I toed off my sneakers and gestured for Leo to do the same. “This is my friend, Leo. We play baseball together.”
“Ack!” Molly fake-gagged. “Another baseball player?”
Leo snorted. “I’m real popular in this house.”
“I’ll heat some food.” Brenna’s hand landed on my forearm. “Go on up.”
Leo and I headed up to Molly, not bothering to glance in Kathy’s direction. Her name might be on the lease, but Brenna paid the bills. The gravy train would cease running if she tossed me out on my ass.
Molly gripped my hand and tugged me down the hall until we reached a pink room covered in hockey posters. I recognized some of the Palmer City Wolves we’d met when Deandra took us to their locker room after the game.
“It’salwayshockey, isn’t it?” Leo bemoaned, inspecting the posters.
“Are you here to stay?” Molly’s big eyes stared at me with so much hope.
The stab in my gut returned as I thought about how I’d shunned her as a baby. I’d sat across the table from her at meals, slept in the same house two weekends every month, and watched Brenna care for her. Molly was perfectly innocent in the entire mess that was our family history. She didn’t deserve anything that happened to her—not my shittiness, not losing her father, not moving across the country away from the sister who loved her most, and not an unstable life with Kathy Quinn.
She deserved the kind of love and happiness Brenna and I could give her.
“That’s up to your sister,” I said.
Her smile reached those big eyes. “Yay!”
I wished I had Molly’s unshakable confidence. Eight years ago, I flew home to tell my best friend I had feelings for her. I suspected she had them for me, too, but if I’d read it wrong, I risked our friendship.
And now, I’d risk anything for a chance with Brenna by asking her to invite me into her life, the one she planned to build with Molly. She’d been clear about her priorities. Brenna had to decide whether she could see our lives fitting together and whether she could trust me to stick around, to care for her sister, to be her partner.
I swallowed down my nerves and took a seat beside Molly. She held out a book to me—The Little Engine That Could.I read it to her, letting the words distract me from my racing thoughts.
50
BRENNA
Now
My mom leaned againstthe counter, arms crossed tightly against her body. “So this again.”
I kept my attention on the stovetop, where I was reheating spaghetti and meatballs for Nathan and Leo. The delicious smell of garlic wafted toward me every time I opened the oven to check the progress of the bread.
“What does it matter to you?” My tone remained carefully neutral. I wouldn’t pretend we had a relationship we didn’t, but I didn’t want to jeopardize our agreement.
Shetsked. “You haven’t had your fill of heartbreak yet, huh?”
“You don’t even know Nathan.”
“But I knowyou,” Kathy pressed. “The way you cried and cried over that boy. The amount of money I shelled out to pay for therapy to help you cope.”
My arm froze midstir. All this time she knew?
Kathy’s ambivalence to anyone’s feelings wasn’t new, but still, it stung, this realization my mother had known my struggle and never once asked me about it.
“I thought you would’ve grown up by now, but nothing’s changed. You still have that weakness—”
I spun to face her. “It’s not a weakness!” Kathy opened her mouth, but I barreled forward, tired of pretending she wasn’t wrong. “I’m not weak. It took me a long time to accept myself, but I’m happy as I am. You’re not going to make me feel differently, so I recommend you stop talking now.”
“I’m your mother, I know—”
My cold laugh silenced her. “You don’t know me, Kathy. You’veneverknown me. And it’s your loss. You’ll never recognize it, and that’s fine. You can blame me or Nathan or Gordon or whoever you want for our lack of relationship. It’s your choice. But I know the truth. That therapy you shelled out money for—Gordon’s money, by the way—helped me understand I’m not to blame for your inability to be a good mother. We either choose to show up for people or we don’t. It’s as simple as that.”
