Duncan groaned. “Don’t remind me, or I’ll never get this story out.” He took a sip of his drink.
“Is that peanut butter whiskey?”
“Yeah.”
“Is the story that bad?”
“Yeah.” He set the glass down, rubbing his hands together. “Do you remember the day I came into homeroom and told you my parents were getting a divorce?”
“Yeah, I can still see it clear as day.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. You know, you were the one person I expected to make fun of me for it.”
“That would be cruel!” Her mouth dropped open. “No one deserves that.”
“Well, I thought I did.” He picked the glass back up and took another drink. “I swore to myself that day that I would never do that to a kid. I would never force him or her to choose a parent. I was going to get it right the first time.” He mused over his glass. “Your kindness and concern for me, and how I was feeling, taught me more about relationships than my parents were teaching me.”
“Oh, Dunc. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Anyway …” He finished off his whiskey. “You asked what happened with my ex. I thought she was the love of my life. Mariah was a whip-smart history teacher. You’d probably get along. I remember you were good at history.”
Aurora smiled.
“We married right out of college and had Ryder. While I was in graduate school, I realized that not only could I help save the Earth for my son and other children, but I could make a damn good living doing it.
“She was never as concerned about the planet as I was, but she rolled her eyes and went along with my ‘crazy green thing.’ That’s what she called it. I needed capital to start this business, and I wasn’t getting it in Pennsylvania. But I found a friend here in Cali that was willing to put me up until I could get the capital I needed to get established.
“I missed all the signs. She was throwing red flags everywhere, and I was so blinded by the drive to start EcoPlastic that I missed how unhappy she was. She wanted me to stay in Riverton and find a job. I told her it would only be a few months until I could find funding and get us a place to live. A few months turned into six, then turned into nine. I kept in contact with her. I told her it takes time to find investors for this sort of thing. She got harder to contact. At some point, she stopped answering the phone altogether. That’s when I got the divorce papers.
“She claimed abandonment. And I was in California with no money, so I couldn’t contest it. I couldn’t even get a credit card for the plane ticket to attend the custody hearing, so I lost my son. I haven’t seen Ryder since he was three years old.”
Duncan picked the bottle off the floor and poured himself another glass of whiskey. “I sent Ryder mail when she wouldn’t pick up the phone or let me video chat with him. I gave up when the mail came back with no forwarding address. I even tried calling her parents once. That didn’t end well.”
He took a large gulp of whiskey and coughed. She wondered briefly if he’d struggled with substances after losing his son. God knows she would have been tempted.
“She cut Ryder off from my entire family to keep him from me. So, I threw myself into the business. I had nothing else out here. And I did pretty well for myself. But that’s my story. And I didn’t want to ruin your morning since we’d had such a great one. I was a pretty rotten husband.”
He looked up at the screen in front of him. Aurora sat there listening, hugging her knees to her chest, tears starting to fall down her cheeks.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t waste your tears on me.”
“But, Ryder … you couldn’t fight it later?” She couldn’t help it if her heart broke for him.
“I tried, Roar. I tried for years. My lawyer said it was the most one-sided custody battle he’d ever seen.”
Aurora laid her head on her knees, thinking. They sat there in silence for a while until Duncan broke it. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to think less of me. I realize I should have been upfront with you. I’m so sorry, Aurora.” He slammed his whiskey back and set the glass down.
“C. S. Lewis said something like, you can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can change the ending. He’s an adult now. Surely, he’s somewhere on social media? You could reach out and see if he wants to connect without your ex running interference.”
“I’m not on social media hardly at all. So that didn’t occur to me.”
“She didn’t tell you she didn’t want to move?”
“Not in so many words. She never said those exact words, not that I remember. There was no ‘we need to talk’ discussion.”
“That’s on her, then. You have to communicate with your other half.”
“It’s on me too. I should have checked in; been sure she was okay with it.”
