Coward.
He stands. “It won’t be long now.”
Then, he walks out of the kitchen, and I’m left wilting at the table not only to chew onhiswords but to hate myself for the ones I left unspoken.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THEA
My toes sink past the surface, wiggling against the slow ripples of the lake. The water is cold, colder than I expected for late summer, or maybe I’m still chilled from Henry DuPont’s visit a few days ago.
“It won’t be long now.”His words haunt me. I’ve tossed and turned in my bed so much, I’ve taken to wandering to Slade’s room just to sleep. Edmond had his room cleaned and fixed days after he’d left for D.C., and I’ve avoided going up there until recently. I need respite from the hounding nightmares, and I’m granted relief in his bed.
I sigh, leaning back on both my hands as I sit at the edge of the dock. The sky is bruised with thick, heavy gray clouds, and I stare straight up, able to study the bloated shapes without the sun blinding me. One in particular looks like a dandelion head, and I smile, reaching for the bunch I picked on my way to the end of the dock.
Behind me, the lake house looms, tucked up the sloped hill. With the back of the house mostly glass, the massive panes stacked two stories high reflect the lake. Stone steps cascade down through the manicured landscaping, leading directly to the water’s edge.
It’s quiet here, except for the lap of water beneath the dock and the occasional creak of the boards under me. A world away from the city, at least it feels that way.
I pick at the dandelion’s tiny seed parachutes and watch them float away on the strengthening wind. “I miss you, Mom.”
Footsteps shake the dock, and I spin, shocked to see Slade strolling toward me. My pulse skips at his hands pushed deep into his suit pants pockets, his pressed gray shirt unbuttoned at the top. His blond hair is tousled, and his glasses reflect the rolling clouds above.
He smiles, and I smile back.
I make to get up, but he holds out his hand. “Stay. I’ll sit with you.”
Huh. I’ve never seen Slade sit on the dock before. I laugh awkwardly when he folds down to sit beside me. He doesn’t touch the water.
I glance over at him as he looks out over the lake. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him, and he’s as handsome as ever. We sit in silence for a few seconds before I ask, “When did you get home?”
“Just now. Haven’t even made it in the house yet. Came straight back here.” He turns to study me, eyes darting down to my lips.
I lick them, and he glances away.
“Edmond told me my grandfather was here. I should’ve come straight home once I heard, but I was stuck in session. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I splash the water with my foot and toss my picked dandelion into the lake.
“It’s not okay. It will never be okay. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
He doesn’t deserve to breathe at all, I think to myself, and I’m immediately taken aback by my own thoughts. I pick at another dandelion to distract myself.
“You’ve got a good bunch collected,” Slade says, shifting topics.
I grin and nod. “They haven’t been cutting the backyard. It’s like a jungle, but there’s plenty of dandelions.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to have a talk to them about that …” His lips widen into a smile, and my heart flutters confirming what I already knew. I hand him one, and he stares at it. “What is it about them? That makes you enjoy them so much and tattoo them on your skin.”
My smile dips, lips tightening into a thin line remembering how epically I’ve failed. “My mother. She used to have this saying. ‘Bloom where you’re not meant to grow.’ She’d tell me that on the first days of school, when I was struggling to fit in with friends, or in the fearful early morning hours when we’d hide together from my father. I clung to that phrase, using it to propel me through life. One day, there were a few dandelions in the yard, and I picked them all, telling my mother they weren’t supposed to be there. She came back with a smile and those same repeated words. From then on, the dandelion became a reminder.” I look over to find Slade listening intently.
I titter. “I always thought she’d meant it for me. That it was one of those nuggets of parental wisdom she hoped to instill in her child, but I often wonder now that she’s gone if she wasn’t convincing herself in her own circumstances.” Tears well in my eyes. “She was the best mom, Slade. She did without so I could thrive, took the brunt of Phil’s anger to protect me, and she made our house a home despite the nothing we had. Kids in school used to pick on me when I told them my mother stayed home, that she mended our clothes to stretch a dollar, that she grew a garden so that we had fresh produce because it’s alwaysso expensive, and that she was devoted to her family. They saw it as lazy, worthless, a waste of time—but not to me. She was my safe space.
“My college advisor encouraged me to pick a major, but I didn’t know what I wanted to do, because I wanted to do what my mother did. I dreamed of being a safe space for my children and husband.” I laugh, a snot bubble popping on the end of my nose. Slade doesn’t pay it any mind.
“It sounds stupid to those with huge dreams and aspirations, I get it. I know women can do both—we can do it all. Trust me, my mother picked up the slack when Phil was drinking the income instead of supporting his family with it, but my mother wasn’t supposed to bloom in a marriage to an abusive drunk, hell, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she left fifty times over, but she stayed … I’m not sure why. Sometimes I wonder if it was because of me. If she stayed so she could be home with me, knowing if she left, she’d have to share custody and work as a single mom to support us. I’m sure there are professionals out there that would say she should’ve left for me, to better our life, but she was the best, Slade, and a stupid accident took her from me. I was left with him, and he sold me, so I’ll never get to do what I want anyway because my choices were robbed from me. All so he could find the bottom of the bottle.”
Sobbing, I lean into Slade’s shoulder, and he wraps an arm around me. He squeezes tight, like he’s afraid to let go. “She sounds amazing, Thea. It’s not stupid to want that. Do you still?”
