Page 89 of Animal Beats

I put my fork down. “Before the divorce, I thought she was the best thing since sliced bread. Literally. She used to make these peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—grape jelly, of course⁠—”

“Of course.”

“Yes, well, she would cut off the crusts for me. All my other classmates were always so jealous. They would rip their crusts off. But I knew that Mother prepared them only for me.”

Hayden smiles. “Sounds like something my mom did for me. Not PBJs, though. She did it with grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. The best lunch ever.”

We sit in silence, locked into memories.

She asks, “Do you think your father forced your mother to move away during the divorce?”

“I never considered that before.”

“I had a friend whose parents got divorced when I was in middle school, and it turned out her father paid her mom to move out of state. Yours fits the same M.O. He seems the type.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past him.” I add some more pasta on my fork. “Come to think about it, Mother mentioned something sort of along these lines when she called.”

Hayden nods. “You told me you talked with her for years after your parents divorced. What did you discuss?”

I lower my fork. “Honestly, I didn’t want much to do with her. I started out an angry little boy, and turned into a rebellious teen. Then I joined the band and simply distanced myself from her because I could.”

“What if your father orchestrated everything between you, to his advantage?”

I consider her suggestion. “What would he get out of it? I mean, he’s a jerk, but what possible benefit could he get by making me hate my mother?”

She shrugs. “Maybe he did it to hurt her more. As if divorcing her weren’t enough, he managed to turn you against her.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “You’re asking me to rewrite my entire childhood.”

But the more I mull it over, the less impossible it feels.

“She did try to maintain an open line of communication between us, but, well, I wasn’t receptive.” I finish my flute and point to the bottle. She shakes her head.

“Do you think you could possibly talk with her? Get her side of the story, now that you’re an adult?”

Her question hits hard. “I’ve spent most of my life hating the woman. Was I wrong?”

“No. Not wrong.” Her finger circles the rim of her glass. “You were being misdirected, thanks to your father.”

I stare at the tabletop, not seeing anything on it. Her words ring true.

“Damn it.”

Her head tilts.

“I’m aware that this is only the first step in possibly reviving our ruined relationship. Because of you, I’d like to try.” I give her a kiss. “If you don’t mind, I have a phone call to make.”

She beams at me, and I know, deep in my gut, this is the right move.

Hanging up my cell, I allow my heart rate to calm. Hayden was right about everything. I’m lighter than I’ve felt in ages.

I walk into the living room, where Hayden’s sitting, working on her tablet. I snuggle up to her, kissing the top of her head. “You were spot on.”

“I’m glad.” She makes herself comfy against my body.

“We’re not a bonded pair yet, for sure, but the lines of communication have been re-opened.” I take a deep breath. “I gave her the money she needed. And my new number.”

“Oh, Río, this is good news. I’m so happy you have one parent on your side.”