“I wouldn’t put it like that.” I rubbed a hand over my beard. “I’d only ever told her the bad things about my parents. She knew that I hated my dad, that I didn’t have that great of a relationship with my mom, so she hadn’t wanted to come to Black Pines to begin with. But the bigger issue was Lizzie.”
Face still scrunched up, Gwen blinked a few times. “Are you saying you guys broke up because your already orphaned niece was orphaned a second time, and you didn’t dump her into the system?”
Sure did paint a bad picture of Ashley when she framed it like that. “We were young. It was a lot of pressure. And yeah, it was shitty. But she didn’t want the life I was headed into. Honestly, it was my bad. I had talked about taking Lizzie after I graduated, and Ashley always changed the subject or made a comment suggesting that might not be the best idea. It’s not like she completely blindsided me. I knew she didn’t want kids. I respected her decision to go on with her own life and let me go on with mine.”
Gwen made atsksound. “You’re a better man than me.”
Not really. Ashley and I had been college sweethearts, but not much else. It never would’ve lasted, and it was for the best that it hadn’t. If we had met at a different time, I would’ve recognized that too. We’d only lasted as long as we did because my grief for my sister had been so fresh.
To Ashley, I was a fun way to pass the time. To me, she was a distraction from the worst pain I’d ever felt.
“We were together for a couple years, but it was never that serious.” I shrugged. “And it’s ancient history now. Lizzie was three when that went down.”
“Fair enough.” Gwen raised a hand in surrender. “So Ashley wasn’t the one who got away, huh?”
“I don’t believe in that.” I rolled my neck from left to right, more annoyed than I had been about our lack of reservation at the hibachi restaurant. “People say that when they’re unhappy in their current relationship or they fumbled a good one.”
Nodding, she wagged a finger. “I like the way you think, Mr. Everett.”
Interesting. She knew my last name. Had she googled me?
“Agree or disagree with the way I think?”
“Agree,” she said. “That sort of philosophy, ‘the one that got away,’ reeks of ‘peaked in high school.’”
The laugh I let out further fogged the window behind her. “So I’ve told you about my parents. What are yours like? Or were?”
“Were, yeah.” Gwen wet her lips, then clicked her tongue. “I don’t know my dad. Never have. But my mom was great. Aside from the crack.”
“That checks out.” When Gwen chuckled, I took a small sip from the soda that sat between us, mindful to leave enough for her. “How did she pass?”
“Also a car accident,” she said. “Luckily, I wasn’t in the same position you were in. She died at the scene. Probably easier than watching someone you love waste away in a hospital bed.”
So many times growing up, I had prayed for that night to happen. I would fantasize about my dad speeding on an icy backroad, or on one of his many business trips to the beach, and his car flipping over a guardrail. I wished I felt sorry for that, but my only sorrow was that my mom had been in the car with him.
She hadn’t been a great mom. My big sister had given me most of the affection I’d gotten growing up. The meals I ate were from a maid. The only adult that had ever come to any of my talent shows or school competitions was Rhiannon.
My mom never stood up to him. She never protected us. She allowed him to make all our lives a living hell.
Older now, with a better understanding of how those dynamics worked, I had more empathy for her than I used to. Doubted I would ever completely forgive her, but I would’ve never wished her ill.
Yet, she’d been the first one to die in the hospital.
“I don’t think it’s ever easy to lose someone,” I said. Even if my dad’s death had brought me peace. “Sarah’s death was a lot harder on me. With my parents, at least I got to say goodbye. I didn’t get that with Sarah.”
Gwen studied me for a moment, mouth ajar. Like she was debating asking the question.
What happened to her?
Relief loosened my shoulders when she said instead, “Yeah, I get that. I bet it was hard having to plan their funerals on your own too. You don’t have any other family around, do you?”
“Distant cousins, but no one nearby. The funerals were mostly planned in the wills anyway. I just had to sign off on some documents.” I stretched an arm overhead and hooked it at the back of my neck. “What about you? Was anyone around to help you with your mom’s?”
“We didn’t have an actual funeral,” Gwen said. “She always wanted to be buried, but it cost too much. My savings would only cover cremation. A friend of hers had a nice house though. She let us hold the wake there.”
My heart ached, and guilt turned my stomach. “Weren’t you with your ex then? He wouldn’t chip in for your mom’s funeral?”
“He did. I only had a couple grand in savings, and it was three for the cremation.” Ever so slightly, she squinted. “Would’ve been closer to fifteen for the formal ceremony and burial.”
