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I half listen as Paul and Moira chat about an upcoming trip to visit a friend in Stony Point, only an hour or so away.
I still don’t know how to broach the topic of spending more time with my family, but almost immediately, an opportunity presents itself.
“We can go golfing at Patriot Hills, I’ve heard it’s a great course. Atticus, you want some bread to dip in your soup?” Moira passes me the bread bowl.
Paul finishes chewing. “Yeah. Patriot Hills would be great.”
I take the bread bowl and set it next to my bowl of soup. “I could go too.”
Their gazes swing toward me at the same time. Paul’s spoon is lifted halfway to his mouth and Moira’s eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.
My face heats. “I mean, if you want. It’s not far. Just let me know when you’re going, and I could meet you there.”
Paul finds his voice first. “You like golf?”
“I’ve never tried it. But I’d like to.”
Moira wipes her mouth with her napkin, swallowing her food and glancing over at Uncle Paul before answering. “That would be great. We would love that.”
But I can’t tell if she means it. She sounds... confused.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Do you have clubs?”
I hesitate. “No.” I put my spoon down, wiping my sweating palms on my knees. “It’s not just about golf. It’s about spending time with my family.” The only family I have left.
Silence stretches out between us, except for the tick of the old cuckoo clock on the wall and my heart thudding in my ears.
Moira hiccups and then covers her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice thick. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”
It takes me almost a minute to register her words. “You... didn’t?”
Moira shakes her head. “You always wanted to keep yourself apart and put up these walls between you and the world. We noticed it when you first came here, and you were so quiet and polite. You were the perfect child, but you had gone through such a terrible loss.”
I frown. “And that was a problem?”
Paul shakes his head. “Not a problem. But you were just a kid who’d lost his parents. The girls would get in trouble every other week.”
“You wanted me to get in trouble?”
She reaches across the table, putting her hand over mine. “We wanted you to be free to make mistakes. To be happy. We knew you were hurting, and we thought the walls would come down eventually and you needed space and time to know you were safe. But then as the months went on, we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know how to get through to you, to get you to talk or open up.”
They exchange a glance and then Paul speaks. “We thought you were holding yourself apart because you were frightened to be close to anyone again.”
Moira nods. “We worried all the time, wondering if we were doing the right thing by waiting to see if you could feel your way through, find the path forward without us pushing or making you uncomfortable in any way.”
I blink in surprise. “I thought I was a burden.”
“No,” Paul’s response is immediate. “Never a burden.”
“I heard you talking about how expensive things were.”
“Shit,” Paul murmurs.
I almost laugh. I’ve never heard him curse.
Moira leans back removing her hand from over mine to fiddle with her napkin. “Expenses may have been tight here and there, but that was never your fault. We didn’t blame you for our circumstances. That was never on you, you hear me?”
