“He’s right, son.” Anna spoke up louder. “It took a while for me to realize that, but I finally did.”
“You never gave him a chance!”
“I stopped giving him chances when he…”
“He what, Mom?”
“I did what I thought was best for you.”
“What did he do, Mom?” Logan’s somber tone implied he didn’t really want to know the answer but asked anyway.
“Son, please—”
“Tell me.”
“He…wouldn’t admit to being your father, even though he knew he was.” She paused, then continued in a sinking tone. “He wanted me to get an abortion, but I refused.” She stood up straight. “You are the light of my life.” She took a step toward him and stopped. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Thought I was protecting you from getting hurt.”
Logan stood so quickly, the chair toppled behind him. “I need some air.”
Before anyone could react, he was out the back door.
Tick-tock.
Drip-drip.
A suffocating silence filled the room as Sky processed the sequence of events and wondered what on earth would transpire next.
Anna finally broke the protracted quiet. “I’ll get my things and get out of your hair,” she said softly. “The hotel should have a room available soon.”
“Wait,” said Sky. “Maybe—maybe you should stay here.”
Anna opened her mouth, but Sky interrupted. “I’ll be gone till two-thirty or so. You can have some time to yourself.” She glanced at the back door. “And you’ll be close if y’all need to talk or something.”
“I’ve already imposed on your hospitality enough.”
“It’s no imposition since I won’t be here.” She looked at the clock. “Speaking of which, I need to get to work. Ruby wanted me in by ten, and I still have to get dressed.”
Anna nodded and left the kitchen.
Sky remained behind Max, arms draped over his shoulders. She wanted to comfort him, say something to ease his pain, but words failed her. She bent down and kissed the top of his head.
He pulled her around until she sat in his lap, her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her chest as he pulled her tightly against him. “I can still remember that day,” he said at last, his voice muffled against her shirt. “I kept thinking she’s just late again. She’ll be here soon.”
Sadness tore at her heart as he continued.
“The cops came with social services.”
Sorrow closed her throat when he pulled back and looked at her. Had he worn a neon sign, it could not be more clearly discerned. Pain, loneliness, loss, rejection.
“I found out later she’d made the call herself and told them where to find me.”
She waited.
“Never heard from either of them again.”
“What about her parents? His parents?”
His half-hearted shrug broke her heart.
“Don’t remember them. Not even their names.” He inhaled, rested his head on her chest again. “They gave me up, and that was the end of it.”
She pulled him closer. No wonder he’s so loyal to his friends. He suffered the ultimate rejection.
“My last foster home, the one that brought me here, was the best I guess, though I was such an ass by then I didn’t realize it.” One hand made small circles on her thigh. “Guess that’s why I ended up back here. Only place I ever stayed more than a few months.” He sighed. “I sent them a card maybe five years ago. Wasn’t sure what to say except thank you and I’m sorry. No idea if they got it or not.”
“Are they still around?”
“…He died two years ago. Heart attack. She moved away. Houston, I think.” He expelled a noisy breath. “Told you I was messed up.”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
“You are.”
She scoffed and shifted on his lap. “You’re biased.”
He pulled back to look at her. “You’re perfect to me…for me.”
She smiled. “And you’re perfect for me.”
