I examined his face, and I couldn’t see any bluff there. It might have been that he was just that good, but I didn’t think so. I sighed and dropped down on the bench near the ring.
“Your life is about to change,” Baynor said as he placed one foot on the bench next to me and leaned over his knee. “Big time. More than you realize.”
“I know,” I replied quietly.
“No, you don’t,” Baynor said. “You can’t—not until you are there. But you can get prepared. You have to let go of all that anger, Liam. You gotta start rebuilding the family bridges you’ve burned, or you’re going to be constantly struggling to make it all work.”
“I don’t need them to make this work,” I said. “I’ve gone this long without them.”
“Okay, sure,” Baynor nodded. “You don’t need them.”
He leaned over and put his nose close enough to mine that I pushed my back against the wall behind me.
“But does Tria?”
*****
Deep breaths.
Fists clenched.
I walked up and down the steps, looked up to the sky, danced around on my feet a bit, and then walked the length of the porch and back again. Stretching my arms up over my head, I tried to get my heartbeat a little more under control but failed.
I didn’t know why I felt so nervous. I’d been on this porch literally thousands of times. I’d parked my bicycle here instead of putting it away in the garage. I got grounded here after Ryan and I were caught throwing dirt clods at the front door.
This place was familiar.
So why was it so hard?
I lifted my hand and pressed the button for the bell. I could hear the chimes echoing.
Ringing the bell…had I ever rung the bell before?
One of the maids opened the door. I could tell by her expression that she recognized me, but I had no idea what her name was. I just looked behind her, feeling weird about looking into the house where I grew up and knowing I wasn’t really a part of it any more. Not wanted. Not welcome.
“Liam?” Mom stepped into my field of vision.
My throat bobbed as I swallowed, but I still couldn’t get a word out. I just looked at her, and she looked at me. After a good hour and a half of that—or thirty seconds, whatever—Mom took a step forward, dismissed the maid, and opened the door wider.
“Will you…will you come in?”
Taking a slight step forward, I ended up partway in and partway out of the house, not sure what to do. Everything was cream and deep green, just like it had been when I was a kid. There was one of those sets of cubes that stacked up to look like stairs on the side of the foyer where Dad used to hide Easter eggs. I could smell garlic bread coming from the kitchen, and I was pretty sure I could hear the sound of Chopin coming from down the hall, which meant Mom had been sitting in the library reading.
I couldn’t go any farther.
“I was a stupid kid, okay?” I said quickly before all my nerve left me. “I was stupid, and that part of it wasn’t your fault. Not Dad’s, either. It was…it was me. I was stupid.”
She blinked a few times as she stood still in what might have been shock.
“I don’t know how I’m going to cope with that shit,” I continued. “But Tria…Tria needs everyone here. She doesn’t have a family, and she’s going to need everyone’s help, not just mine and not just Chelsea’s.”
My hands were shaking so badly, I shoved them into my pockets.
“She needs…she needs you, too, okay? And the baby—she’s going to need a grandmother.”
I swallowed hard and looked away.
“I…I need you, too. I don’t know how to be a parent.”