AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And your family understood?”
My eyebrows rose slowly. “I’m not sure they did. I was the only one who moved far, my siblings always wanted to stay close. But understanding is different from support, isn’t it?”
She conceded that with a small hum. “I suppose.”
“My parents always supported me, even if they didn’t dig into the why.” I swallowed around the thick lump of emotion clogging my throat. It was still so fucking hard to talk about them because any stories we told now, he was only part of them if it was revisiting the past. And what a good past he’d given us.
It was what made them magic. With all of us kids. We were so different. Wanting different things, different talents and passions. But they never got too rattled when we chased them. They were just there for us, in whatever way we needed. And talking about that now, it was more than I could handle.
It had been years since I’d thought about how he’d reacted when I left, and for a few moments, I worried I would break down in the wood shop.
“The day I told my dad and Sheila I was moving to London for a job, he just hugged me,” I said, voice more than a little rough. “He asked if I was excited, and when I said yes, he just squeezed me even tighter and said, ‘Then that’s all that matters, son. It’s just a plane ride away.’”
Her eyes were glossy when I risked a glance at her. “That sounds like him.”
“They visited a few times,” I told her. “Christmastime was his favorite, though. We’d walk for miles and miles to look at all the lights and the decorations.” It felt like someone pressed a great, heavy weight on my chest, and I took a deep breath to try to make it disappear, but the lingering memory of my dad was a bit too fresh for that.
“You’re not ready to talk about him yet, are you?” she asked quietly, her eyes unerring on mine. They were still soft and kind and understanding.
My voice was rough when I answered, and that was nothing compared to the tearing I felt in my chest. “No. I’m not.”
Harlow dropped her chin to her chest and let out a slow breath. “You and your siblings are so damn lucky to have them,” she whispered. “But I guess anyone welcomed into your home kinda has them too, huh?”
I smiled a little. “Yeah. This isn’t why you came in here, though.” Gently, I nudged her thigh with the back of my hand. “Talk to me, Keaton.”
Her dimple peeked out when she grinned. “Would you buy it if I said I was curious?”
“Not for a second.”
At that, she laughed under her breath. “Didn’t think so.” Then she was quiet again for a few moments. “Just thinking about something my dad said to me today at Sage’s practice. He came to ask if I was coming over on Sunday for my birthday, and I said I would. But then he got all … insightful. About parents and kids, moms and daughters. And understanding someone else’s dreams,” she added quietly. “I spend so much of my time trying to figure out why my characters do what they do. And not once have I ever tried to pick apart why she’s so disappointed in me. Feels weird to have someone shed light on it, I guess.”
Ahh. I tapped my finger on the table while I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. Sometimes it was like that with her. She needed to let those thoughts untangle in their own time.
“You’ve achieved some amazing things, Harlow. Do you need your parents, need her, to understand them, to be at peace?”
“No,” she answered immediately. Her eyes slowly rose back to mine again, they were clearer, brighter, some of that sadness gone with her instant answer. “No, I don’t. But I do wish I felt more comfortable around them. When I’m with them, it doesn’t feel like they’re my family, you know. More like, we’ve become a mutual obligation, and there’s no way to tell what the other side really thinks about it. Because her disapproval of me is so loud, even when they don’t say much.”
“About your writing?”
“Everything, really. That I moved in the first place. My writing. That I can’t just get a normal job to support Sage. That I moved in with you instead of staying with them.” She smiled, but that did hold an edge of bittersweet to it. “I’m almost thirty-five, and I’ve never been married. The one guy who I had a serious relationship with left months before his daughter was born, and I think, to them, all of that adds up to disappointment, you know? Even if they love Sage, which they do. They’ve never treated her like less, and I think that’s the only reason I was able to come back.”
“You shouldn’t be a disappointment because he’s the asshole who left,” I said steadily. “He didn’t want to be a father? Maybe he should’ve been a little bit more careful.”
My steady tone didn’t fool her, though, not for a second. She studied my face with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “I can only imagine the things you’d want to say to him.”
After I unclenched my jaw, I let my eyebrows climb briefly on my forehead. “Not much, really.”
She snorted. “Seriously?”
This was a step on the ice I was willing to take. “Seriously. He’s missing out on an amazing kid. And you’re back in no small part because he’s not around. I think that about takes the wind out of any of my anger, yeah?”
After a beat of silence, her lip trembled, and a quick tear fell down her cheek, but she dashed it away. “Oh fuck you for always saying the perfect thing. It’s not even fair.”
I laughed under my breath. “Sorry?”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right, I’m not.” I nudged her leg again. “I’m not trying to say the perfect thing, Harlow. I’m just saying what I think. It’s his loss. My gain. Your parents’ gain too, if they’d unclench long enough to realize it.”
