That was his reality.
And there was no changing that unless he wanted to.
“He was the complete opposite of me, in all the best ways,” Liam finally said. “I take after my mom — hard-headed and stubborn. But my brother was more like my dad. They were both patient and calm. They observed everything around them. They thought before they spoke.” He paused. “He was smart as hell, too. He’d just started his first year in college. He was going to be a doctor.”
“Wow,” I breathed.
Liam nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “What about you? What are your parents like?”
I hated that the subject had changed already, but didn’t push.
“They’re sweet,” I said with a smile. “Dad is all business at work, but kind of a clown at home, which I like best. And Mom is the more down to earth one. Dad is a salesman for some sort of up-and-coming technology that I don’t understand, if I’m being honest. Something about online technology that allows everyday people to auction off their items to each other?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. But he travels out to California a lot, and he taught me how to golf at a young age. He said a lot of important deals are made on golf courses.”
“That’s true.”
“And Mom teaches fourth grade.”
“I don’t know which is more impressive.”
I laughed. “Well, fourth graders are still sweet, thankfully. She’s always told me middle school is where it gets rough.”
“And what about the people your dad works with? You’ve golfed with them?”
“I have,” I said on a sigh as I recalled some of the more colorful occurrences. “They’re tech guys. I don’t know how else to explain them. Quirky, smart as hell. I think it’s the younger ones who frustrate Dad the most, though — the ones who have actually been able to study this stuff in college, whereas my dad had to teach himself, you know?”
“Wow. I didn’t even think of that, but yeah.”
“He’ll always say things like, ‘These kids nowadays don’t know how to apply themselves!’” I mocked. “But, if you ask me, it’s more about him feeling tied to how they do in their position, with sales and with clients. My dad doesn’t know how to not take things personal, so when one of his employees fail, he feels like he failed, too.”
“Is that where you get your need to be perfect from?”
The question shouldn’t have slapped me as hard as it did, but it made my brows fold over, my head snapping back as I digested it.
“I’ve never thought about it like that,” I answered honestly. “But… I guess that’s part of it, yeah. I don’t want to let him down. I don’t want him to think he’s done a bad job with me.” I swallowed, peeling my right hand out from under the table and holding it up. “With this.”
Liam nodded in understanding.
“Honestly, though, I think I feel most of the pressure from my mom.” I took a sip of wine — the last from my glass — before pouring another round. “She always wanted to have a house full of babies. Four kids, at least.”
Liam whistled.
“But when I came along, and she saw what a challenge I would be… it scared her. She didn’t think I would be okay unless I had all of her attention.” I shrugged. “Or maybe she was scared it would happen again, that her next baby would be deformed, too. And then where would she be?”
“I hate that word.”
“Deformed?”
He nodded.
“Well, it’s true.”
“I don’t think so.”
I gave him a look.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Look, if your parents made that decision to not have more kids because of your hand, then that’s on them. It has nothing to do with you. And you’re allowed to make mistakes, to not be perfect, to fuck up now and then. Not because of your hand, but because you’re human. We all mess up.”
“And we’re all redeemable,” I shot back with a challenge.
He breathed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head before he took another sip of his wine without acknowledging my assessment.
The conversation turned to lighter subjects — movies and music and the upcoming Olympics. I told him how I’d wanted to be a gymnast when I was a little girl, or an ice skater, but I had the coordination and balance of a drunk sloth. And he told me how he’d played basketball his entire life, even through college, but was never quite good enough to go pro.
The sun set over the river as we talked, nighttime buzzing to life around us, and when we were halfway through our second bottle of wine, I saw Angela slip out of the bar with the woman she’d been with all night. She gave me another questioning look on her way out, but I nodded to let her know it was fine, and though she didn’t look convinced, she blew me a kiss and left me to my own devices.