She stood and paced across the room, then back again. “I’ve been so stressed about everything that happened with Hilton. And one of the things that keeps going through my mind is that I don’t trust myself any longer.”
He nodded slowly. “I can understand that.”
“I don’t think I can live this way. I’m sorry. It’s a lot to deal with, and I don’t want to hurt you. I thought I could do it, but then he showed up and now you’ve been hiding something huge, and I don’t know what to think.”
“I wasn’t sure when to tell you. We’ve been getting to know one another and I really like you, but this whole thing with fatherhood is so new to me. I’m just trying to figure it out. And I should’ve said something sooner. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I feel like the ground has shifted under my feet.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I can’t be in a relationship. I’m sorry. I’m not ready. Not after everything.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
He looked blindsided and she felt bad for her reaction, but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t trust him in that moment. And trust was something easy to scuttle and difficult to restore. “Yeah… me too.”
He was already so much different from Hilton, who would’ve clung on to her and begged her not to leave. Hilton never gave her any breathing room, and she was beginning to feel a little better knowing that Tyler wasn’t going to flip out over this conversation.
“I’m gonna head off and give you some space. Call me if you want to talk more. Okay?”
“Okay,” she replied, surprised.
She walked him to the door and waved goodbye as his truck reversed out of the driveway. Then she padded back to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of coffee. The kitten followed her every move, mewing for milk. She filled Moon’s bowl with milk, then sipped her coffee as she watched the kitten drink.
She liked Tyler. He seemed like a good man. What would he be like as a father? She tried to picture him with a daughter and the image came to her readily, him pushing a little girl on a swing. She might have his blue eyes, and easy smile. She’d be cute and serious sometimes, but fun and full of mischief at other times, just like Tyler. Cici was a sweet name. It must’ve been hard for him to discover he had a daughter who was already four years old — so much time missed together, so many milestones he’d never witness.
Could she be with a man who had a child with someone else? She’d never much considered it. She loved kids. All her life she’d dreamed of the day she would become a mother. But never, in all those daydream scenarios, had she pictured herself as a step mother. Even the word sounded scary. Could she do it? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that in this moment, she wasn’t ready for a commitment, and especially not to someone who’d very easily kept such a big secret from her for months. She might never be ready.
Chapter Thirty
When Rita walked into the kitchen a week later, she kicked a large, empty bottle, and it ricocheted off a dozen others. She swore and bent to steady them before they all fell and cracked on the linoleum. “What on earth? Tyler!”
Tyler emerged from his bedroom, freshly showered and with his longer hair smoothed back away from his face, making his blue eyes stand out brightly in his tanned face. “What’s up, Mom?”
“What are these bottles doing in the middle of the kitchen? I about fell on my tail.”
He scratched his head. “As you know, I’ve decided to quit moonshinin’. So, I’m gonna recycle these bottles and sell my equipment.”
“Really?” She was surprised. She hadn’t expected him to change directions so suddenly. “I’m glad to hear you haven’t changed your mind. Do you want some breakfast? We can eat and talk.”
Rita made pancakes and scrambled eggs with bacon. Then she poured syrup over everything and set two plates on the table while Tyler fixed them each a cup of coffee with vanilla creamer.
“This looks amazing. Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
She smiled. Tyler had always been easy to connect with through food. When he was a teenager, if they were having a rough time together, she’d simply make him a pot roast or stack some burritos in the freezer. He’d come out, grab a burrito, and then give her a hug on the way back to his room.
“I’m always happy to feed you, honey. I love you too. Now, let’s say grace and eat.”
Halfway through the meal, she spoke up. “How are things goin' with Jessica?”
“We broke up.” He scooped eggs into his mouth and chewed.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“It’s a long story, but she has some trust issues. I haven’t given up. I really like her, so I’m giving her some space and we’ll see. Maybe we’ll get back together. Maybe we’ll just be friends. It’s really up to her now.”
“You’re such a good boy,” Rita said, patting his hand. “Someone raised you right.”
