Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(30)

Dan tilts his head to the side. “Roland has always been a deep wound for your mother, Kennedy. It took me a while to figure out why. I mean, sure she was left a single mother, but lots of parents, unfortunately, are left in the same position. Your mom just had this particularly deep reaction any time his name was brought up.”

“Which is why she rarely ever did,” I cut in. I thought I knew where Dan was going with the conversation, but his face is telling a much different story than the scorned grudge-holding woman I’d painted in my mind.

It dawns on me before he starts speaking again that he and Roland are the most emotionally available people in my life. Lord, literally, only knows why I was “blessed” with such vulnerable men, but part of me thinks it has to do with a much-needed balance to mine and Mom’s strict rule that keeps all emotions—except anger—locked away. Sure, Mom and I can be emotional with each other, but we have our limits. One deep conversation every couple of months is good. This past weekend was a strenuous exercise for the both of us.

“Right,” Dan answers. “He was just completely off limits. And, I came to realize rather quickly that while it was because she was deeply hurt, it wasn’t because she was angry about the pain. She was mourning it.”

I lean back in my chair, the wrought iron cold against my bare arms. “Mourning?”

Dan swallows hard and breaks eye contact with me, his warm smile has long since vacated his face. “She has always been—and will always be—in love with him. I can’t make that go away, and I can’t fix her pain, but I can love the hell out of her. And, she loves me back. But it’s never the same as your first true love.”

I stopped listening coherently around the first time he said, “love.”

“What?” I come out with. “You can’t be serious.” My ears burn against the preposterous suggestion.

Dan offers a side grin. “You still have a lot to learn about love, Kennedy. But, trust me, what your mother and Roland had was real.”

“Yeah,” I scoff, “then he left her for a life of booze.”

His lips form a tight line. “That’s why it hurt her so bad. He wasn’t some deadbeat that she was just fooling around with. He was the love of her life.”

Leaning forward, I cross my arms on the table in front of me. “And you’re telling me you think she’s still in love with him?”

He nods, a slow, deliberate nod. “She always will be. And that’s okay. I don’t constantly compare myself to him or the relationship they had twenty years ago, but I keep that in the back of my head to always remind myself the kind of tenderness your mother needs. Reassurance. Stability. She’s tough as nails on the outside, and mostly on the inside—you know that. But her heart?” He sighs and eyes me again. “There are some wounds that will never fully heal. And, in some ways, I don’t think she wants them to.”

“That’s stupid.” I scrunch my eyebrows. “Why would someone want to keep open wounds floating around their body?”

Dan shrugs and speaks matter-of-factly. “To remind themselves that the love was real.”

My chin quivers, and despite my years of upper-level WASP training to prevent it—tears fall down my cheeks. Now, I assure you I don’t fall into a dramatic puddle with my head down and shoulders shaking, but the tears stream just as rapidly. Warm against my autumn-chilled cheeks.

I’ve seen the way Roland looks at my mom. The classic “one that got away” dances in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking, but there’s always something more. Something deeper. Beyond regret. Beyond repentance, really. Maybe it is love.

Maybe he still loves her, which wouldn’t be so hard for me to wrap my head around.

But, what if she does still love him? Has always and will always?

I brush some tears away from my eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

This wholly inappropriate information.

“Because, Kennedy, with all you’re undertaking right now, you deserve to know the full story. I know you’re teasing out your relationship with Roland, and dealing with your mother … I just … I want you to know there’s more there than legal documents and a jug of booze. So much more. What defined their relationship wasn’t how it ended, it was how it was. And if you’re going to have half a shot in hell of any sort of authentic relationship with Roland, you needed to know how deeply he and your mother loved each other.”

“And still do?” I huff through my nose.

“And still do,” he confirms.

I dry my cheeks and stand. Dan follows. I don’t have to ask him if I need to keep this conversation between the two of us. We know my mother well enough that the privacy of these words needs no discussion.

I walk slowly toward the front door of Word, and Dan follows a few paces behind me.

“I’m confused,” I admit blankly, turning to face him before heading back inside. “Confused why you told me, and confused as to what I’m supposed to do with it.”

Dan places a hand on my shoulder and leans forward, kissing my forehead. I don’t move out of the way. I need something to be the way it’s always been.

“Just keep going,” he half-whispers. “This story precedes you, yes, but it’s always been yours. You’re meant for big things, Kennedy. I’ve always believed that.”