You Are Here (35 page)

“Okay, okay,” she whispered. Her palms flew up between us and her breaths grew shallow.

I could feel her longing to wrap her arms around me, make me real—or maybe that’s what I wanted to think. I felt too conflicted to decide one way or another. She shifted her weight from foot to foot with her palms pressed together in prayer position. Unable to still herself, she wove her fingers together and firmly rubbed her knuckles against the slope of her nose. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they shined with tears.

“I didn’t stand up for you, baby,” she said. “Not nearly enough. I know I can’t go back and change that and I’m so sorry. You’ll never understand how sorry.”

“Well, thanks,” I barked, rolling my eyes. “That is such a load off my—”

“I was afraid.” Her tone sharpened. “Harris was an old boyfriend. I hadn’t really gotten over him with the way things had ended, and when I saw him just before the wedding, I—”

“Are you seriously going to tell me about the affair?” My voice sounded embarrassingly prepubescent.

“Well, where would you suggest I start, Grey?” she snapped, her accent concentrating. Her posture slumped with defeat. “It’s not like I’ve had the opportunity to speak with you for fifteen years. I would never ask you to excuse my failure as a mother, but if my son was dead, I very clearly couldn’t make up for it, let alone apologize.”

I pushed back off my heels and paced in a tight circle on the grass. I rolled my head and heard the satisfying pops in my neck. A small part of me, deep down, longed to be able to shut everything out. Lucie had erased that ability. The disaffected killer touched by nothing was long gone.

Still tense, I stopped and stood in place with my back to my mother.

Her presence was incredibly unsettling. I was bitter, but at the same time guilty. I may have accepted how my life had gone to bring me here, but I knew it wasn’t fair to believe it was only about me.

My mother.

The boy who felt lost as a kid had done his damnedest to make it hell for her as a teenager.

“I hurt you, too,” I admitted, turning to face her again. She’d sat down at the picnic table, slumped over her folded hands. “I gave up on you when I left.”

She looked up at me, her brows knotting together. “I deserved it.”

“Momma,” I said, sighing gruffly.

She choked on a sob, her emotions becoming tangible and real as she broke. I went to the table and sat across from her, unable to close the distance completely. Staring at her hands, I held my own, frozen several inches from hers.

As she calmed to sniffles, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she croaked. “Don’t you apologize to me, honey. Do you
know
how long it’s been since I heard you call me ‘Momma’?”

Unintentionally, I blushed. “I remembered something from when I was little. The time I had chicken pox and … well, how much I needed you.”

She smiled sadly. “It was always funny to me,” she pulled her hands up to her face to lean her cheek against them, “how you took after me, some of my southernisms and a little bit of drawl while Drew lost any accent when we moved to New York.”

I nodded, not wanting to analyze why. Dad was originally from California, so he didn’t have any southern accent. It was as if he’d been resistant to it.

“Drew tried to imitate you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember? Right after you boys started school here? Drew noticed how a few of the older boys made fun of you for it, so he faked it. Horribly.” She looked wistful, her eyes glazing over as she stared at a corner of the yard.

“What? Why?”

“He didn’t want you to be picked on alone. Of course,” she laughed, lost in her own images, “you ended up suspended for punching the kid who made fun of
him
.”

I grinned. The kid I punched was Nash. “At least he didn’t punch me back.”

“Sugar bear,” she called for my attention, grabbing my hands. Her smile disappeared as her grip tightened.

I instinctively tried to pull back. With the exception of Lucie and Edie, and my close friends, uninvited physical contact still caught me off guard. It was one of those things I was still working on.

“I. Am. So sorry. I have no excuse for not being your momma when you really needed me. And for lying to you. I was afraid and I was so wrong. I loved Andy and wanted to marry him. Harris was not someone who was ready for fatherhood. I’d just made a mistake. I never lied to Andy about it, I just hoped …”

“That lying to
me
would be okay. I mean, I was just a mistake.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes locking on mine. “I could never regret having you, Greyson,” she said emphatically. “Never. No matter how Andy felt.”

I calmed, and my words were no longer venomous. “So, you sent
that
guy pictures and information about me, but I was always in the dark, wondering why ‘my father’ hated me so much.”

She sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly, along with tears. “I wish I had been stronger.”

I couldn’t look away. Every resentment and rejection I’d suppressed my entire life picked up and thrashed around my mind like the most violent of twisters. I leaned my forehead into my palm, trying to breathe slow and evenly.

Then my mother’s soft voice broke through my surfacing grief. “… when I left him.”

“What?”

“I’m getting a divorce.”

“But … I … why?” Growing up, I’d always wanted her to. She’d been undeservedly loyal to him, I never thought I’d see it happen.

“
Why
?” She stared at me, incredulous. “It wasn’t a decision I came about lightly. A lot of thought—and arguments—went into it. I finally stood up to him. He always blamed me, but took it out on everyone around him, especially you … and me. After you left, that didn’t change.

“And once Drew finally told me about you being alive, it all solidified. I was living as if
I
were dead, and that was hurting all of us, not just me. You boys are my joy, Sugar bear, and I thought I’d lost one of you because of my own cowardice.”

She lifted my hands to her lips and kissed them before she smiled.

“Please don’t be upset with Drew,” she begged. “It couldn’t have been easy for him when I would bring you up in conversation. I really did think about you every day. Truly, honey.
Every day
.”

“I’m not mad at him, Momma. It’s not his fault.” I shook my head. I’d never thought of the burden I’d put upon my brother.

She remained silent for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Grey. I can’t undo the past, but I’d like to start over somewhere if you’ll let me.”

I hated to admit it, but I knew what she meant. It was like looking at myself, asking Drew and Nash for forgiveness, to accept me as I was now.

“Baby?” Lucie’s quiet voice coupled with her gentle touch wrapped itself around me. She placed her chin on my shoulder and settled her arms around my upper torso. A hand rested on my heart. I began to calm. I took a deep breath and turned to kiss her.

“Momma, this is Lucie, my wife, my angel, my love.”

Gleefully, my mother reached across the table and grasped Lucie’s hand. “I have heard so much about you, sweet pea. Thank you for taking such good care of him. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

Lucie beamed. “It’s so nice to meet you, Claire,” she said. “I’ll have you know that he takes excellent care of me, too. Even if he won’t admit as much.”

She grabbed my face and kissed me again. “Excellent,” she reiterated.

“He was always a thoughtful child,” my mother said. “I never doubted he would treat a lady well.”

The screen door slid open, and Drew emerged from the house with a huge tray of grillables, followed by Charlotte’s parents, and Vivi’s brother Holden and his husband, Jeff. Charlotte was just behind them, a fussing Edie in her arms and a hyper Gibson at her heels. As soon as she saw Lucie and me, Edie started making those adorable anticipatory happy grunts. Charlotte laughed and handed her to me.

“Daddy’s girl,” she mumbled, offering me a wink.

I waved to Holden and Jeff as Lucie jumped up to hug them. Holden came to shake my hand, wishing me a happy Father’s Day.

“Hopefully for you two someday soon, yeah?” I offered. They were waiting on a decision from some potential surrogates.

“Fingers crossed!” he said. “Our number one choice should be getting back to us any day.”

Gibson ran up to him then and dragged him away to play monsters or something that included lots of growling. In my arms, Edie babbled happily, slapping playfully on my chest as Lucie sat back down next to us.

“This,” I said, turning Edie to face my mother, “is your granddaughter, Edie Vivianne Sawyer.”

My mother stared at me in awe before speaking. “Sawyer?”

I chewed on my lip. “Yeah, we’re all Sawyers now. It was the only name I felt comfortable with.”

She fought to stem her tears as she regarded me warmly. “It fits you better,” she declared, clipping the extra emotion away.

At that moment, Nash charged through the gate into the backyard in his typical I-own-this-joint style. “’Sup, kids?”

Vivi sauntered behind him, performing her normal eye roll with an uncharacteristically huge smile. “Hey,” she added. “Happy Father’s Day!”

I nodded. Drew, who was standing close by, kissed her cheek and slapped Nash on the back before putting a beer in his hand. Gibson ran up and punched Nash in the thigh.

“’Sup, Nash!” he yelled and ran away.

“Are you using that kid to get back at me, Andrea?” he asked Drew, jutting his chin toward the boy. “I think he bruised me.”

Drew smiled. “Clearly I taught him well.”

“Heyyy, Mrs. E!” Nash boomed. “For a second, I thought I was a teenager again. Then, I remembered we kids were all married and responsible.”

“Ish,” I cut in.

“Dick,” he retorted under his breath. “When’d you get in town, Claire?”

“Last night,” she said, smiling, her attention still captured by Edie. My mother reached across and held out her index fingers for Edie to grasp, which she did. I lifted her bottom so she sat on the tabletop, holding her sides steady.

“It was a … surprise.” My mother looked up at me, offering a grateful smile.

I smiled back, letting the little boy who’d missed her shine through just a little.

“Well, it’s good to see ya, lady,” he said, patting her back and leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I hope Tennessee’s treating ya good. You’re looking hot.”

“Nash, you’re more full o’ shit than a pig pen,” she replied, clearly amused. “Knoxville is lovely, but I think I’d like to move back to New York to be near my boys … and girls.”

She looked between the lot of us before wrenching a finger away from Edie to ruffle Drew’s mess of hair as he sat down next to her.

Nash looked at me and raised an eyebrow in question. He knew I’d had no contact with her since I’d been “back,” so I nodded to indicate I was okay. He took it at face value, stepping back and slinging an arm around Vivi.

“Okay, attention, attention! That means shut it!”

“Holy hell,” Vivi groaned. “As if you speak softly enough for anyone to ignore you.”

“Shush, woman, I’m making the announcement!”

“I think I’m deaf,” I muttered to Lucie, who snorted and put her hands over Edie’s ears in case Nash kept shouting.

“I’m pregnant!” Vivi jumped in, completely stealing Nash’s thunder—and clearly enjoying it.

Nash roared. “Oh, come on!”

“Just passed into the second trimester,” she continued, rubbing a circle on a barely protruding bump.

Charlotte and Lucie erupted in that high-pitched girlie-squeal that rendered mere mortal men paralyzed. Drew and I shared a look of pain as we rubbed our ears. Our wives jumped up and ran to hug her. Congratulations were said all around, handshakes and hugs delivered.

“I’m pretty sure it was my super sperm that sealed the deal. Clinics beg me to donate—I could be the father of nations.”

“Ew,” Lucie grunted, frowning in disgust.

“Seriously,” I agreed. We both cackled.

Vivi smacked Nash on the back of the head.

“Oh,” he continued, undeterred, “did we mention,
twins
?”

Everyone’s eyes grew wide and mouths dropped. Lucie and Charlotte returned to their squealing state as congratulations recirculated.

“Okay, now you’re just trying to show everyone up,” Drew said, bumping Nash with an elbow.

Charlotte hugged Drew’s side. “I really hope they look like Vivi,” she teased.

Nash’s eyes narrowed. “Give me a fucking break!” he shouted, possibly legitimately insulted. “I am
hot
.”

She reached out to slap him playfully across the face “Duuuude, certain young ears love to emulate their uncle Nash. So put a leash on the language, ’kay? Thanks.”

“Busted,” I singsonged. Lucie flicked my ear. “What?”

“Whose mouth was I threatening to wash out with soap earlier?” she asked.

“I knew it,” Nash cut in. “He’s a dirty talker, ain’t he?”

Everyone groaned.

Holden tossed a chewed-up dog toy at him. Nash gagged when he realized it was slimy, to boot. He threw it back at Holden.

“Nash,” I said, revulsion plain in my tone. “My mother is right there.”

Lucie cupped a hand at her mouth and stage-whispered in Nash’s direction, “Yes!”

I stared at her, mouth hanging open. She widened her eyes and played innocent. I heard snickers and chuckles all around us.

I shrugged and sighed, “Absolutely no love.”

“On the contrary,” she said, leaning into me and linking her arms around my waist, “You have so much love, baby. So much.”

I shook my head and kissed her, reveling in a moment of pure contentment.

When my mother timidly asked to hold Edie, I paused long enough to see the rejection set in. “Sure,” I said, finally. “I mean, of course.”

When I handed my daughter to her, my mom’s face lit up. She began to bounce her granddaughter on her lap and coo grandmotherly nonsense at her. Edie ate it up.

The afternoon became a constant lazy volley between contentment and tension for me, like aftershocks of stress. It was an understatement to say it was a memorable first Father’s Day for me.