Page 69 of SnowBound

Confusion washed over her face before she caught up with what I was saying. “Language, Anderson. And can you be a grown-up for a few minutes? Hear me out and then you can decide whether you like the idea or not.” She blew out a breath as if I was being difficult. “Sit.”

“We can have this conversation while we’re standing. I’m not sitting down and pretending everything is fine when it’s not. Anyway, I’m not sure I trust you—or your judgment—right now. You’re lucky I’m even listening to you.”

“Talk to me with respect.”

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations, you’re about to reach out to the man whose only great achievement in his life had been to empty his testicles inside you.”

Her palm hit my cheek before I could react.

I rubbed the throbbing flesh with my hand, trying to diffuse the sting.

“Sorry,” I said, hanging my head low. “I went too far.”

“Yeah, you did.” Her tone left no room for arguments. “Now you’ll drink that tea with me and hear what I gotta tell you.”

We sat down, and I pushed my chair to the left, adding distance between us. My mother’s hands hid under the table, and her shoulders sagged forward before she inhaled and straightened her posture and stared at me with more conviction than I’d seen so far tonight.

“Quick questions,” I said, “before we begin. Did you actually talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“Did he remember you? After all these years?”

“Hmmm… We had dinner together the other day.”

“What? This is a joke. Tell me you’re messing with me right now. How can you still talk to him? After everything? After he abandoned you? After he abandoned us?” I shut my lids and breathed in and out, trying to quiet the tsunami rising in the depths of me. My mother didn’t deserve my wrath. But she also did. She met with my father and never told me. I thought honesty was our thing. I guess I was wrong the entire time. And this, it was a hard pill to swallow. She was supposed to be on my side. She always told me it was us against the world when I was little and had asked why I didn’t have a daddy like all my friends did.

Yeah, well, now the joke was on me.

“Anderson. Your father and I talk from time to time.”

“He’s not a stranger like you always pretended? What do you mean you two talk? Why did he never talk to me?” With my elbows propped up on the table, I raked a hand through my hair. “Did he ever ask about me?”

“All the time.” Her voice broke as the truth flashed in her eyes. Neon lights telling me all along I’d been the fool.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me then? Why wasn’t he around all my life? What was so defective about me that he refused to have a relationship with me?”

“I kept him away. It’s all on me. Not him.”

Chills traversed my back. I had heard enough. My heart lurched in my throat. Nothing added up. This was a nightmare. Nothing else could explain the conversation we were having

My words were clipped when I asked, “Why? Why now?”

“Because. Like I said, I recognize how talented you are. Anderson, you possess a rare gift. I know it because your father has the same one…” Her voice shook. “And I thought he could help you reach for your dreams. I wanna send him your videos. If you agree. I want him to hear you play, and since you’re in town only for a short time, he could come and meet you. He’s not the villain in the story I always portrayed him to be. He just wants to be part of your life.”

I blinked in confusion. “Nothing you say makes sense. He wants to be part of my life? First, you’re having dinner with him and now this? Are you screwing with me? He had nineteen years to show up on our doorstep and make up for his lack of parental presence, and he chose now? What a joke. I’m so over it.”

She extended her arm to touch mine, but I jerked away. “Anderson, you don’t know the entire story.”

Sobs shook her body. I’d never seen my mother so broken before.

It took all my will to not pull her into my arms and promise her we’d be fine.

“Your father has always wanted to be part of your life. I’m sorry…for everything.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she looked at me as if to ask for my forgiveness.

I turned my head, meeting her teary eyes. A slice of my heart cracked. I hated witnessing the sadness in her features. Seeing my mother heartbroken was a hard sight. One I wasn’t used to. Keeping quiet, I waited for her to explain herself because if I spoke, no doubt I would explode and say things I would regret later. My hands clenched and unclenched over the table.

My words were harsh when I asked, “Why? He never showed up. Not even for the Holidays or my birthdays. Not for any show I gave. He wasn’t there when I lost my first tooth or graduated high school. And he wasn’t there when I needed him growing up. Not a single time. When I yearned for a daddy. A man to teach me some stuff mothers can’t. So don’t make excuses for him. I was there. Every single time.”