I scratched on the leather, making little lines. “Did you ever cheat on Mom?”
He blanched. “Never.”
“You slept in separate beds for as long as I can remember…” I drifted off. I don’t know why I’d even asked. “It must have been hard for you. Not having a real wife. Of course, if Cara had lived, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We’d be a happy family of four.”
He sighed, exasperated. “Cara was not your fault.”
Yeah, right. Same old conversation. “I’m your son. You’re supposed to say that.”
He stood and paced, stopping to stare down at a photo of the four of us. “Yes, she’s gone, but she’d have ridden her bike out into the road if her mother had been here, too. Or me. She was strong-willed, just like you, and she loved to be outside. When you’re a parent, you’ll know you can’t keep your eyes on them constantly. Perhaps it’s on me because I never put that gate up at the end of the drive. I’d been talking about it for months, but I got busy…” His voice tapered off, and I startled at the flicker of guilt I caught. Is that what I sounded like?
He continued. “Perhaps it was Mary-Carmen’s fault for buying the bicycle or leaving her with a kid that didn’t understand the responsibilities. But most of all, the man who drove that truck was speeding. That’s what you should remember.”
“He hit her because I wasn’t there.” My hands balled up. “You don’t really blame yourself, do you?”
Because I didn’t want my torment for him.
He winced. “Some. All the what-ifs that went through my mind drove me crazy for a while, but then your mother got steadily worse and my energy went there.”
Mother.
I dug my fists into the side of my leg, my body tensing, waiting for the onslaught of pain that thought always brought. Annndd…it hit. I hunched down, hating myself. “I failed her too. I may as well have pulled that trigger myself.”
“You did not pull that trigger.” He sat beside me, his weight feeling good, like I wasn’t alone. “And I was supposed to be here, not you.”
“But I knew something was up. She was gearing up for another go around. I knew.”
“She used a gun, Cuba. She didn’t want you to save her this time.”
I scowled. “Just because you think she meant business, then it’s not on me?”
“She had deep-rooted problems that had nothing to do with Cara. I knew it when I married her, but when you love someone, it doesn’t matter what kind of past or problems they bring. Love covers a lot.”
He sighed. “Could you have watched over your mother your entire life? She would have eventually found a way whether you were here or not. Do you blame me for not getting rid of all the guns in the house before I left town?”
I shook my head.
Dad said, “She made her choices, but we have to live. I’m hurting too, and it’s killing me inside to see us like this.”
“I’m fine,” I said. But I wasn’t.
And where the hell have you been for a year was on the tip of my tongue.
But here’s the thing, I’d always had a good relationship with my dad even after Cara.
I’d help him with his basketball camp in the summers, and he’d try his best to be at every football game or rowing event I had. And he’d always been proud of me, especially for my desire to be a doctor. But now? I’d squandered an entire year away, and honestly, he hadn’t really noticed, or at least he hadn’t until this moment.
As if he’d read my thoughts, he said, “I’ve been gone too much when I should have been here more. And, I’m sorry for it. Work and the team was my way of dealing with her death, I guess. But, I’ve made a decision. I’m retiring, selling the team. Maybe focus more on charity work. Maybe I can run a full time charity, do a yearlong camp for kids this time.” He seemed to hold his breath. “Would you like to help me?”
That would be…good.
I nodded, and he patted me on the back, the way men do when they’re emotional, and I cracked a little, leaning into him.
He was all I had left.
Then, I took a breath, preparing myself for a possible shit-storm. “I have something to tell you.”
He arched a brow. “About the pretty girl upstairs?”
Ah, no. And that kinda broke my heart a little. If Dovey had been pregnant, this would be a whole other story. I’d be down on my knees begging her to give me another chance. I’d move the universe for her, if she’d let me be part of her life.
But she wasn’t the one who needed me right now.
“Emma Easton is pregnant.”
He shot up, eyes blazing. Nice dad gone.
“What the hell? What have I told you about using protection? Dammit, we’ve had this conversation a million times.” He paced around the room, hands on his hips.
“I found out today it’s not mine…although it could be, I’m not denying that. I haven’t been with her in several months. Basically, the baby is too young to be mine. Anyway, she’s hurting, and her parents are religious assholes.”
He sat back down, a grim expression. He knew them well since we’d all spent time at the same country clubs and school events.
“Her parents tossed her out tonight when we told them. So she’s staying with a cousin right now, trying to figure out what to do, afraid everyone will find out.” I sighed, held out my hands. “I told her I’d help. I’m all she has.”