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“But you still moved back?” he asked.
Slowly, I nodded. “Sage wanted to be around family. And I knew having you guys around would be good for her. Good for me to keep doing the thing I love with a little bit of help with Sage, even if you don’t understand why I want to do it.”
His brow furrowed slightly, and he gave a low whistle when Sage caught a nice pass. She looked over and beamed, giving him a quick thumbs-up.
“At least one of us is allowed to celebrate,” I muttered.
To my shock, my dad let out a small chuckle.
“I’m no expert, but I think there’s something different about moms and daughters. Sage looks at you and sees a little glimpse of herself down the road, and maybe she can’t imagine ever embarrassing her daughter.”
The truth of that knocked the breath from my lungs, and I had to blink against some sudden tears again. “Yeah, probably.”
Had I thought the same thing whenever my mom did something that drove me crazy? Maybe I had.
“That relationship,” he continued. “It’s either easy as breathing or riddled with land mines. And I think you and your mom are a bit of the latter.” Dad ducked his chin down to his chest and exhaled quietly. “You had dreams so big, it scared your mother. I think that’s why she works so hard not to even try to understand them.”
Well. Okay then. It wouldn’t be my daughter sending me into a mess of ugly tears. It would be this unexpected truth bomb from my dad, who spoke an average of fifteen words a day.
“I know why you don’t want to come over for lunch, Harlow,” he said. “Doesn’t change that we still want you there. Maybe it won’t be easy for a long time, and maybe it won’t ever be easy. But I think if you both keep trying, you can hop over those land mines more often than not.”
I rolled my lips together. There was no chance of me answering because it felt like someone wrapped an ice-cold hand around my vocal cords and squeezed tight. Eventually, I nodded, and when he looked over at me, I know he saw the tears threatening to fall.
He wasn’t the guy to wrap me up in a hug or tell me it would be okay, but I was still thankful for what he’d just given me. Insight, more than we realized, was one of the greatest gifts in being able to let go of your past. We could study it and pick it apart, but until we got some of those missing pieces, almost an element of our own story could haunt us.
I blinked a few times and then swallowed hard. “I refuse to let me and Sage be like that,” I said quietly. “I think that’s why it took me so long to come home.”
Dad nodded, then he gently set his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I know, Harlow.” His hand dropped, and I fought a swell of emotion as it clawed straight up my throat. “Tell Sage she’s doing well, all right? I need to get home.”
“Sure, Dad,” I said quietly. Then I watched him walk back to his truck. “Holy shit,” I whispered.
It seemed like everywhere I turned, there was a slight tonal shift to all my relationships, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle.
Ian, as it turned out, was immensely huggable and smelled really delicious and that didn’t help anything. He teased me when I needed teasing and let my daughter braid his hair because she wanted to learn. Now my dad was dropping emotionally deep insights and making me view my mother and my own relationship with Sage through a different lens.
I closed my eyes because honestly, there was only so much one could take before the only option was to just hide under the covers and nap excessively.
“Did Grandpa leave?”
My eyes popped open to find Sage, bag slung over her shoulder and sweat beading her forehead.
“Yeah, he said to tell you you’re doing great, though,” I said.
She smiled. “Are they coming to my first game?”
“I sent Grandma the schedule a couple of days ago. But maybe you can ask her on Sunday.” I paused. “We’re going there for lunch.”
Her eyes lit up. “Sweet. Do you think my cousins will be there?”
When I nodded, she started talking a mile a minute. With my arm slung over her shoulder, we walked toward the car, stopping when Coach Scott yelled my name. I handed Sage my purse, which held the car keys. “You can wait in the car. I’ll be right there.”
She nodded, skipping ahead of me while I turned to watch Coach Collins jog toward me. He wore a bright blue sweatshirt and a black ball cap turned backward on his head, and it made him look younger than the last time I’d seen him.
“Harlow,” he said. “This’ll just take a couple of minutes, if you’ve got the time.”
I glanced at my watch. “Yeah, should be fine.”
He smiled at some of the kids as they passed, tucking his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Having a good week so far?”
