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I’d never seen her unkempt. But her short hair was held back with a thin headband, pieces of it loose in her face. She had on jeans and a worn-out Paths of Purpose long-sleeved T-shirt that was wrinkled to hell and back.
“You go to work like that?” Her nostrils flared. “He looks a thousand times worse than you.” I offered asorry to be so bluntpinch of my lips.
“I know this woman.” She pointed to the papers.
“Can you talk to her? Tell her I’m not a bad mother.”
She placed a hand on my arm. “I’ll do what I can, but she’ll still make the visit.”
I balled my fist. “She’ll take him. I’ll say something stupid and never see my baby again.” My nose tingled as tears stung my eyes.
“I’ll be there with you.”
“You will?” I blinked rapidly, but my vision blurred. “Why would you do that?” I whispered. “I’m awful.”
She squeezed, and my chest ached. This was what a mother’s love felt like.
“You’re strong. Fierce. And Blake is the amazing little boy he is because you kept yourself together in the worst of circumstances.”
“What if he says ass?” Panic flooded me.
“Then we’ll laugh. Kids pick up all kinds of things.”
I flung my arms around her and buried my face in her shoulder. She rubbed my back, promised we’d get through this together. I swallowed a sob, inhaled deeply, and pulled myself together.
“He loves you,” I said, dropping my arms. She recoiled, fresh pain washing over her face. “I don’t know what he did, but whatever it was, it was for me and Blake. He won’t talk. Won’t eat. He needs you.”
“He won’t tell me what happened or where he was. I have no choice but to assume the worst. And I can’t live with that.”
“Tell him,” I pleaded. “At least that would be a start.”
“I already know.”
Mrs. Quinn’s eyes rounded as she peeked past me to where my father stood. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” His voice was strangled. “I thought I could fix things, but I didn’t.” His face pinched in pain. “I love you, Audrey. I know you don’t believe me, but I do.”
A choked sound escaped her. She covered her mouth with her hand, stared at my father as if he were the best and most painful thing she’d ever seen.
His lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “You showed me there’s more. What it’s like to be loved. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”
She rushed through the front door we’d never closed like she couldn’t get away fast enough. Dad’s shoulders drooped. I looked at the empty space where Mrs. Quinn had just stood, uncertain if I should go after her or stay here.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I hugged him tight, and he held me, his body trembling.
“It was for nothing. All of it,” he mumbled into my hair.
“Maybe not.” I didn’t really believe that, but Patrick had taught me that sometimes brutal honesty wasn’t the best way.
Patrick.
My first instinct had been to call him the second I opened that letter. And then I remembered everything. How he’d shut me out, refused to tell me anything about what happened with that girl. I recognized that reaction because I'd done it myself more times than I wanted to admit.
Hadn’t I just thought Mrs. Quinn needed to give Dad the benefit of the doubt? Yet I hadn’t done the same for Patrick. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I needed him, and he needed me . . . but he wasn’t there for us to tackle it together. I’d have to figure out a way to be strong enough to get us through all our messes. And show him I believed in his innocence.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Patrick
