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So why had she run?
But that wasn’t the part I was stuck on. The part that bothered me was that I finally knew the answer to my question. I knew why Andrew was being so nice to me, why he’d taken the boys and I into his home to begin with.
It wasn’t only guilt for getting me pregnant. It was some kind of pay-your-debt-to-karma crap. I was the second chance. I was the one he could do right by. I was his shot at redemption. My boys were…replacements.
And I’d interpreted his guilt as affection, and his effort at redemption as generosity.
I couldn’t hate him too much for it, but it sure stung. I wished he’d just told me. And the fact that he hadn’t made me think maybe there was even more to it… maybe there was something about it all that he didn’t want me to know.
So what didn’t he want me to know?
I sat for a long time, unsure of what to do or how to feel, other than betrayed and a little scared.Does he even want the boys, or is he just taking care of them because he feels like he has to? Does he even want me around?I thought about his Christmas gift… a camera. A going away present.
What could I do? Where could I go? Could I stomach staying here any longer? How badly would it hurt to hear his voice and sit in that rocking chair every afternoon, he didn’t actually want us around?
I can’t stay here. I’m going to have to leave eventually. The longer I stay, the harder it will be to go.And Ihadto go eventually. Because I was in love with Andrew Greenwood, and he was keeping me around like a stray puppy to right his past wrongs, not because he actually wanted anything to do with me.
I didn’t notice my feet moving until I was in front of the phone. My heart racing in my chest, I dialed my mom’s number.Why was I even calling her? I needed to talk to someone.
“Hello?”
“Hey mom. Um… how are you?”
She seemed surprised to hear me, and her voice was full of concern. “I’m fine, sweetheart, is everything okay?”
“I just… I think I need to leave,” I said, trying not to cry. Even now, the idea of leaving made my heart ache and my throat swell up. “There’s a lot going on and I think it’s best I leave while I still can.”
My mother hesitated and then said, “I see. You have feelings for him, don’t you.”
“Yeah.” My voice broke. “And he doesn’t… really want me here.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’d hoped… well. It doesn’t matter. Hold on, let me get Gretchen’s number. I was talking to her the other day about jobs for you…”
I heard her rustling through papers, probably digging through her purse. “You were?”
“Of course, honey. You know I miss you.”
Anger churned in my gut like sour milk. “Then how come you never visit?”
She didn’t answer.
“Dad doesn’t want you to, does he?”
It was silent on the other end.
“What is it with him?” I said, my voice harsher than I meant it to be. “You guys have told me for years that I’m a super-hero, that I’m strong, that I can do anything, and then High School rolls around and suddenly nothing I do is good enough!”
She hiccupped on the other end.
“Mom?”
I waited, my heart in my throat. My mom was the epitome of put together. She was fiercely independent, brave, and was the only one I knew who never let herself get overemotional. But I could have sworn she sobbed.
Finally, she said in a very soft voice, “There’s a lot you don’t know about your father’s and my relationship, Maria. Youarestrong. Youaregood enough… but I’m not.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Your father has always wanted sons. You know that. Well… we got pregnant with you, and I was very high risk. The doctor told me I couldn’t have another child.”
