"He visited me in college right before I was drafted," I mumble through a mouthful of ice cream, but surprisingly, she can make out what I’m saying.
"Didn’t your parents ever teach you to not speak with your mouth full, Wingrove?" she asks through a giggle, leaning across the blanket, using her thumb to swipe the excess ice cream off my lips.
"Mom was too busy working to teach me anything," I tease as I reach for a napkin to clean off the parts she missed.
"What about your dad?" Her question catches me off guard, and I realize she doesn’t know a lot about my upbringing, because in high school, we only really ever hung out in group settings and never got the chance to hang out one on one.
"I’ve never actually met him. He took off when Mom was pregnant with me, and she always changed the subject whenever I tried to bring him up." I shrug it off.
It doesn’t affect me anymore.
"Even now?"
"I stopped asking about him once I’d reached high school. I guess I got used to having only my mom. I saw a photo of him once. He was cradling my mom’s bump. The back of the photo said 'Don and I - Pregnant with Harley - 1993.'She used to keep it in her drawer.” I give her a weak smile before heaping another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
Mom took on both parental roles, so I never felt the need to mention the photo. She alone was enough for me. Sure, she could barely make it to any of my high school games or even take me to practice when I was young, but she was working so hard to provide for us, making sure we always had food on the table, and a roof over our heads.
I was taught at a young age that if I wanted something in life, I had to work hard for it.
And that’s exactly what I did.
"She doesn’t need to work anymore. I retired her years ago." My chest swells with pride, knowing I was able to change the course of our lives by living out my dream.
But she refused to accept it.
She needed to work to keep herself busy.
"How come she’s working at Wingrove Estate?" She raises a brow before eating her first mouthful of ice cream.
Apparently, she was too focused on our conversation to think about her tub of frozen... worms.
"She’s too proud of a woman. She didn’t want anything from me. She wouldn’t let me buy her a new car or buy her a new house. She wanted me to make her work for it, so that’s why she runs the winery. She loves it and does a better job than I would. I just oversee everything from behind the scenes. She’s the real boss." Looking up from my tub, I realize that her eyes haven’t left me.
"Do I have something else on my face?" I ask, but she shakes her head.
"No. It’s just nice hearing you talk about your Mom and your upbringing. Nice getting to knowyou." She smiles.
It’s nice opening up to someone who genuinely wants to know me for me. Someone who doesn’t care about the money or the fame and status that I used to have. Any girl I’d met in the past was based purely on physical connection or hoped I would provide them with a luxury life.
There was never any real emotional connection. And while Cassandra and I do spend a lot of time in the bedroom, I love that we’re comfortable enough to talk about whatever we want, without judgement.
"Do you ever think about finding him or wonder if you have any siblings?" she asks, veering the conversation back to my father, but I shake my head in response.
Swallowing the last of my ice cream, I put the tub back in the freezer bag.
"He knows about me. If he wants to find me, he can, but I have no intention of knowing him. I’m not a kid anymore. There’s nothing left for him to teach me." I’m fulfilled with my life, and I truly mean that. If he came into my life now, it’d be thirty years too late.
Laying down on the blanket beneath us, I pull her down to join me so her head can rest comfortably on my chest as we both stare at the clear night sky.
"Hey, Harley?"
"Yeh?"
"I like us," she whispers.
"Me too."
***
