I growled back, “I don’t care for his tone or implication.” The audacity that he would question my decision or make someone who was important to me feel less than was absolutely unacceptable. He didn’t like any woman I dated, which was why I didn’t bring them around. He didn’t approve of me proposing to Kristen, but he forgot that I didn’t need or want his approval.
“The child isn’t yours, so I’m not pressing for you make this permanent. The brunette would have been better,” he said dispassionately mentioning Kristen. “I’m sure you’ll work her out of your system like all the others.” Both my mother and Remi gasped again, and I was in too much shock to respond rationally without committing a crime and ruining my own career over his behavior.
I stood up, pushing my chair back. Dinner was fucking over.
“Sweet girl, let’s go. I’m not going to subject us to this.”
She worried her bottom lip, and I leaned down to kiss her, making a lewd point that she wasn’t going anywhere. I took Ethan from her arms, tucking him into my chest. His little hands gripped my shirt, and I patted his baby butt. I was staking a claim on him too whether they liked it or not.
“Evan,” he pleaded but this was an argument bound to happen. My mother sat back meekly observing, and it sickened me that even now she had nothing to fight back with. I didn’t expect her to disagree with my dad even after all these years, but I had hoped she would have done something besides sit there and stare into the vast nothingness of the wall behind us.
33
Remi
Doorbell chimes interrupted my humming and washing dishes. Ethan was fast asleep in the carrier against my chest, safely snuggled against my heart. Who would be visiting the house now? I hadn’t called the girls and we planned to meet tomorrow after yoga for lunch since Evan was home and wanted guy time with Ethan to give me a short break I didn’t need, but he wanted to give me. Bless his sweet heart.
Opening the door, I found his mother standing on the porch, eyes downcast and wringing her hands. “Mrs. Rooney, come in.” I opened the door, urging her inside. She came in nervously, looking around.
“I’m so sorry about dinner the other night. Evan’s father can be…”
I waved her comment off. Evan had apologized about ten times, looking like a kicked dog, and it broke my heart. I knew parental disappointment intimately.
“Let’s sit at the table. Can I make you some tea?” I ushered her toward the small table in the kitchen, then helped her to sit down. This was completely unexpected, but I had practice at accepting help now and if I could make things better for Evan and his mother, then I would try.
I set out tea cups and a box of pastries on the table. I didn’t trust myself to cook anything besides macaroni and cheese from the box until Evan fessed up to the busted tooth. His mother’s hands shook, the cup rattling on the porcelain as she took a sip and smiled.
“Evan was always a good son. The middle child,” she said and I agreed, noddi
ng.
“What was he like as a boy?” I asked eagerly for a chance at this rare glimpse into his life before me.
“Mischievous at first and then quiet and serious,” she answered.
“I bet he was adorable.”
“My beautiful boy. A little like your son, Ethan.” The memories made me warm up to her visit, easing the butterfly of nerves. “His sister, Shelby, is the dreamer. His older brother, Brody, has more in common with his father than anyone cares to admit. Angry. Hard. But Evan has always been the mediator.”
“Mrs. Rooney, I don’t want to pry but—”
She put a hand up, stopping me. “Oh, I know. You have questions about his father.” As timid as she was in the presence of his father, she opened up to me, setting the tea cup down. “I had my moments during Evan’s childhood. I still do. I drink sometimes and his father hates it. I go to meetings here and there despite it embarrassing his father to high heaven.”
“Drink? What do you mean?”
“I’m an alcoholic, dear. Sometimes the meetings help and sometimes the devil latches on and I can’t help myself.” It was then I noticed the bloodshot eyes and her skin tone looking off.
“I appreciate your honesty, but that doesn’t, well, it shouldn’t be okay for Mr. Rooney to treat you like that.”
“He’s a pastor and my disease embarrasses him. Evan thinks I should leave him, but where would I go? How would I take care of myself?” She sounded forlorn and yet practical and even though I didn’t agree with her, I respected her decision.
“I’m sure Evan would want—”
“Honey, my son protected me all these years. I can handle his father now. I doubt they’ll ever be close, but I miss my son. I miss all of my children. I hope you can understand that.” She patted my hand, grimacing as if old memories hovered at the surface.
I could understand a mother’s love. Sure she made mistakes and she was trying to find a way to make it better. I didn’t know how I could help her. All families had something they didn’t like about them. This was Evan’s burden as much as it was mine now.
“Would you, would you like to hold Ethan?” I asked, wringing my own hands nervously. She wasn’t blood-related to my son, but I loved hers and wanted there to be a bond of some kind between them.