A Mother's Homecoming(17)
Morgan shook her head slowly, also keeping her gaze forward. When she spoke again, her lips barely moved. The two girls could totally do their own ventriloquism act on one of those talent search shows. “No. About you.”
What? Faith abandoned their eyes-front subterfuge, whipping her head in Morgan’s direction. What did her friend know? Did it have to do with the strange murmurings in the cafeteria today when Faith passed, the way that hag Arianne had snickered this morning?
“After class,” Faith whispered, hardly caring anymore if they were caught. “My house.”
NICK CAME HOME EARLY for two reasons. The first was, he’d been thinking about his daughter all day and wanted to be there for her—even though he doubted she’d welcome his presence. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d grounded her, which meant he was destined to be persona non grata for a few sulky days.
The other reason he came home was much simpler. He oversaw a construction crew. And men who were distracted shouldn’t be around power tools and huge pieces of motorized equipment.
“Faith?” He walked through the back door, entering the kitchen and calling out her name. Based on the past few times they’d clashed, she would be holed up in her room, blasting some sort of music guaranteed to annoy anyone over the age of twenty-five, pretending not to hear him.
So it came as a surprise when she met him at the edge of the kitchen tile, hands on her slim hips, glaring at him through exceedingly red eyes. The eyes combined with her sniffling made it clear she’d just finished a crying jag.
“Faith? What is it, honey?” Stupid question, when he already knew the answer. The coincidence was too great. But on the one-percent chance that this wasn’t about Pamela Jo Wilson, he held his breath and waited for his daughter’s reply.
“Is it true? Is my mom in town?”
Nick sucked in a breath, wondering for the millionth time when this parenting gig was going to get easier. That entire first year, when Faith had been so tiny and fragile, he’d been scared witless. He’d told himself that when she was bigger, stronger, it wouldn’t be so excruciating. But then there’d come the day when he’d had to put her on the bus to kindergarten, and it had been like taking shrapnel in the chest. Which had been nothing compared to the first time she told him she liked a boy. And now …
“It’s true.”
She deflated, arms dropping, shoulders hunching. “I was hoping you didn’t know. I thought, no way would he keep something like this from me. I found out from Morgan, Dad. You don’t even like Morgan! Half the school knew before me. Or figured, anyway. Someone’s mom knew that you and this chick used to be a thing, so people were wondering … Do you know how squicked I was to hear that people were talking about my parents’ sex—”
“Please stop.” Nick flinched, hoping he’d never hear his daughter use the word sex again. While he wasn’t sure what the exact definition of squick was, he felt confident that he was right there with her. “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t known long, either. And it’s why I came home early today. Why don’t we sit in the living room?” This wasn’t going to be a simple conversation, suited to a few minutes of standing in a doorway.
“Okay.” But instead of turning around, she marched further into the kitchen toward the refrigerator. She pulled out a gallon of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream, then went to the utensil drawer, shooting him a defiant look as she withdrew a spoon.
“Make it two,” he told her. They could have ice cream for dinner and, if she was still hungry later, he’d make her salad for dessert.
They sat together on the couch, each digging into the tub while they collected their thoughts.
“Where do you want me to start?” Nick asked her.
“When I was born. You told me that you weren’t married long because you wanted different things.”
“That’s right.” I wanted you, and she didn’t.
He and Pamela Jo had both been alarmed to discover she was pregnant, but they’d married anyway. Nick had loved her, truly believed they were destined to be together. They’d even been eager to have a baby, in that clueless teenage way, with no idea of what parenting really entailed. Though it hadn’t been easy—his trying to take community college classes while Pamela Jo read pregnancy books and tried to cope with his mother day after day—he’d thought they’d make it.
Until the baby came. Pam’s personality had undergone a radical change. Worse than that, it was as if her personality had faded away. She’d shut him out when he’d tried to talk to her, and his mother had downplayed his fears, insisting that Pam was jealous of the baby and competing for Nick’s attention with her listless “act.”