?"
He doesn't say anything. Do I need to explain my question? Does he understand just from the tortured sound of my voice?
"Know what, Sawyer?"
Why is he making me say it? Isn't it obvious? "Mom was cheating on you when she died."
He draws in a noisy breath and releases it. "Yes, I knew."
My world spins, tilts, flies off its axis. I can't tell how I feel right now. Anger, sadness, confusion, disgust. I feel tricked, but I don't know why. She cheated on my dad, but in a way, it feels like she cheated on me. On our family. How could she?
"Who was it? Who did she cheat with?”
"Sawyer, I don't think it will benefit you to know."
"Tell me before I start asking around." It's a threat, and it's not empty. "I want the name of the motherfucker." I squeeze my eyes shut after I say it, realizing how sickeningly accurate that word is to this situation.
"I'm warning you, you're not going to want to know."
"Tell me," I say, my teeth pressing together so hard it hurts.
"Beau Hayden."
The phone drops to the table. My ears pound. My vision clouds, black on all sides and tunneling down the middle. I see Beau’s land, his cattle, his extended hand clinking against my glass filled with expensive whiskey as he thanks me. He knew who I was. He knew, at that exact fucking second, who I was. He brought me into his home, allowed me to help his family, all while knowing what he did to mine.
My mother died out here. She must have been coming from seeing him when it happened.
Fucking Christ. I grip my head, rocking back and forth in the chair.
"Son?" The worry in my dad's voice floats up into the air.
I pick the phone back up. "I'm here."
"Your mother and I were having problems. You can't place all the blame on her, okay?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wouldn't have helped you to know. And, flat out, it wasn't your business."
“Was she coming from seeing him when she died? Is that why she was on that road?”
“I… I can’t say for sure. Given the direction she was driving, my guess is that she’d been with him.”
Suddenly I understand why my dad chose Renee. I've always found it odd he would marry someone my mother's opposite, but now I get it.
"I need to go, Dad. I need some time alone."
