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I swat at Deacon’s arm. “You did not just say that.”
“I did. You’re not the only one who gets to make declarations, darlin’.” He winks, and with his hand on the small of my back, he leads me to the kitchen.
It’s a flurry of activity as we all make our plates and take them to the huge dining room. Just as we sit down to eat, the house phone rings. I think my aunt Carol and uncle Raymond might be the only people left with a landline.
“Excuse me.” Aunt Carol steps out of the dining room to the kitchen to answer the call.
Merrick reaches for a spoon, and Uncle Raymond smacks at his hand. “Wait on your mother. She worked all afternoon cooking for you. She’s not going to eat last.” He gives his youngest, well, one of the two youngest sons, a stern look that has Merrick nodding and placing his hands in his lap.
A few minutes later, my aunt comes back into the room and takes her seat. I can tell by the look on her face that something is wrong. “What is it, dear?” Uncle Raymond asks.
She looks at her husband, and then her eyes find mine. “It’s Angela.”
My heart squeezes in my chest at the sound of my mother’s name. “What about her?” I ask. My voice is calm, even though I know that whatever it is that she’s about to say isn’t going to be good.
“She’s sick. That was your father. That was Donald,” she quickly amends. “She’s not got much longer, and she’s been asking for you. For both of us.”
Deacon slides his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his chest. I feel his lips press to the top of my head. “Sick?” I clarify.
“Yes. He didn’t say much else. Just that it wouldn’t be long and that she would like to see both of us.”
“You’re not going, right?” Maverick asks. He’s one of the twins. “They weren’t good to you. Dad, we can’t let her go. And Mom? No. They stay here.” He crosses his arms over his chest as if his word is final. He’s sitting around a table with his seven older brothers, his father, Deacon, and his twin, and he doesn’t seem to have a single care about being the one tossing out orders. My heart melts.
“You’re right, Mav. They weren’t good to me. However, you and your family taught me what family is supposed to be.” I turn to look at Deacon. “And you,” I say softly, but I know my family can hear me. “You erased him and showed me what it’s like to have the unconditional love of a man.”
Deacon swallows hard. “Tell me what you want to do, Rams. Whatever you decide, it’s your choice. There will be no judgment. You have every right to deny her request.”
He’s right. I do. “I know. However, I can’t help but think that if she’s asking for me, maybe she’s changed. Maybe she’s realized that turning a blind eye to my father’s abuse all those years wasn’t the right choice. Maybe she wants to apologize.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Archer asks.
Tears well in my eyes. “If she doesn’t” I clear my throat. “Then I have all of you. I have my family, and I have the love of a good, honest man who would rather die than ever hurt me. It might hurt, but it won’t break me. I have too many people who love me now. Too many people who are in my corner for that to happen.”
Murmurs of agreement greet me, and I smile through my mist-filled eyes. “As Deacon said, we stand behind you,” Aunt Carol tells me.
“What about you? Are you going to go?”
She takes the time to think about her answer while the table full of rowdy boys, well men, are as quiet as mice waiting for her reply. “No. I’m not going. Things with my sister have been strained for years. I will never forgive her for the hurtful things she’s said to me, and there is no way I can see either of them without starting a war after learning how they treated you. My relationship with Angela ended long ago. And before you boys say anything,” she glances around the table at each of her sons, “I know I talk about forgiveness. I know that it’s important, but in this particular case, I just can’t do it. Too much has been said. Too much has been done, and in Ramsey’s case, too much was left alone.” She pauses when her eyes land on me. “Ramsey, you make the choice for you. This might be the closure that you need. You simply walked away. Maybe you need for them to see how strong you are. Maybe you need for them to see that you didn’t need their money or their name to be happy or make a life for yourself. The choice is yours and yours alone to make.”
