"From what I've heard."He hesitated."It looks like she's staying with Baker."
Her heart sank.
Of course, she was.
Her mom always found a biker to latch onto.Always needed someone to take care of her, to give her a place, to make her feel wanted.It didn't matter how many times it blew up in her face, she always went back.
Lydia stared at the counter, disappointment curling tight in her chest."She can't be alone for five minutes without finding a biker to cling to," she muttered.
Baddy set the spoon down and leaned his hip against the counter, watching her carefully."Baker isn't just any biker," he said quietly."He's your father."
Her breath caught.Baddy hadn't forced her to talk about her newfound father.
He continued in a gruff voice."That means your mom and Baker were together twenty, twenty-one years ago, before you were even a thought to either of them.Long before any of this.They've got history that doesn't involve you or the way your mom conducted herself over the years."
Lydia pressed her lips together, trying to swallow the knot in her throat.
She knew he was right.
She knew this wasn't the same as her mom bouncing from man to man.
But it still hurt.
It felt like her mom had chosen someone else, again, before choosing her.She inhaled deeply, knowing she was past the age of needing her mom that way.Her scars were raw.Her mother's choices would always be a sore spot for her, no matter how independent or old she got.
Baddy stepped closer, cupping a warm hand to her cheek."I know it's a lot.And I know it's messy.But this isn't her running to another biker.This is her going back to the man who once loved her.The man she lost because he sent her away."
Lydia blinked hard, staring at the countertop until it blurred.
She didn't know what to say.
Didn't know how to feel.
All she knew was that the scent of garlic bread suddenly made her eyes sting, and Baddy's hand on her was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.She suspected she might never fully grasp her parents' decisions, let alone see eye to eye with them.
After dinner, with a full stomach, she showered and slipped into Baddy's old sweats.Returning to the living room, she found him stretched out on the couch.She curled up beside him and wrapped one of the soft blankets around her legs.She almost seemed human again.
Baddy stretched his arm along the back of the couch, eyes on the television to the basketball game.He wasn't really watching.She could tell by the way his thumb brushed absently against her shoulder every few minutes, like he was checking she was still there.
She picked up her photo album from the end table and pulled it onto her lap.
Her old ritual.
Her escape.
Tonight, she wanted to lose herself in the faces of strangers.The family get-togethers, birthday parties, and Christmas mornings.Moments she'd never had but always imagined.
She turned a page.
Then another.
Her fingers paused on a photo she'd seen a hundred times.Two children sitting on the front porch of a brick house, legs dangling off the step, grinning at the camera with what appeared to be ice cream on their faces.A boy and a girl.Maybe siblings.Maybe cousins.She'd never know.
But tonight...something tugged at her.
She leaned closer.
There, on the porch pillar, was a small wooden sign she'd never noticed before.Weathered.Faded.But there was writing on the surface.
