Page 39 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

“You said to me, ‘It’s okay, Mommy. I’ll be your hands since yours don’t work anymore.

’ You made me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day until I got better.

I was so sick of eating them, but I didn’t have the heart to say no to you.

You have always been charming since the minute you could talk. ”

It’s a brutal game of tug of war within my chest, pulling me one way toward forgiveness and the other toward resentment. I’m stuck in the middle, the rope pulled too tight on both ends. There’s no clear ruling on which side will win.

“What’s your point? So what? Just because I was a good son to you, I’m not allowed to be angry?”

“That’s not what I said, Logan.”

“Then what exactly is your angle here? You sit here, forcing me to walk down memory lane with you—telling me you never had the heart to say no to me. What I don’t get is why you’re here playing house with my girlfriend’s sister and her kid!

” My voice thickens with emotion, lodged deep in my throat. It makes me sick.

The sudden urge to throw my fists into something holds my mind hostage. It’s an unwelcome type of rage, one I usually choose to keep locked away and buried. It angers me more that it’s her who unlocks the ugliest parts of me, exposing them and shoving it in my face against my will.

Tia’s hold on my hand tightens, and for a split second, I rein myself in for her sake. Nora buries her face in her hands, clearly suffering from this awkward-as-fuck conversation. But it has to happen, like a car crash you can’t look away from.

“I told you I’d explain, and you agreed.

Don’t act like I put a gun to your head and forced you to be here.

Like I said, anger doesn’t suit you, but hell, Logan, if you need to take it out on someone, go ahead.

I deserve it.” Her steely gaze mists, and I search her eyes with desperation, hoping to find remorse in them.

Silence stretches between us, and I can see Mom itching to light another cigarette.

We stare each other down, taking in the details of each other’s faces from years of separation.

The bags under her eyes are a little deeper.

Her lips are thinner—probably from the smoking.

Her skin is tan, but not fake like from a tanning bed.

It’s more bronze, and I wonder if she still likes to garden, spending hours beneath the sun planting all kinds of flowers.

Nora gives a pained look at my mom, with furrowed brows and a wobble in her chin.

“Hannah, let me,” Nora interjects, shifting her watery gaze toward me and Tia.

“Logan, I swear I didn’t know she was your mom. If I had known, I wouldn’t have … I …” Nora stutters on her words, slowly unraveling as our fucked up realities twist and intertwine into each other.

“I was at a women’s health center in Holly Hill.

I’d just found out I was pregnant. I couldn’t stop crying in the waiting room, and that’s when Hannah approached me.

She had a plan to move to Las Vegas, and I already knew I didn’t want to stay in Oakwood Valley.

” Nora sniffles, wiping under her eyes while chewing on her bottom lip.

She’s nervous, opening and closing her mouth when words fail her. Tia leans forward, untwining our hands and resting her elbows on her thighs as she intently stares at her sister.

“So you just trusted a woman you’ve never met, putting your life and your unborn child’s life in her hands? And for some reason you thought that was a better idea than to lean on your family? To lean on me?” Tia asks.

“It’s complicated, Tia,” Nora retorts with a sharp edge to her tone.

“You know what? I think I have to disagree. I think it’s actually really fucking simple.” Tia’s words slice through the thick air, cutting Nora deep, causing her to wince at the gravity of them.

“I couldn’t go back, Tia. I refuse to regret the choices I’ve made.

We can’t change the past. I love Cali with everything I have.

Hannah provided me an out, and I took it.

Even if it wasn’t the smartest decision, I knew what I was doing.

There was no going back. The last twelve years have been really fucking hard, but I.

Don’t. Regret them. So be mad at me all you want, but this woman saved my life. ”

I lean back in my chair, squinting up at the sun that blinds me.

When I blink, dark spots fill my vision.

I almost wish they could block out my mother’s face forever.

I feel the weight of her gaze searing into me, but the walls feel like they’re closing in on me and the unexpected anger I feel toward Tia’s sister causes them to close in faster.

When my vision evens out, I give my mother a pointed look, and all I get back from her is a slight shake of her head. As if we’re the ones in the wrong. As if we’re the ones who don’t get it.

“I was there for an appointment myself when I saw her. She was such a skinny little thing, shaking like a leaf in her seat. I couldn’t help myself.

I had already served your father divorce papers.

As soon as the ink was dry, I had to get out of Oakwood Valley.

I was leaving for Vegas, and I told Nora I’d take care of her.

You have to understand, baby, I was suffocating.

I couldn’t spend another minute in that town,” my mom says, a tremble in her voice as she recalls the memory.

Nora looks at my mom with fondness, and it’s obviously reciprocated.

A sharp pang of jealousy hits me right in the chest. I feel my breath quickening and my muscles coiling tight, balling my fists to keep this ugly feeling from rearing its ugly head.

“But why, Mom? Because Dad worked too much? Because he didn’t give you enough attention?

He provided for you. For us! And how did you thank him?

By sleeping around and cheating on him! And don’t even try to lie your way out of that one because I saw you!

How do you expect me to understand or even empathize with what you were going through when it was you who ruined us? ” I seethe.

I run my fingers frantically through my hair, gripping hard at the roots to ease the pounding in my skull.

My mom looks at me, eyes glossy with something that looks like regret—maybe even guilt.

But it’s too little, too late. The softness in her gaze only serves to piss me off.

Like that’s gonna fix anything. Sympathy won’t undo the damage; if anything, it just reminds me how numb I’ve become. How numb she made me.

“Yes, Logan. All of it, okay? He did work too much. I was lonely. I was attention starved. God forbid I get reprimanded for wanting my husband to pay me any mind!”

“But what about me?!” I cry out, not giving a shit if the neighbors can hear me. “What about me, Mom? I still needed you. Me. Your son. And not only did you choose to leave, you chose another child over me. ”

There it is.

My voice trembles and cracks, and I can feel the buildup of tears forming behind my eyes.

The confession shocks me, spewing out of me like word vomit, but it’s the truth.

There’s jealousy laced in the resentment I hold for my mother.

She offered Nora sanctuary, when I was her own flesh and blood, waiting by the door for her to come home.

“That is not true, baby,” she sobs. “Me leaving had nothing to do with you. I didn’t choose another child over you. I’m so sor?—”

“But you did! You chose Nora over me the minute you sat next to her in that clinic. You ran away, just like she did. You know what,” I scoff, “you two deserve each other. If only you knew how fucked up Tia’s family is because you got into Nora’s head and convinced her that running away was better than facing her family.

Her family, who, by the way, would’ve loved and supported Cali.

” I spew the last part toward Nora, intending for every word to hit her where it hurts.

That’s for Tia.

“I can deal with you leaving, Mom. I’ll carry the burden forever if I have to. But the part you played in Nora’s life? Good intentions or not, you are complicit in the damage you’ve caused to the most important woman in my life. And for that, I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

Everyone’s crying, including me.

It’s a pathetic mess, really. A pathetic mess of crying that makes me want to crawl out of my skin. The buildup of pressure behind my eyes is too much to bear; this dam holding back my pent-up emotions is about to give.

I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I’m questioning everything about myself, all because my absent mother insists I’m not an angry person. It’s fucking me up, crossing my wires and electrocuting my insides. I hate that she’s done this to me.

Between the four of us, we’ve reached a stalemate.

No one wins.

I swipe at my wet cheeks, standing from my chair as I hold out my hand to Tia. Her eyes shine with tears, but she takes my hand without hesitation, and I pull her into my chest, burying my face in her hair.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, baby. I have nothing else to say,” I murmur, feeling her nod against me.

When our eyes meet, she squeezes me tighter around my waist, planting a tearful kiss on my lips.

I just want to get her out of this shit show before it causes her any more pain.

Just seeing her cry fucking kills me, and I only want to make her forget.

As I’m leading Tia out, she stops us in our tracks, signaling me to wait for a second. Tia turns around, standing before her sister.

“Mom is dying, and no matter how much time has passed, I know she wants her daughter back. I know you’ve made a life here,” Tia looks at my mom, then back to Nora, “but please consider coming back. If not for me, then for Mom. Before she completely forgets who any of us are. I don’t want you to regret it, and I think Cali deserves to know her grandma. ”

Nora doesn’t respond, pulling her gaze away from Tia as more tears track down her face. It’s not the answer Tia was hoping for, and the loss on her face is like a knife straight to my gut. She makes her way back to me, and I do my best to kiss away her heartbreak.

Our hands join, and I take one last look at my mother, her face etched with utter defeat.

After over a decade of no communication, I finally got it all off my chest. Every imaginary conversation I had with her in my mind—after all this time, I said them to her face.

The fucking nightmares, the hole in my heart that she permanently left behind.

You’d think I’d find peace. Relief. Resolve.

The only thing I’ve found as I leave a trail of blood from the open wound that is my mother—is more anger.

“Anger doesn’t suit you, baby.”

Well, too fucking bad.