“It’s another of the few things he can’t resist.”
I quirk a brow. “Are you telling me to go seduce your son with apple pie?”
“Whatever gets me a grandchild.”
I set a piece in front of her. “I need him speaking to me first.”
“He’s good at hiding.”
“Tell me ‘bout it.” I sigh, wiping the counter before rinsing out the dishrag.
“He comes alive with you around. It might be hard for you to understand because you haven’t watched him from the beginning. He spent the first two years of his life covering our mouths to shut us up. He didn’t like the noise. Matter of fact, his first words were Mama and shut up.”
“Funny, shut up were his first words to me too.”
We both laugh as I pull a seat at the table.
“But when that child cracked a smile, he lit up the room. When he laughed, he laughed hysterically. I was so in love with my little boy.” She sips her coffee and sets it down. “He didn’t play with other children well and isolated a lot until Trevor came along. He claimed his brother the minute we brought him home. He’s always been quiet. Always, until he started getting in trouble at school. And it wasn’t words he was using that got him in hot water.”
“Fighting?”
“Yeah.”
“He likes his own noise, communicates in his own way. He seemed to blossom some in college, but when he came back, it’s like he went into himself again. Over the last few years, I’ve watched his smile fade and heard many more shut ups. But with you, it’s as if he’s picking up a conversation that he’s been having his whole life.”
I fight the threatening tears. It’s true. The man I met was confident, moody, self-assured, and highly opinionated, but only around me. To others, he was an introvert.
“Sometimes, I wonder if we did right by him. Should we have done more? Got him counseling or pried more into his life or something.”
“He’s an amazing man,” I say honestly.
“He is. But I’m not at all happy about the fact that he’s lashing out all the time and isolating more. But he’s still talking, and I’ve seen him crack a smile a mile wide since you’ve been here. His heart isn’t closed to you, Harper. You keep managing to find a code very few have access to. Don’t give up on him.”
“I won’t.” I stand, the rattle in my chest hard to bear. “I’ll get Trevor and Jack a piece.”
“Let me do that. Take one to Lance.” She stands and cuts a mammoth piece of pie and plates it along with a fork before handing it to me.
I reluctantly take it. “You’re setting me up for failure.”
“It’s pie. What’s he going to do, throw it at you?”
We give each other a look, and both burst into laughter, knowing it’s a real possibility at this point with his hot and cold.
“If he does, come get me, I’ll kick his ass.”
“Deal.”
“You two will work it out,” she says, stretching. “I need to go pry my drunken husband from his recliner.” She looks down at the pie. “This should do it.”
“Night, Jeannie.”
“Night, darlin’.”
I make my way down the hall toward Lance’s room and hear Trevor groan. “Jesus, not that fucking song again.” His door closes, and that’s when I hear it. The music coming from Lance’s room. Just outside his door, I hear the opening lyrics to “Rest in Pieces” by Saliva. It’s while standing there that I realize the words are meant for me. He’s talking to me.
It’s how we’ve always communicated. It’s the way he showed me who he was, told me about his struggles, his demons. It’s the same way I showed him what I was about, showed him the ways I wanted him.
Lance always said he would get better at communication when I dubbed him Shakespeare in jest, but this is his way. I listen to the lyrics, my heart breaking when he tells me I’m beautiful, but I’ve messed with his head long enough, and he needs me to leave. It’s unbearable.