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I blinked up at him.
“You talk about your dad a lot, but I haven’t heard you say anything about your mom. Why is that?”
My gaze lowered, and I bit my bottom lip. It was inevitable this would come up. I could choose to not discuss it. I never did with anyone, not even Diego. But I knew I needed to stop avoiding the topic. “She… she’s the reason we came here. And the reason… I was attacked by a dog.”
Tyr’s pace slowed. “What do you mean?”
I shoved my hands into my pockets and chewed my lip. How to explain was on the tip of my tongue, but the words lodged. “It… she…”
Dammit, Astrid, just say it. Admit reality so you can heal.
“She was abusive, to the point she was locked up for trying to kill me.”
Tyr came to a halt. Horror contorted his face. “She… how could someone do that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. To this day, I still don’t know why she hated me so much. Dad told me she was the perfect mom for the first few years of my life. And then something happened. She started acting weird, and…”
The memories swarmed in my mind. Dark and terrifying. “She laughed—laughed the whole time she had our family dog attack me. Like my screams brought her some twisted joy…”
I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the memories. “So, yeah. We don’t talk about her.”
A warm, calloused hand wrapped around mine. I stared at Tyr’s massive hand engulfing mine. His grip was tight, but didn’t hurt. It felt protective. “I’m sorry you went through that. And I’m thankful you were willing to share it with me.”
I forced a smile, though did notice I felt a little lighter.
We continued on until the forest opened up with the house coming into view. I swerved us down the back, past the pool and woodpile to a large building tucked in at the edge of the clearing. I opened the door, the musky, sweet woodsy scent of wood shavings and lacquer greeting me, and let Tyr in, though I had to stop Angel from following. She whined and pawed at the closed door, but she wasn’t allowed in here for safety reasons.
“This is the workshop,” I said, stating the obvious for no other reason than to break the silence.
Tyr gazed around at the various tools and projects, both in process and finished. “There’s a lot to admire. Anything I’m not allowed to touch?”
I shook my head. “Not that I’m aware of. Pretty sure all stained and lacquered projects are dried by now.”
He nodded and wandered over to several tables. I watched him take in every little detail, more than the usual person did.
“Do you have experience with carpentry?” I asked.
“I’ve done a few home-fixer projects, but nothing like this.” His hand traced a bone inlay adhered to a tabletop’s edge. “Reminds me of the work by my late father-in-law.”
I cocked my head.Interesting.“Profession or hobby for him?”
“Profession. It was a family trade. His son took over the business when he died.”
I pursed my lips.Even more interesting.Made sense why Tyr was so interested in what my father did, at least. Though, something felt like it was more than that, and I didn’t know why.How strange her family and mine had the same profession.
He turned to look at me. “Do you have any active projects?”
I gestured to two large, rough boards. “I don’t have any personal projects started, but my dad and I are trying out a resin table project after I experimented with resin crafts all year.”
Tyr walked over to the pieces. “How much will you cut these down?”
I drew up next to him and felt the rough bark. “These came from an old log, so we’ll probably have to refine them to be rid of any unstable parts. Hopefully not too much, as I like the shape these create as it is.”
I walked over to a pile of oak planks. “I do have a personal project planned, though. I want to replace a lot of the older outdoor seating we have at the cabins.”
His lips twisted. “I want to scold you for thinking about working, but I think this is skirting the line enough that I’ll let it pass.”
I grinned. I didn’t care if others considered it work. I didn’t, so that was all that mattered to me.
