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I hesitated. There were a ton of questions I wanted to ask, but I’d never felt like I had I right to know. And I damn sure never wanted to share my past with her, except…now my childhood didn’t seem so daunting.
Yes, it sucked. Absolutely and in a lot of ways. I had never experienced embarrassment like when they got pulled into my shit with the Devil’s Hands and how that connected to my family.
But now? It just seemed like a part of me. Not what defined me.
So, I went for it.
“What was it like living with your mom and dad? Before you moved here?”
She startled, then blew out a hard breath. “Mother Dearest was never pleasant. She was the master gas lighter. Everything was my fault, and if something didn’t go her way, she was highly skilled at making me feel like I had something to do with it. She wasn’t abusive like she was at the end, before she left. But it was there. And Dad was more neglectful than anything else. They both cared way too much about what people thought, instead of how I felt or what I wanted.
“I hate grouping church people all together, but because of them both, I have such a sour taste in my mouth for the whole set up. They are entirely too judgmental and power hungry, spending years trying to control how I looked, what I thought, and how I presented myself to other people. Maybe I won’t always feel that way, but they turned me off. And I was lonely. My friendships were shallow, and I never even realized it until I moved here. My best friend there? I haven’t spoken to her in months. I haven’t missed her, and honestly, I doubt I would even be thinking about her now without this conversation. You guys, though? If I went a week without hearing how your day’s going, what you’re doing, are you getting closer to your dreams? I can’t imagine I would be okay with that. I think I’d learn exactly what it’s like to miss someone, when I’ve only assumed I knew what it felt like.”
I swallowed.
That was…so much deeper than where I thought she was going to go. But I loved it. This insight into her mind and how it worked fascinated me. I had the sudden urge to write it down, write about her experiences and mine, and even the guys’. I wanted to peel back the layers of who she was and know exactly how she saw the world and what colored her outlook.
“You know, you’re kind of like Rhys. His family is at the top of the social circle, and they’ve expected him to fall in line based on what’s socially acceptable and expected of his wealth and family legacy. Only yours was church and his was high society…well, as high society as Silver Ranch gets.”
One corner of her mouth tilted up. “Yeah, I’ve thought of that before. I think it’s why I liked him as much as I did in the beginning. But Trey was a psycho asshole.”
That was funny, but it wasn’t. He really was psycho.
Traffic was still light as we headed toward the Mile High Flying Club. Astrid didn’t let too much time go by before she started her own inquisition.
“What about you? You don’t ever talk about your family, or what it was like growing up.”
Nodding, I tried to think about how to best present the truth. Fuck it, I’d just spit it out. “If you notice, none of us really talk about our childhoods. It’s all about what issues are going on now and tomorrow, and the day after that.”
“Oh shit. You’re right.” She pressed two fingers to her lips as she dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Yeah, funny how I hadn’t realized that before. I think it’s because I hated my childhood. I felt less than. There’s also a lot of memories I’d be happy to never revisit.” Like ones about when my mother was actually a good mother. Because then, I’d have to think about how she died, and I never even knew.
She wasn’t the best, but she wasn’t the worst either. And I was coming to realize, that maybe, she was just human. As much as I wanted to hate her, I didn’t, but I also couldn’t properly mourn her. Just maybe, I could accept that I was only human too.
I barked out a laugh.
It had sounded good at least.
“What’s got you laughing?” She turned in her seat to look at me fully. I was content to keep my gaze on the road, not ready to let her glimpse the secrets of my soul through my eyes.
Not yet, anyway.
But someday.
“I had a tiny moment of guilt when I thought of my mom. And how I didn’t know she had died. Rationally, I know I had nothing to do with that. Irrationally, it still makes me feel like shit. When I laughed, I was reminding myself I was human and that was okay.”
The grin that appeared was quirky and understanding. “I was getting ready to lecture you on all the reasons why you shouldn’t feel guilty about anything that happened with her. You were a kid, for one. She made her own decisions and paid the consequences. As for not knowing she had passed, there’s nothing you can do about it. But it sounds like you’re doing a great job lecturing yourself. Keep going.”
This time we laughed together, and it was a carefree sound that bonded us, rather than the bitter ugly thing from a few minutes ago.
“You know, I hate talking about my family too. They made me who I am, for sure. But I’d much rather focus on the future. And making sure I’m nothing like them.”
The moment felt right for it. I reached over and weaseled my fingers through hers, resting them on her thigh.
“People always talk about having good role models, but I think having examples of what you don’t want to be is just, as if not more, important,” I said softly.
A thoughtful silence fell between us as I remembered all the things about Jare and Reaper I hated and knew I would never do. Then I went and fucked it up with Reaper. Yeah, that was a lesson I learned the hard way. I would pay better attention next time.
