“That’s so funny, because your grandfather is the sweetest man.”
“He’s softened over the years. He was a lot more serious when he was younger. In many ways, he’s like a totally different person now—even softer since my grandmother died.”
Aspyn’s eyes wandered over to the trees blowing in the breeze before she looked back at me. “You started to tell me what happened with your mother earlier before Kiki came out bleeding.”
I nodded. “To make a very long story short, my dad barely knew my mother when he got her pregnant. My grandparents had a cottage down at the shore. They rented it out the majority of the time, but occasionally they’d close the bakery and head down there. They let my dad stay there alone when it wasn’t rented out. He met my mother there one summer. She was vacationing by the beach with her family. Dad was twenty-two, and she was eighteen.” I exhaled. “One thing led to another, and she got pregnant. She went back home to Boston and then contacted him to tell him she was pregnant and probably getting an abortion. Her parents also wanted that. And even though my dad told her he’d support any decision she made, he begged her not to terminate me. He told her he would raise me himself. Anyway, he traveled to Boston, and somehow he was able to convince her to have me. Her parents weren’t happy. After I was born, she signed her rights over to my father.”
“Did you ever meet her?”
“Once…when I was fifteen. My dad had sent her photos over the years, although she’d never contacted me. I didn’t know he’d kept in touch with her until my teens. I finally decided to reach out to her myself my sophomore year in high school. She agreed to come to New Jersey to meet me, but I was still so filled with anger toward her for abandoning me that I didn’t open up much when we met. I just wanted to meet her out of curiosity. She was nice enough, but I didn’t feel a strong connection. I think I was also blocking the possibility of that as a protective mechanism.”
Aspyn nodded. “What had become of her life?”
“She was some sort of executive—traveled a lot for work. She’d always put her education and career first. She never had any other kids.” I paused, feeling an unwanted tension bubbling in my chest. “When I was in grad school, I got an email from her saying she was sick. She asked me to come visit her, said she wanted to talk to me about some stuff. I’d planned to go the week after my finals. But she passed away before I had the chance.” I took a slow breath. “I often wonder what she wanted to say to me. She left me a good amount of money, but I’d give it all back for a chance to talk to her.”
Aspyn surprised me by reaching across the table to squeeze my arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“What kind of illness did she have?”
“It was an aggressive form of breast cancer. I did go to her funeral.” I shook my head. “It was surreal.”
“You met her family there?”
“I did. Her parents and brother. But like when I met my mother, the connection just wasn’t there. I think knowing her parents hadn’t wanted me in this world made me incapable of bonding with them in any way. But my mother went against them to have me. So, I could forgive her, but it was hard to want to form any connection with her parents.”
“I get it,” she whispered.
“What happened to your sister…and to Kiki’s father?” I asked after a moment.
Aspyn swallowed. “They had a car accident on a rainy night. Ashlyn and her boyfriend, Toby, both died on impact.”
“God, I’m so sorry.”
“As Kiki alluded to earlier, she was only six months old at the time, so she doesn’t remember them. I’m just so grateful she wasn’t with them that night.”
“I can imagine.” I paused. “Look, I want to apologize again for what I said that first day—about you being stuck in a time warp. That still eats away at me. Obviously, I didn’t know shit about your life, and I still don’t know shit about what it’s like to walk in your shoes.”
Aspyn smiled. “I didn’t blame you for your ignorance then. And it’s true that it would have benefitted me to experience life away from Meadowbrook. There’s no denying that.”
“Despite what I said, the grass isn’t always greener. The more I spend time here, the more I’m starting to think there really is no place like home—as corny as that sounds.” I laughed. “I think I’d been so focused on getting the hell out of here before college, I never stopped to appreciate what a great place this was to grow up. It’s like I can see it through a different lens now.”