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“I guess I can understand that,” I retort. “My bunica liked Visinata, which is like a sour cherry liquor. I was only a little kid, so she’d only give me the tiniest sips, but I eventually grew a taste for it.” It’s been ages since I’ve had any, and I find myself craving the sweet, tart liqueur—craving it as much as I’ve been craving something else.
“I assume you mean your grandmother, right? You can handle sour cherry alcohol, but not this?” Mae holds up her glass.
“Yeah, I don’t know. I guess it’s the bitterness of the citrus.”
“Hmm.” She doesn’t sound convinced.
“Mina! How’s the feeding going?” Grandpa Bob yells after coming outside. We both watch as he does his best to waddle down to the barn.
“You’re so lucky you still have him,” I say.
“Oh, I know.” Mae sits up and shakes her head. “I can’t even begin to process what life would be like without him. Even when my parents were still around, he was always there. He didn’t hesitate to take me, a bratty little kid, in.”
“I highly doubt you were a brat.” I can’t imagine Mae as anything but sweet and kind. The kind of woman who would offer a single father and his son a home-cooked meal after knowing them for a day. The kind of woman that would trust a man like me.
“Trust me. I was worse than that.” Mae laughs and shakes her head.
“Well, you were dealing with a horrific and traumatic situation. I don’t think anyone, especially a child, would handle that any differently,” I say. I was furious after Anna left, filled with rage. Not that I ever let Dylan see any of that anger. At least I hope not. But I was an adult then. I can only imagine what you had to go through, dealing with those losses as a child.
“I definitely put him through the wringer, I’ll tell you that much. I remember just screaming my head off at him. I used to tell him I wished he died instead of them. Can you believe that?”
I see a tear fall down her cheek. Without thinking, I raise my hand and wipe it away with my thumb.
“Honestly, yeah. I absolutely can.” I want to pull Mae toward me and wrap her in a comforting hug, but I know that would be overstepping. I can’t go any further with her until I tell her about the condos. Hopefully, she’ll be as understanding about that as she has been for everything else. It’s only business, after all. But I think about that kiss and how I handled it so poorly. She looked devastated at whatever stupid thing I said.
“Still, it was an awful, awful thing to say.” Mae shakes her head as if trying to shake away the bad memory, and I’m snapped back to the present.
“He knew you didn’t mean it.” I lean closer to Mae, trying to offer support through my presence alone.
“I hope so,” she says, her voice still a little wet with emotion. “It doesn’t seem like Grandpa Bob holds it against me.”
“I can’t imagine a world in which he would. I know Mina’s a sweet kid, but she’s still a teenager. I’m sure she’s let her hormones get the best of her and said hurtful things before. Dylan has.”
“Oh yes. That’s for sure.” A faint smile dances over Mae’s lips.
“Hit me with it,” I encourage her.
“One time when we were arguing, Mina said she wasn’t surprised that her father didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Ouch! I get that teenagers can be cruel sometimes, but that’s the biggest lie I’ve heard today, and I work in development.” Only the world’s dumbest man would fail to see how amazing Mae is. Which is what I assume Mae’s ex is.
“Yeah.” Mae laughs. “Talk about a low blow. So, what about Dylan?”
“Let’s see. He’s gone through a few phases where I seemed to be his arch-nemesis. Oh! Actually, he said something similar to Mina. He was screaming about how much he hated me, and he understood why Anna hated me too.” Thinking about it now still hurts. Even though I know Dylan was only saying it to get to me.
“Jeez. Our kids are brutal.”
“I think all kids are,” I say.
“It doesn’t help that we gave them that extra ammunition.” Mae finishes her glass and sets it next to her seat. Off in the distance, I can hear our two little monsters shriek with laughter.
“About our exes, you mean?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Mae responds, stealing my glass, sitting forgotten next to my chair, and taking a swig. I don’t comment on the act, but I notice the ease with which she does it, and my heart thuds in my chest with how comfortable we’ve gotten with each other. I don’t think I was ever this relaxed with Anna.
We sit in a peaceful quiet as we feel the wind on our faces and gaze out on our land.
“You know,” I say, “it’s kind of funny how similar our lives have been.”
