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I peek at her from the corner of my eye and she adjusts onto her side to face me. “Eli will be home soon. You should spend the next couple of days getting to know your father.”
A twinge of resentment snakes its way up my spine. “I know my father.”
“Jeff’s a good man,” she says. “And so is Eli.”
That’s up for debate. I visit Eli once on his home turf and I may or may not have been almost abducted by a rival motorcycle club. “Eli seems nice. He visits me once a year.”
I say it as if she’s out of the loop because, well...there’s the possibility that conversation between us could get thin.
“I’m aware,” she says in a short way that makes me wish I could claim I was mute. Very long pause and she speaks again. “Everyone keeps reminding me that you aren’t the child I knew and as much as I hate it, you’re not.”
I’m not and for some reason this honesty causes me to be uncomfortable. I point then relax my toes. “I found Mom’s initials on the tree, which, according to Oz, means that she jumped from the rope swing. So now that I figured it out, will you fill me in on my mom’s past?”
“Tell me the significance of Honeysuckle Ridge and then we’ll have a different conversation. How did you get Oz to tell you about the rope?”
“He had me jump.”
Pure surprise softens Olivia’s features. “You jumped?”
I gesture to my bandaged leg. “I jumped wrong and hit the rocks.”
Olivia traces the outline of her lips and stares off into space. “Oz had you jump.”
“He explained it’s a tradition and how everyone who comes to the pond has to do it.”
“No. It?
?s what we have the people we care for do. Most of the names there are club members, but not many of those names belong to women. That’s a rarity.”
“I’m sure Oz had me do it because I’m related to you.”
She shakes her head halfway through my response. “That’s not how our world works. The only females on those trees are old ladies.”
My mind stretches in two different directions and the resulting aftermath is a brain freeze.
“There may be a few exceptions,” she admits, “like Violet, but overall, it’s a privilege granted to few.”
“Which one was my mom?” Which one am I? “Why was her name on there?” If asking me to jump, if carving my name into the tree meant something special, then why did Oz share it with me? Or is it because I’m an exception, like Violet, or was Mom an exception?
“Why do you think your mother’s name was on there?” Olivia asks.
All the possible answers spin so fast in my head that the world tilts. “If Mom was an...”
Old lady. It feels wrong to refer to her that way. “...Attached to Eli then why not tell me? If they knew each other before she got pregnant it still doesn’t change that Eli didn’t want us.”
“He wants you,” Olivia whispers.
I snort. “Because that’s how people feel when they give up their custodial rights.”
“There’s more to the story,” Olivia counters. “More you need to know.”
“More what? No one will tell me and my patience is running out. What I don’t understand is why everyone is so damn secretive.”
“Speaking of secrets,” she says, “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it from Eli that I’m supplying you with information. Keeping your past from you is important to him and I stand to lose a lot if he finds out I’m denying his wishes.”
“I’m not a liar,” I say.
“I’m not asking you to lie. I’m asking you to not mention it.”
