“Amy, why don’t you tell us about your family?” James said.
Tension coiled in Amy’s shoulders. She hated talking about her life, which was so different from most people, especially people as affluent as the Youngs. But they deserved her honesty.
Fighting the urge to squirm in her seat, she put her fork down and balled her napkin in her fist. “Well, I pretty much spent my whole life living in one apartment or another in Portland. It was me and my mom until I was eighteen.”
Actually, it had rarely been just the two of them, and Amy moved out at seventeen, but they didn’t need to know that. They would want to know why, and Amy didn’t share that with anyone. Only Celeste knew what happened that day. Nor did the Youngs need to know she hadn’t spoken to her mother since the day she walked out.
“What about your father?” Hope asked.
“He was never a part of my life. He refused to marry my mom when she got pregnant at seventeen.”
“That must have been hard for her. Did she have a supportive family?”
“No, her father kicked her out after she got pregnant.”
“That’s horrible.” Disapproval filled Hope’s voice.
Amy shrugged, trying to appear indifferent as she talked about her mother. “Her father was abusive, so it was probably for the best. My mom stayed with a friend until she found a place of her own. She got married shortly after I turned three.” She swallowed the lump that filled her throat every time she thought about her stepfather, Bruce. “But it only lasted a few years. She married two other times, but both were brief and ended badly. After her third divorce, she didn’t bother getting married anymore. She kept a steady string of boyfriends after that.”
Amy bit her bottom lip to shut herself up. Could they hear the bitterness in her voice? She didn’t usually share this part of her life with others, because talking about her mother’s lifestyle reminded Amy her mother didn’t love her.
“I bet you found that difficult.” James’ voice held none of the disapproval she expected. Instead, it was full of compassion.
Amy shrugged again. “I learned at a young age to take care of myself and stay out of the way.”
She’d been successful most of the time.
Amy propped her elbows on the table and rubbed the back of her neck, forming a shield in front of her. If only the action could block the unpleasant memories. She had no desire to share with these strangers, her struggles to avoid drunk, abusive men and their unwanted advances.
An uncomfortable silence settled around the table, and Amy glanced up to see Ben watching her. She lowered her arms and looked away from his penetrating gaze.
Kallie blew raspberries against her spoon at that moment, attracting everyone’s attention, and Amy wanted to hug her.
