Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
My dad made an inarticulate sound and turned his back to us, breathing heavily.
“Lily was across the yard,” my mom said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t get to her, either.”
“I know.”
We were quiet for a few moments, the room thrumming with emotion.
“Your grandparents took care of Lily,” my dad said, breaking the silence. He turned to face us. “I used to feel guilty about that, too. Couldn’t get to them. Couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t do a damn thing fast enough for it to matter.”
“Cody,” my mom breathed.
“Then I realized somethin.’ Feelin’ guilt, like I shoulda been the one to protect them, was disrespectful to the sacrifice that Gram and Slider and Vera made. ’Cause that’s exactly what it was. A sacrifice.”
I nodded, my nose beginning to sting.
“You saved your cousin,” he said, holding my gaze. “You were in exactly the right place and you saved exactly the right person. Your uncle and aunt woulda lost two children that day if you hadn’t done what you did.”
“I didn’t see it that way,” I said, blinking back tears and spreading my hands out, palms up. “All I could see was Lily, struggling to make her way around the house, bumping into things and crying.”
“That’s all we saw, too,” my mom said, her eyes welling up. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay,” I replied hoarsely. It was odd, but that simple acknowledgement and apology seemed to soothe the resentment that I’d carried around silently for years. “None of us knew how to handle it.”
“We were the parents,” my dad said. “We shoulda done better.”
I shrugged. “You did the best you could.”
I’d begun to understand just how easy it would be to get the parenting thing wrong sometimes—especially when things got overwhelming. Olive didn’t do anything but eat, sleep and poop, and I was still pretty sure that I was messing things up.
“Is that why you left?” my mom asked, the question dropping like an anvil in the center of the room. “Did you hate us?”
The lie was on the tip of my tongue, but as I looked between my parents, I knew that lying wouldn’t be fair to any of us.
“Partly,” I replied, making her wince with regret. “But that wasn’t the only reason. I didn’t like myself,” I said honestly. “I didn’t like who I’d become, and I couldn’t seem to change anything when everyone here looked at me the same way no matter what I did.”
“We saw the way you struggled,” my dad said quietly. “We just had no clue how to help ya.”
“Moving away was one of the best decisions I ever made,” I replied, sending him a small smile. “I got to reinvent myself somewhere new, away from all the memories of the shooting and the aftermath and Mark.”
“If you were trying to get away from Woody, San Diego was a surprising choice,” my mom said, wiping her face as she huffed out a laugh.
“Yeah,” I looked down at my hands and deliberately relaxed them. “I guess part of me was always waiting for him to come back. Knowing that we were in the same city made that seem possible, even if we never saw each other.”
“C’mere,” my dad said, gesturing with his hands.
I stood and stepped forward, and his arms gently encircled me, holding me against his chest.
“I’m so proud of you, Bumblebee,” he said, whispering into my ear. “You know that? I’m so sorry for not bein’ who you needed me to be back then, but I can’t say I’m sorry about the woman you are now. You’re a fuckin’ force of nature, just like your mother.”
“Love you, too, Dad,” I replied, pressing my forehead against the cool leather of his cut as tears ran down my face. I’d waited longer than I cared to admit to hear him say he was proud of me and mean it. The surprising thing about it was that he’d said it like it had always been true.
“My turn,” my mom said, worming her way between us. As she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and bumped my dad out of the way with her hip, I laughed. “I guess we’re a family that hugs it out now. Like those fucking Hallmark movies that Callie watches.”
“You know you watch them with her,” I teased, relaxing against her.
“Lies,” she countered, giving me a gentle squeeze. “I fucked up with you,” she said with a sigh. “In most ways, you’ve always been our first. Cam came along fully formed, but you were different. You needed me in ways that he didn’t, and I think I might have lost sight of that. I’m sorry, baby. More sorry than you’ll ever know.”
“Hey, at least with Charlie you have it all figured out,” I joked, sniffling.
“Please,” my mom replied, leaning back to meet my gaze. “We were so tired by the time she got here that the child is practically feral.”