“Jesus. I was in fucking high school, Will. That not old enough for you? What about you?” I looked at Price.
“Come on, man,” he said.
“Hell no. Answer the question.”
“Same time Will learned,” he muttered, darting his eyes away.
I looked up at the ceiling. “Unbelievable. Really unbelievable.”
No one spoke. The silence stretched until I looked back at the three of them. “So to be clear, it’s been over fifteen years. And you never thought I should know?”
“You never wanted to talk about her,” Price said.
My blood boiled. “Oh, hell no. You can’t use that as an excuse. I would have wanted to hear this, for fuck’s sake. I’m not a little kid anymore—I haven’t been for a long-ass time. And you,” I said, locking eyes with Mom, “you never thought I deserved to know? Do you even remember telling me you didn’t owe me an explanation? Why was I so unworthy?”
“That’s not what it was,” she said.
“Then what the fuck was it?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice down. “Because from where I’m sitting, I don’t see any reason I shouldn’t tell all three of you to go fuck yourselves.”
“Watch it, Aaron,” Will said, his eyes flashing.
I scoffed. “Or what, Will?”
Price held his hands between us. “Come on, guys.”
“It’s my fault.” Mom spoke up. When I turned to her, still seething, she said, “I asked them not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were the youngest. You were supposed to stay innocent. Supposed to, I don’t know, not have to deal with any of it.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Her eyes reddened, but to her credit, the tears didn’t come. She lifted a hand and let it fall. “Somehow I thought…that it was better for you to be mad at me instead of disappointed. The way you looked at me, Aaron—like you could see everything. I couldn’t bear your knowing.” She took a deep breath, clenching her hands on the table. “I see now that I made a mistake by not telling you, and by asking your brothers not to tell you.”
What was I supposed to say to that? “Yeah, you did.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Will growled. He hunched over the table and whisper-shouted. “Get your head out of your ass, Aaron. She’s got a disease. Two of them, actually, and she’s spent the last two years working her ass off to get sober and stay that way, to finally come home and sit here and tell you what’s been happening.”
“And when she canceled on us again?” I asked, still not quite ready to give in.
“I was helping a friend through a relapse,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to say what it was, because you’d want more explanations and I needed to tell you to your face.” Her face was open and honest. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I’ve made so many mistakes. But I love you. I have always loved you. I wanted to tell you everything. And I know I have so much to make up for.”
Fuck. I sagged in my chair, all the fight finally out of me. Between this and the ache in my heart that began and ended with Devon, I didn’t have the energy for it. I met her eyes. “You’re right. You do.”
She smiled tentatively and reached for my hands.
I pulled away. “We aren’t fixed. But having you here, telling me all this. It’s a start.”
Jodi caught my eye as we left a while later, headed to Will’s place for dinner. I managed a smile, and she waved me over.
“Hey,” she said, a worried look on her face. “You okay?”
I lifted my shoulders. “Yeah. No. Maybe?” I took a beat. “I’ll get there.”
“I bet. Listen, um.” She scrubbed the clean counter with an equally clean cloth. “Have you talked to Devon? Since…?”
I looked away. “No.” I wanted to. God, I wanted to. I spent every night wanting her in my bed. Every morning wishing I could see her face, the way her eyes glittered when she smiled.
Jodi’s face fell. “Oh. I thought maybe…well. Never mind.”
I studied her. “Maybe what?”
She waved it away. “Nothing. Go. Be with your family. See you later?”
I turned into Will’s driveway and sat, the engine idling. Chief’s words came back to me. You’re the best of us. Your mom leaving? Not your fault. So he knew. Of course he knew.
I wanted to talk to Devon, to tell her everything that’d happened and work through what I was feeling with her. Even though she was gone. Even though she’d probably run screaming at the hint of a deep conversation. I couldn’t help it. I missed her so much that my chest physically hurt. It hadn’t stopped hurting since I left her house that night.
I didn’t know where she’d gone. She hadn’t posted anything to her social media, because I’d looked more times than I cared to admit. The last photos were of the two of us, on her porch and up on the mountain.
Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the wheel. I had an explanation for my mom leaving and staying gone, and that should have made me happy. Or at least marginally better. But all I felt was a sadness so deep it was a pit that would never be filled.
31
DEVON NO MORE COUNTING DOWN. I'M STAYING.
