Page 107

I hesitate, glancing at Hugh, who shrugs. Either Mom wants to actually talk to me, or Hugh is about to give Coen a Mom-instigated lecture about what they’ll do if he breaks my heart.

“It’s fine,” Coen says.

I grab my wine and pad barefoot after Mom. We step out onto the side porch, which is a flat paved patio strung with lights leading down to the in-ground pool. Everything is so peaceful out here. Overhead, the stars show through the lights just enough to cast a sparkling net over the sky. Down below, the breeze catches Mom’s fake tropical plants and makes them rustle. It’s all familiar from my childhood visits; I take comfort in it.

“Honey,” Mom says, running a hand over her hair. “Is your dad causing problems?”

I balk, unwilling to be at the center of anything.

“Come on, tell me,” she insists.

“Okay,” I say, having a sip of wine. “Yeah, he is. He’s scaring me about Coen.”

“What’s he saying?”

I shrug, unwilling to meet her eyes. “He says he knows his type, that he’ll hurt me. I know I left in the morning and didn’t tell him, but I’m also twenty-four years old, and having to hide my boyfriends he doesn’t a hundred percent approve of is getting kind of…old. Plus, Coen didn’t fucking do anything to him.”

She releases a long sigh. “I’m gonna tell you a secret,” she says. “It might fuck you up a little.”

“More?”

“Yeah, maybe.” She waves a hand. “But it’s one of those things that’s good in the long run.”

“Okay,” I whisper, dragging my eyes back to her as she comes close.

“Honey, on the day I got married, there was this tiny, little…wriggle of doubt in my chest,” she says softly. “I think…I kind of knew someday, he was going to step out on me.”

My stomach sinks.

“You didn’t love him?” I whisper.

“No, I loved him so much. But when I looked at him…well, he was a heartbreaker. He wasn’t ready to settle down, but I was, so he compromised for me.”

I’m quiet, unsure how to process this. In my memory, they were so happy.

“We both thought it would work out. We really did,” she says, touching my face. “And I wanted to forgive him, because when he said he was sorry…he meant it. But that doesn’t take back the pain. He fucked up, and he’s paid for it his entire life.”

I swallow back the pain.

“I know,” I whisper. “I think he tried so hard to be a good dad because of that.”

She nods. “And he is a good dad. But he wasn’t a good husband.”

Sniffing, I pull back to wipe my nose. “Do you hate him?”

“At first. Not anymore.”

“Why?” My voice shakes.

She shrugs, waving the hand holding her wine. “Because I met Hugh, and he is perfect, and I’m happy, have been for years. Who wants to carry hate everywhere they go?”

My stomach goes ice cold. It might be time for me to say the words I’ve never said before.

“You’re happy even though I chose to stay in Wyoming?” I manage.

She goes still and then turns back to me. Her eyes are soft.

“Honey,” she says. “I love you whatever choices you make. It hurt when you girls chose to stay, but I don’t regret it, because you had good childhoods. And I saw you for a month or two out of every year.”