My throat felt tight. “Jo wrote a story on her blog. About the first Christmas Daddy was deployed.”
“And that upset you.”
I swallowed. Nodded. “It’s just... It made me remember a lot of things. How special it felt. How close we all were.”
“You were. You are. Your family intimidated the hell out of me when we started dating. Still does, sometimes. Especially Aunt Phee.”
I grasped his hand. Squeezed gratefully. “You were wonderful with her last night.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I told him about the visit to the hospital, about my father’s trip to D.C., about my mother asking him to move out. John listened in his quiet way, not interrupting, his warm, brown eyes on my face. “I thought their marriage was perfect,” I said. “That my mother was perfect. But now...”
“Your mom is great.”
“My family is a mess.”
“You’re still a family.”
“John, myparentsareseparating.”
“My dad walked out on my mom. That makes him a lousy dad. But it didn’t make us—Mom and my brother and me—less of a family.”
I flushed. “It’s just... Reading Jo’s story, it took me back. It’s all true, but it’s not true. Like everything I remember, everything I felt, wasn’t real.”
“People change,” John said. “Bad things happen. That doesn’t mean the good things didn’t happen. You can remember the good things.”
“My mother did everything for my father.”
“Well, that’s their problem right there. He took her for granted.”
“She never complained.”
“Because that’s not who she is. Abby’s not going to tear your father down. Not to you.”
“I just don’t understand why she would ask him to leave now.”
“She’s been thinking about it a long time, you said.”
“I don’t understand that, either.”
John rubbed his jaw. “Okay. Say I’ve got this team. One great returning senior and a bunch of other guys. And my star, the senior, he’s all in. He comes to every practice, he busts his ass, he breaks his heart, he wins all his matches. But he’s only one player. He can’t carry the team by himself. At some point—maybe he gets injured, maybe not—the other wrestlers have to pull their weight. They have to put up points for the team to win. When Abby went into the hospital, you stepped up. Your sister stepped up. And your dad walked away.”
“He didn’t simply walk away,” I said. Remembering what Mom had said. “He had a commitment.”
“He made a commitment to your mom first. She should have been his first priority.”
“John.” I looked at him, this man I had married. “Are you sorry you decided to leave coaching? Teaching, I mean.”
“We decided together. So you could stay home with the kids.”
“But you love coaching.”
“I love you more.”
A little flare of warmth as I digested this. “Do you think my father loves my mother?”
“As much as he can.”
