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“I guess I never stopped holding out hope that you’d come live with us one day,” she says softly. “Call me crazy, but there it is.”
I have no idea what to say to that, and sure, calling her crazy is on the list of what I could say, but it’s way at the bottom of it.
“I suppose I never made it easy for you, after you left,” I finally manage.
She shrugs. “I didn’t make it easy for you either. You loved your dad. I should’ve cleaned up his house. I’ll go this afternoon and do that.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “My responsibility.”
She stands up too and touches my arm lightly. It’s like a bird landed there. “You’ve got other things to worry about now. And I want to do this for you.”
I don’t remember the last time I had a pleasant, heartfelt conversation with my mom. Not because she didn’t try, but because I didn’t want to. It’s the same with my brother. I should make things right with him too, but it’s gonna have to wait now.
Bea needs me now. She must be going through some seriously bad shit right now, and she’s clearly surrounded by people who don’t believe her fully. The cops were right about that much at least. So I guess I’m it for her right now. And I better hurry up and go there.
