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“Well,” he said, holding her gaze, “you’re right. I’ve had three years of kicking around in South America to look at our failed marriage. If nothing else? I wanted to learn from it because I never wanted to repeat it.”
“Because you want to get married again?” Willow had to ask.
“No, not necessarily. I’m a construction bum, Willow. My life is a tumbleweed. I go where the construction is at. You can’t drag a wife and kids around like that.”
Shrugging, Willow said, “My dad was in the Air Force for twenty years. All I knew growing up was a new base in a new country every two to three years. It didn’t harm me. I think moving around made me a more globally minded person than I would have been. Because of the moves, I was in different cultures, belief systems, and a different language every time. I consider it time well spent and never minded those moves because, rock bottom, they were highly educational.”
“I never thought about it like that,” Shep agreed. “I always assumed a woman wanted to stay in one place to raise a family.”
Willow knew she was stepping into forbidden territory with Shep. He’d never discussed his family with her. Would he now? “I don’t like the patriarchy’s job description for women: barefoot, pregnant, and house fraus? Forget it. I liked that I had so many new adventures with each move. I always looked forward to them, and I did learn a lot, made new friends, and never thought it harmed me. Was that what happened to you? That you grew up in one place?” She held her breath for a moment, seeing a lot of emotions cloud his eyes. And then, those shades of feelings were gone, and he frowned, looked away for a moment, as if making an internal decision about something. Finally, he looked back at her.
“This is an area where you and I had a lot of fights.”
“That’s an understatement,” she droned in a bored tone, eyebrows raised sardonically, mopping up the last of the stew in her near-empty bowl with the last of the bread.
“Yeah, well, no excuses.” He pushed his bowl aside and took a drink of his iced tea. Setting it down, he said, “My dad, Al, owned a construction company. He was a civil engineer. He created a company, so we didn’t move around at all. I grew up with the Pacific Ocean and surfing was my thing.”
“How about your mom?” Willow saw pain come to his eyes, watched him wrestling with a rush of sudden feelings. She had a bad sense about his mother. What had happened?
“My mother,” he said, sitting back, his voice low. He fought himself and forced out, “My dad divorced her when I was thirteen.”
Willow could still see the injury from that time in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Shep.”
Shrugging, he said, “People get divorced all the time.”
She smarted beneath his statement but realized it wasn’t aimed at her. The faraway look in Shep’s eyes spoke of memories she was sure had deluged him through just this brief sharing moment. Wanting to tread gently, she asked, “So from thirteen on until you were eighteen it was you and your mom?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a good time, Willow. Damned painful for her.”
“And for you,” she said gently, holding his stormy gaze. His mouth was thinned, and she could feel him struggling with a lot of hidden emotions.
“I was collateral damage,” he groused. “My mother… Well, it devastated her. She really loved my dad. He had an affair, fell in love with a woman in his office, and then came home one day and announced he wanted a divorce from my mom.”
Wincing, she said, “That’s so shattering.” And she could see the effects the whole ordeal had had on him in his expression. Shep was trying to keep that game face of his in place, but it wasn’t working right now. Her heart went out to him, and she had to stop herself from reaching out and touching his hand on the table.
“Yeah, it was like a bomb going off in the house,” he admitted in a growling tone.
“How did your mom handle it?”
“Not well.”
“What do you mean?” Willow wanted to understand how the divorce had affected Shep as a child. She saw him hesitate, his hand curling into a fist for moment and then relaxing.
“I knew this would happen,” he muttered, staring at her darkly.
“What?”
“For two and a half years you asked about my family and I refused to discuss them with you, Willow. And I knew, coming back here, we’d get into some kind of discussion about them sooner or later.”
Sitting back, she felt him resisting her again. Always! “Well, I’m not apologizing for it, Shep. It’s normal and natural to talk about one’s family. I know how you feel about that, but if you really want to communicate with me, this is an area where it will happen.”
He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “I’ve said enough, Willow. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. At least, not right now. All right?” and he leveled a warning stare at her.
“Fine. But I do appreciate you opening up about it.” And she did. “I can see you’re trying, and that means a lot to me, Shep.”
His mouth thinned and hitched. “Yeah, well, whatever…”
Withholding a smile, Willow didn’t cross her arms, as she might have in the past at the word ‘whatever’, but kept her hands resting on the table, instead. Clearly, Shep was in pain and he was uncomfortable as hell. There was much more to this story, but she wasn’t going to press for more right now.
