“Ronnie is Trevor’s fiancée! He asked her to marry him the other day and she said ‘yes.’ I can’t believe my son is getting married,” he finishes, throwing me a proud grin.
Ronnie blushes beside me, never liking to be the center of attention. Which is strange to me, since she should be used to receiving tons of attention by now—considering I practically shower her with it.
“Well, I couldn’t turn him down. Your son is amazing,” Ronnie says, giving me a warm smile.
I love seeing her smile at me this way. It means I must be doing something right.
“I can’t say I didn’t see it coming,” my dad teases. “He talks about you constantly. He gave me an earful before you two even started dating. You should’ve heard him, he—”
“Dad!” I cut him off. He doesn’t need to air my dirty laundry in front of my girl. That shit is so embarrassing. I know she knows how into her I was, but she doesn’t need to know about the times I’d seek advice from my old man. It’s not like I could help myself. I was completely lost when it came to taking a woman out on a proper date. Especially a woman I was quickly falling for.
“Sorry,” he says insincerely, trying hard to keep his teasing smile at bay. “Maybe I can tell you about it another time,” he tells Ronnie with a wink.
“I’d like that. I’m curious about what Trevor used to talk to you about,” she responds, shooting me a coy look out of the corner of her eye.
I can’t take my eyes off her as I shake my head in disapproval. “You don’t need to hear that sh—stuff, Ronnie.”
My gaze moves toward Felicity, who’s staring at my girl with a small, but incredibly warm, smile. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Ronnie. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Now that my she’s talking, my mind comes to a standstill. There’s something about hearing her voice that causes me to shut down. Part of me wonders if it’s because—deep down—I remember the sweet sound. While another part just doesn’t know what the hell to make of it. Luckily, Ronnie’s happy to speak up since I’ve become cerebral and completely lost in thought at her side. My emotions are constantly switching from anger, to wanting, to absolute and utter fucking confusion.
“I hope it’s all been good things,” Ronnie answers her with a friendly laugh. “I’ve heard a lot about you, as well.”
Felicity pales at this, knowing that whatever could’ve been said probably isn’t all that flattering. However, what could I have possibly said about her that was favorable? I only know her as the woman who left me behind without a second thought. Dad seems to notice her distress, and quickly shifts the conversation to something less upsetting to everyone. He can’t evade the topic forever, though. Sooner or later—shit is going to become uncomfortable.
“Why don’t you show us your ring, Ronnie? I’m curious to see what my son picked out,” Dad says conversationally.
Ronnie grins as she looks down at her left hand before laying her arm across the tabletop. She displays her hand for my parents to get a better look at the pearl surrounded by a circle of diamonds.
“Isn’t it gorgeous? Trevor picked it out all by himself.” She pauses, looks at Grey and then giggles. “Well, he did have some help from this little guy, I suppose,” she finishes as she reaches her hand down to tickle his stomach. He squeals in laughter and wiggles in my embrace.
“That’s wonderful,” Felicity quietly says as she stares at my girl in awe. When I look at her, her eyes drop to her lap and a blush warms her cheeks. She seems out of place and fraught, yet, she looks thrilled to be here. “I’m so happy for you two. You’re a beautiful couple.”
I can tell that my engagement has moved her more than she’s expressed. She’s come back to fill in the “mother role” and I’m gaining a family of my own. Her discomfort doesn’t sit well with me, and despite it all, I wish I could comfort her in some way. She looks so unsure about everything as she deals with our odd situation. It’s a bit unnerving to see. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“Thanks, Ms. Leigh. I was lucky to find him.”
Ms. Leigh sounds so fucking strange—but I can understand Ronnie’s formality. What the hell should we be calling her? Felicity seems too… well… friendly, I suppose. I know I can’t bring myself to call her “mom” just yet, if ever. Although, calling her something like “Ms. Leigh” seems too formal, especially considering the fact that this woman gave birth to me, even if she did leave me. Fuck. This whole thing is beginning to make me feel antsy. I just want to jump up and run for the door. God, I feel like a kid again and I fucking hate it. I know Grey must feel the shift in my mood because he begins to fuss on my lap until I hold him against my chest.
“You can call me ‘Felicity.’ My mother goes by ‘Ms. Leigh,’ ” she jokes with a shy smile.
Her mother… I have an entire family I don’t know a fucking thing about! Not only did I miss growing up with my biological mother, but I’ve spent my entire life being cut off from an extended family that could’ve loved me, as well. All because my mom left and my dad decided to fucking lie to me for my entire existence. I’m making every effort to forgive them, but it’s hard. The knowledge of everything I missed out on is too fucking upsetting.
“So, have you two thought about a date for the wedding?”
As Felicity and my girl make small-talk, I sit back in silence holding Grey. I don’t want to contribute to the conversation, despite wanting to know my biological mom. I thought all this would be a hell of a lot easier. Instead, seeing her makes me clam up. I can’t seem to find any words to say to her at this point. I have so many questions, but I can’t find it within myself to ask them just yet. I want answers from her; I deserve answers from her. I don’t want to just sit here and dance around the elephant in the room while playing fucking “catch-up.” I want to know why I haven’t seen her until now. I want to know what made her give me up without a second thought. All of these questions begin to burn a hole in my brain, and yet, that’s where they remain. They never escape past my lips because I can’t seem to gain the courage vocalize them. The shock of seeing her might just be too fucking much.
While talking to Ronnie about wedding plans, Felicity shoots me glances here and there. It’s as if she’s trying to decide what to say to me. It looks like we both suck at communicating when it seems to matter most. What can you really say to the child you abandoned, though? What can I say to the woman who left me behind? No wonder we aren’t too fucking chatty! Thank fuck I brought Ronnie along. Otherwise, we’d just be sitting here fucking staring at each other while my dad would try to awkwardly fill the silence.
“So, I hear Greyson’s birthday is coming up?” Felicity asks, finally directing a comment at me.
I sit up straighter in my seat and give her a curt nod. “He’ll be one in January.” My voice is so gruff and raw I almost cringe hearing it.
Felicity gives me a small smile and leans forward in her seat. “He seems like a wonderful baby. You’ve done a great job with him, Trevor.”
Her warm smile makes me feel uneasy. My chest begins to tighten. I don’t want to begin to describe the feelings that flood my body, overwhelming my senses. Her words make me… happy. Happy and fucking confused at the same time. Hearing her praise makes me feel connected to her in some way—even though I don’t really know her at all.
“Thanks. Grey’s really easy to take care of,” I awkwardly explain.
She looks at Greyson, who’s resting on my shoulder, and tells me, “Well, it seems like you make a great father, Trevor.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat and utter an awkward, “Thank you.” I’m not used to being complimented like this. I wish I could say the same to her, but I don’t know what she’s like as a parent or even as a person, for that matter. Well, if you consider the whole “abandonment thing,” it doesn’t suggest that she’s a great one. She must sense my unease because she gives me a sad but understanding smile before turning her attention back to my dad.
It feels shit
ty to be unable to express what I’m feeling, but what can I really say? I don’t want to start a delicate conversation over our meal. At least not with my girl and son here to witness it. Maybe I can try getting to know her as a person before moving on to getting to know her as my mother. Would that possibly make things easier? At this point, I doubt anything would. I need to have a conversation about the circumstances surrounding why she left me. Did she leave me right away, or did she have me for a while before handing me over to my dad? She mentioned at the store where I first ran into her that she used to read to her son. So, I must’ve stayed with her for a little while, right? Something must’ve happened to separate us. I couldn’t imagine anything that would separate me from Grey. Nothing could ever cause me to leave him. If I was faced with something horrible—I’d still fight for him every fucking day. So, why hadn’t Felicity fought for me?
The question weighs on my mind as my dad eases our conversation to another safe topic. He spends the rest of our meal trying his best to engage me. I can’t blame the man for trying, but I’m not feeling very receptive at the moment. Felicity smiles at me from time to time, me feel guilty for not trying harder to reach out to her right now. If I did open my mouth, though, I doubt she’d like what I had to say. I want the truth, not some sugar-coated version of the story I’m sure they’d whip up just to placate me. They have been lying to me my entire life. I know what I have to do and who I’ll have to talk to if I want to get the true, but most likely, unappealing story. Evelyn wouldn’t care enough about me to spare my feelings. I haven’t talked to her since her divorce from my dad. All of our issues were left completely unresolved. I know if I want to move forward, I’ll have to deal with every aspect of my past. Including resolving the issues between me and the woman I used to think of as my mother. God, just thinking about that last part fucking irks me.
I keep my mouth shut for the remainder of our meal. When Dad pays the bill, I’m thrilled that this torturous fucking meeting is over. I have so much on my mind, and now that I know what I want to do, I want to contact Evelyn as soon as possible. She was part of all this and I need to hear her side of the story.
As we exit the restaurant and head out to our cars, Felicity walks along beside me. I can tell that she’s dying to talk to me, but something causes her to remain silent. Maybe she and I are more alike that I’d originally thought. We both want to bottle up our feelings and pretend they don’t exist.
“I would really love to get a chance to see you again, Trevor,” she casually states, although, her words sound loaded as they escape her mouth.
I hesitate for a moment before finally agreeing. “That’d be cool. I’m free pretty much every weekend, so, just let me know when it’s a good time for you.” God, why do I sound so insecure whenever I talk to her?
“This weekend sounds good,” she replies with a small smile. “We can grab something to eat and talk. Just you and me.” She stops speaking and observes me, as if taking in my appearance for the very first time.
“What?” I prompt, feeling unsure of myself all of a sudden.
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head with a wistful look in her eye. “It’s just the last time I really got a good look at you, you were just a little baby. I’ve been imagining what your face would look like for so long… Which makes seeing you for the first time really surreal.”
I give her an uncomfortable nod and slide my hands into my pockets, leaning back against my truck as Ronnie gets Grey strapped into his car seat on the opposite side. “Well, everyone grows up, you know? Do I look the way you imagined I would?” I just have to ask.
I expected her to say no. I doubt she pictured her little baby growing up to be the man I am now. So, I’m shocked when she her nods her head with a teary-eyed grin.
“You look exactly like I imagined you would.”
I don’t know if it’s the tone of her voice or her comforting words, but my entire body relaxes against my truck. I always thought people liked me despite my harsh appearance. However, Felicity seems as though she’d like me no matter what I looked like. She’s so fucking different than the motherly figure I’ve grown accustomed to over the years. That’s the reason why I’m at a complete loss for words and don’t know how to respond.
“Am I what you imagined?” she goes on to quietly ask.
I think for a moment because I’ve never had the chance to imagine anything as a child because Evelyn was all that I knew. Finally, I answer her with the only response that I can give.
“You’re what I pictured, Felicity,” I say because she seems like what a mother ought to be.
She smiles at me and I smile back at her. The world seems to come to a halt as I experience my first “moment” with my real mom.
“Before you go, I’ve got something to give to you,” she tells me as she fishes through her purse.
She smiles as she finds whatever she was looking for before pulling her hand out of her bag, producing a photograph. She hands it to me then she takes a step back, giving me one last smile.
“I wanted you to have this. It’s one of our first moments together. I’d stare at that photo every day, but now I want it to belong to you.”
She smiles, hesitating for a moment, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to embrace me. She decides on just giving me an awkward, but hopeful “goodbye” before taking my dad’s hand. I watch them as they walk back toward his car.
When they leave I look down at the photograph, and just as soon as I do I feel fucking lost. My eyes fill with tears and my heart constricts in my chest until it becomes fucking unbearable. It’s a picture of Felicity and me. She’s sitting in a rocking chair—by a large picture window—with me in her arms. I’m so little. I barely recognize myself. I trace her beautiful face with my index finger, just staring at the small photograph until it becomes wet with a few of my tears. She looks so young here and so fucking happy. Yet, there’s something about her eyes that doesn’t sit right with me. There’s this melancholy look in their depths, which makes me feel sad for her. I’m smiling in the photo. My little head is nestled against her chest. As I stare at the picture, I think, this is what love looks like. Is this how I look when I’m holding Grey in my arms? I’m quietly fucking sobbing with the photo clenched between my shaking fingers. Ronnie notices the state I’m in and slowly approaches me.
“Trevor? Baby, what is it?” she asks, her voice soothing.
I hand her the photograph and cup my face within my hands, trying to gain control over myself. I don’t know why I’m crying like this. It’s like the floodgates have fucking opened and all of my emotions finally have the chance to come pouring out. I feel embarrassed, while at the same time, I feel fucking relieved. I needed a good cry. I needed to feel something other than this fucking numbness.
“This is so beautiful, Trev,” she muses as she observes the photograph. “You were such a cute little baby.”
Her comment causes me to smile. Soon after my crying starts to subside, and I wrap my arm around my girl’s shoulders and bring her up against my side. I inhale her scent and immerse myself in its calming effects.
“We should get a nice frame for this,” she suggests as she gently dabs my tears off the picture with her sleeve.
I nod, welcoming the sound of that suggestion. Ronnie helps me into the passenger seat of my truck because after today, I’m fucking useless. I study the photo as she drives us home. Looking from my mom’s face to mine, I wonder what caused our separation. She looks like she loved me in this picture. Loving expressions like that can’t be faked. What on Earth could have happened to make her give me up? I hold onto the photo as I rest my eyes, imagining what the first few months of my life spent with her were like before slowly drifting to sleep.
chapter 37
landslide
Evelyn is just as I remembered her. I’m not sure why I thought she’d be any different. I suppose that after my dad’s revelation—I imagined coming across a different woman completely. Someo
ne who was misunderstood in my eyes… until now. However, she’s the same—except for her face: which looks a tad tighter and more lifted than the last time I saw her, causing her to look not only expressionless, but emotionless, as well. I suppose the divorce settlement has afforded her more trips to the plastic surgeon.
I want to be fucking snide with her because of everything she’s done, but seeing the woman before me now, I can’t bring myself to do it. She has nothing left—whether she wants to admit it to herself or not. No amount of alcohol, trips to her cosmetic surgeon, or late nights with her girlfriends is going to make her feel whole again. She loved my dad; even with her cold heart, she loved him. My dad has left her and her only son has died. Sure, she has a shallow group of friends, but they all have lives and families of their own. Despite Evelyn appearing to be calm and put together on the outside, her entire fucking world has imploded. How can I treat her like shit after all that? I can sympathize with her. I’m not some asshole without empathy. We both lost Dean. We’ve both experienced heartbreak.
“Evelyn,” I politely greet her before taking a seat in a leather chair across from her.
This is the first time I’ve called her by her name and not by the title “mom.” Of course, I’ve referred to her by “Evelyn” in my head when I was angry with her, but I’ve never said it aloud. She doesn’t seem disturbed by this in the slightest. She takes a long drink of her Pinot Grigio, despite the fact that’s it’s just after twelve o’clock in the afternoon, before addressing me.
“So, you want to hear all about your father’s little girlfriend.” It’s not a question. She stares at me coldly as she swirls the contents of her glass around before taking another sip.
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