Page 30 of The True-Blue Romance

“What’s wrong? What did she say?”

Lee tiredly rubs his face, eyes averted from me. “She’s been talking the past few months about wanting me to be her other dad.”

“Oh.”

“I think you need to talk to her about it. I keep telling her… I keep saying that it’s not—” Lee pauses, winces, and swallows hard. “She needs to hear you say it’s never going to happen.”

“Okay,” I say softly. But it could, I want to say, but it’s not the right time. Not with Savannah here. Not when Lee is convinced that’s a future that could never come true.

“I think that maybe, for the time being, it would be best if we didn’t see each other as much.”

My world crumbles around me. I step to the side to press my hand to Lee’s dresser, because if I don’t, I fear I might fall to the ground. No. No, I won’t do this again. I see it clearly now. Every time his heart feels too fragile, every time he feels like I can never love him in return, he distances himself from me. And every time, his absence aches like an organ was removed from my body without my permission. I think Lee carries my heart with him wherever he goes—and has for years—but I never understood what that absence of him in my life meant.

“Lee, no, we can⁠—”

“I think it’s for the best,” Lee says with finality. “It’s hurting Savannah.”

“Is it hurting you too?” I ask before I can stop myself.

Lee goes eerily still. “What does that mean?” Lee whispers.

“Is the way we’re living now… hurting you? Am I hurting you?”

Lee swallows hard, eyes finally meeting mine as he utters, “Yes.”

Fuck me.

I nod too quickly, feeling like I might vomit. I desperately have to fix this. I take a step toward him, but Lee takes a large step back, which tells me exactly what I need to know. He’s closed off. Nothing I say right now will mean a thing to him. I could shout from the highest mountain that I’m in love with him, and he’d run with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead of pulling him into my arms like I want to do, I lift my arms up in surrender and take a step back. Lee visibly relaxes and nods his thanks. Although I’ve always tried to show my love for him physically, I know there’s a limit.

“Let’s eat dinner, then we’ll go,” I say into the darkness of Lee’s bedroom.

The room smells like him. Like sunshine and happiness and every pleasant memory in my head. His bed is haphazardly made, which is unlike him. The bags beneath his eyes, the tired smile… There’s something else going on that he doesn’t want to tell me, but I can’t force it out of him.

I head into the kitchen without looking back. The sound of his footfalls reaches me, but only distantly, since he doesn’t join me. He must have gone to the living room with Savannah. Dinner is a quiet and subdued affair, none of us as talkative or happy as we were just an hour ago as we welcomed Buster into the family. And maybe that’s the entire problem. We’re living this life like we’re a family, but I’ve kept Lee so carefully at bay for so many years that all of us are confused. A reckoning is coming, and I’m not ready to pay the price. So, I’ve got to find a way to pay the cost while simultaneously keeping Lee, which means baring every truth to him and hoping he accepts it.

7

LEE

When things get a little too tough for me to handle, I stop by Beau’s mom’s house for a home-cooked meal. Sure, Joey cooks for me, too, but those meals can be too hard for me to accept at times—along with the meal comes the care and kindness that feel like they might choke me some days.

Cindy approaches me a little bit differently. Probably because she’s been like my mother since I was a little kid, not too long after my mother left me and my father behind for better dreams. I don’t blame her for cutting her losses once she realized my father was never going to change in any sort of meaningful way.

Cindy’s property is as gorgeous as it ever was. The oaks line the dirt driveway that leads to the farmhouse. I’d offered to take up mowing after David died, but it seems Beau maintains that chore for now. Maybe Trevor as well. I gently close my car door and head toward the front door, not the least bit surprised when she opens it with a knowing smile.

“I’ve got chicken and dumplings going. Been going all day, just how you like it,” Cindy says before enveloping me in a warm hug. I hug her tight, fighting back the urge to cry. When she pulls away, she gives me that look she always does, like she can see into the very pit of me. “Let’s eat and talk. I made red velvet cake.”

“You need to teach Joey,” I tell her as I follow her inside.

The house is warm and smells like the food she’s had cooking on the stove all day. It reminds me of how my grandma’s house used to feel when I’d needed to run away. There was always food on the stove and a filled cookie jar. I follow Cindy into the kitchen and take a seat at the dining table that’s probably been around longer than I’ve been on this earth. The older Cindy gets, the more her hair fades from a shocking auburn to a light strawberry, but I’ll always think of her as our town Reba, what with the way she styles it and the shock of red it used to be.

Cindy appears in front of me with a glass of sweet sun tea and a smile. “You look a little down in the dumps, kiddo.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“Tell me about it,” she says simply as she takes the seat next to me. Her hand covers mine and the tears gather before I can hold them back. She makes a pitying sort of face before holding my hand tighter. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for my father.”