“Watching him make amends to hang that damn light felt the same as if he’d carved J + M in a tree trunk. I’ve lugged that eyesore to every home we’ve ever had because it reminded me of that day. Of how much your father loved me...and his ability to apologize.”
“I miss him.”
“He would be so proud of you, Hugh.”
“Somehow, Mom, I doubt that.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“I haven’t been hard enough. I allowed my?—”
His mother cut him off. “...fear of commitment?”
“...fear of the future to sway my decisions,” He finished, ignoring his mom’s interruption.
“You know your happiness is my happiness. Your sadness is mine as well. I believe you are accustomed to how parenting works by now.”
“I am.”
“Do you care for Rowan as only a friend or family member, or is it more?”
“More.”
His mom stayed quiet for a time before asking perhaps the most dreaded of questions. “Would you tell me why, then, that you pushed Rowan away?”
Hugh covered his face with his hands, elbows propped on his knees. He needed a moment to digest the fact that he was discussing...this with his mother. “I’m too old for her, Mom. Way too old. Twenty-nine years too old!” Hugh pounded his fist on the table to emphasize the discrepancy. “I never wanted her to regret her choice. Waking up next to an old man while she’s still the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Hugh Darcy O’Faolain, if only your father were here to box your ears! Did he or I raise you to believe, to ever consider, that love is so fleeting? That love is skin deep?”
“No.”
“Do you think your father loved me less as I aged? When I no longer had a tight ass and perky boobs?”
Hugh cringed at that unneeded description. “Of course not.”
His mother was on a tirade now, and sugarcoating wasn’t on the menu. “Exactly. He loved me more, as I loved him more. Every year we had, we loved each other more.” She placed her hands on his knees. “You underestimated yourself, and I believe you underestimated Rowan. I also don’t believe turning Rowan away had anything to do with your age or at least, it wasn’t the only reason.
“That woman you were married to made you afraid to take a chance again, and you knew that Rowan was all or nothing. You’re still letting that poor excuse of a wife and mother color your decisions. She was horrible, Hugh. It was never your fault. She had something horribly wrong with her long before you came along. She was just a good enough actress that she fooled everyone. Everyone, Son, not just you.”
This was a lot for Hugh to take in, and it certainly was not what he’d expected would happen when he returned to Oklahoma. Jesus, he felt wrung out, and it was only ten in the morning.
“Where is she?”
His mom sighed, clearly expecting the question and clearly not looking forward to giving him the answer. “She’s been working on a new designer boutique downtown. It’s a gorgeous space, and it’s not far from Wolves, actually. Rowan has worked tirelessly on the space, and she thinks she should be able to wrap things up soon. Very exciting,” his mom added in a decidedly unexcited way. She was rambling. His mother wasn’t a rambler.
“Where is she now? Right now,” Hugh thought to add in case his mother chose to misinterpret his question. Again.
“She’s at the boutique, of course.”
She was not telling him something important, but before he could poke further, she got up and told him she had something to show him. Swallowing his agitation, he trailed after his mother into the living room. She went to the armoire that he’d gifted her. River found it in Scotland from some artist outside Inverness.
She opened the doors, and Hugh almost lost his fucking legs again. “Rowan’s been working on it for weeks. She says it isn’t near done, but I can’t believe it isn’t close. It couldn’t be more stunning. She only hung the oil paintings in yesterday.”
Hugh couldn’t even speak. No words could explain the scope of Rowan’s talent. All the details, letters, homemade gifts, and knickknacks were special enough on their own, but the paintings...
“Did she paint these?” he asked with a sizable lump in his throat, taking in the painting of him and his father. It was his sixteenth birthday, and Dad had gotten him a Porche. This picture showed both of them grinning at each other. It was taken right after his dad had whispered in Hugh’s ear that he’d rip Hugh’s nuts off if he had an accident and scared his mother. Not even the threat of castration could dim the thrill of his first car.
Unbeknownst to his mother, the two of them had snuck out that night and took it for a rip on Highway 169. It was one of his favorite memories. And Rowan had painted it.
