Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
As we moved from the porch to the kitchen and Sugar Mae served up broccoli salad and roasted chicken, I remembered more. Seeing Bob and Sugar Mae here, at the lake house, hadn’t jogged my memory because while they must have visited here at the lake, the Murrells were from Willow Springs.
As I talked and answered questions, memories came flooding back. Coming home from school and finding Mae and my mother at the kitchen table. My father, in his office, talking to Bob about who knew what, because I was a kid and I didn’t pay that much attention to the grown-ups. I realized that my mother hadn’t just moved us away from home, she’d excised a huge part of her life completely. For Bob and Mae, losing my father and then my mother and me so close together must have been like losing a part of themselves.
We talked into the night, Bob reminding me that my father had loved to fly-fish, something I’d forgotten, and Mae asking if my mother still devoured murder mysteries, then frowning at me when I told her I didn’t know.
“I haven’t seen my mother in almost a year,” I told her. “Things weren’t the same after Dad…” I trailed off. I didn’t know how to explain the distance between us. I loved my mom. She’d always been my champion, my rock, ready with a hug or sage advice. But she’d also denied me my father, so bitter over his death that she refused to speak of him, refused to let me have my memories. It was like she’d been the perfect mom until it came to anything that had to do with my dad. Then she became a black hole, empty and cold. We should have grieved together, but instead, we’d grieved alone, and I was pretty sure both of us had done it wrong.
And on top of that, we’d fought bitterly when I told her why Sterling dumped me. Sterling wasn’t the only woman I loved who I’d lied to. I’d never told my mom the exact name of my new employers, or Sterling’s true identity. When the truth came out, I wasn’t sure what my mother was more angry about: me lying about my job, that I’d lost the woman I loved, or that I’d reclaimed the Vitellius.
That fucking statue, as she called it. According to my mother, the Vitellius had ruined our lives once, and now I was letting it ruin my life all over again. Leave your father in the past where he belongs, she’d said and hung up on me. It had taken months to get on speaking terms again, and things were still distant between us.
My mother was right. I shouldn’t have lied. Not to her, not to Sterling, not to anyone. But she was also wrong because I never would have met Sterling if I hadn’t gone after the Vitellius. And the Vitellius was going to give me a shot at getting her back. And maybe a little bit of my father as well. But I couldn’t tell my mom that. She’d never been able to see things clearly when it came to my dad.
Mae shook her head, sharing a long, heavy look with her husband. “She was so angry at Alan for leaving her. I’d hoped by now she would have forgiven him.”
“She’s remarried,” I said, a faint smile coming to the surface at the thought of my stepfather. “Jerry’s a good guy. I think she loves him. But I don’t think she’s forgiven my father.” My throat tight, I said, “I’m not sure I have either.”
Sterling made a rough sound in her throat and stroked her fingers over the back of my hand. I couldn’t look at her. I hated admitting I was still angry at my father. And I knew instinctively that my anger was different from my mother’s. Her loss was, in a way, a deeper betrayal. For all their arguments, they’d loved each other. And then he’d knowingly taken that away from her. From us.
“I still don’t understand,” I said. Bob knew what I meant. He patted my hand.
“Me either, son. But I’ve learned that in life, we rarely know the depth of another person’s heart, even when we think we know them well. And Alan— Alan must have been struggling to have made the choices he did.”
I nodded, my throat locked tight, anger and grief swirling in my chest.
“Well,” Mae said, glancing at the clock, “I don’t know about you two, but it’s past my bedtime. Especially when I had wine in the afternoon.” She reached across the table, taking my hand in a tight squeeze, her smile suddenly as dazzling as Sterling’s. “I appreciate you indulging us with your time and your company. Nothing can bring back the past, but seeing you all grown up goes a long way.” She let go of my hand and stood. “Let me show you to the guest room.”