Chapter 37
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Elliott
The cards have been dealt, but nobody is playing.
Hell, I’ve been staring at my hand for at least three minutes and still haven’t seen a single card.
“So…” Ansel says. “Are we gonna talk about it, or are we going to sit here and pretend Elliott isn’t vibrating?”
“I’m not vibrating.”
“Your knee is shaking the table,” Sam says quietly.
I realize he’s right and force myself to stop, pressing a hand to my thigh.
Though I have no doubt almost everyone at this table already knows what I’m about to say, given how news travels around Echo Lake, I draw a steeling breath first, because once the words are out there, I can’t snatch them back. And it will make this more real.
“Kate’s returned to town.”
The room is already silent, but the silence grows heavier.
Roy sets down his hand, Hollis stops shuffling his chips, and Jimmy uncrosses his arms. Clyde isn’t here tonight, but if he were, he would’ve probably launched into some sixteen-minute monologue.
“She wants to see Baylor. Claims to want to be a part of her life now.” I force myself to pick up my beer and guzzle some, just for something to do. Just so I don’t have to listen to the silence that now feels too loud.
This kitchen table has seen a lot over the years. It’s the same table Roy sat all my siblings and me down at to tell us our dad wouldn’t be coming back. It’s the same table where I told Roy that Kate had left. And now it’s the table where I’m telling him that she wants back in our lives.
“What did you tell her?” Roy asks.
“That I needed to think about it.”
“You needed to stew about it,” Hollis says.
I don’t bother responding.
“I’m surprised you didn’t personally escort her past the county line,” Ansel says.
“She says she’s in a different place now and that she wants to have a relationship with her daughter, but that it’s up to me.”
“And?” Ansel arches an eyebrow.
“And I feel like bashing my head against this fucking table so I don’t have to make this decision.”
“That’s you reacting. What are you actually thinking?” Roy asks.
I scrub a hand over my face. “I’m thinking she left. She made a choice, and she left her six-month-old daughter and never looked back for more than five years. And now she’s changed her mind, and I’m supposed to what? Roll out the red carpet for her? Just forget the past?”
“Nobody said that,” Roy says.
“She left a baby.” My hands press flat on the table.
“I know what she left.”
“She left my baby.” I bring my fist down on the table, and the beer bottles and the poker chips jump.
“I know.” Roy squeezes my shoulder.
“I say fuck her,” Ansel says over the rim of his beer.
“It’s not that easy.” I pick up my own beer and take another pull.
“Why?”
“Because it’s not about how I feel or what I want. It’s about what’s best for Baylor.”
“What’s your gut say?” Jimmy asks. He’s been quiet, which probably means he’s building toward making a point.
“My gut says to tell her no.”
“That your gut or fear?”
I meet his gaze. “My gut.” Though I feel less certain now.
He nods. “You’re a good father, Elliott. You’ll make the right decision by your daughter. But your gut and fear have been sharing the same office for a long time, and sometimes I wonder if you know which one’s talking.”
Sam nods. One small movement that carries the weight of his agreement.
“What if I let her in and she leaves again?” I press the back of my neck. “Baylor doesn’t remember her. If Kate comes back into her life and leaves again, she’ll remember this time.”
“It’s a real risk,” Roy says.
“Exactly my point.”
“It’s a real risk, Elliott. But what about the other scenario? The one where Kate means what she says and Baylor gets to grow up with her mother in her life. You’re only considering the version where things go wrong.”
“Because that’s what happened last time.”
“That’s why there’s always a next time.”
I shake my head.
“Elliott, I’m on your side. I am.” Hollis raises his hands in front of himself, and I know that whatever he’s about to say, I’m probably not going to like it.
“Baylor is almost six. She doesn’t ask a bunch of questions about Kate, but she will at some point.
She’s going to want to see pictures of her and know what she was like.
And someday she’ll probably ask you where her mom is and how come she never came back for her.
You’ll have to answer. And if you have to answer, ‘Your mom wanted to come back, but I said no,’ that’s going to be hard for her to understand, and something you have to live with. ”
The table goes quiet again, no one moving an inch.
I fix my eyes on him. “That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair,” Sam says. “Kate made sure of that the day she left. The question is, what gives Baylor the best chance?”
My forehead creases. “The best chance at what?”
Sam holds my gaze. “At growing up not wondering.”
Those words feel like a fist to my chest, because I grew up wondering—wondering why my mom had to die, and why my father had to end up in jail.
I wondered every single day of my life, and looking back, I can’t help but think that maybe the wondering was worse than the answers might have been, because at least the answers would’ve been something.
And I have physical evidence of that wonder living in my bunkie right now.
Emelia was left wondering too, and I know how long she’s carried it with her, and how it’s shaped how she sees herself.
“You don’t have to decide today,” Roy says. “Or even next week. But when you do decide, it needs to be because you made the decision for Baylor, not against Kate. Those are two different things.”
I stare at the worn kitchen table for a long moment. “One meeting. At the house. And if I don’t like what I see, that’s it.”
My entire heart cinches at the thought of having Kate in the house. Interacting and watching her with Baylor. But my hands are tied. This is what parenting is about—doing the shit that’s best for them even if it might end up horribly wrong.
“That’s fair,” Roy says.
“More than fair,” Ansel mutters.
Hollis holds my gaze with those eyes that always see too much. He nods, but in that nod, I know he’s acknowledging that making this decision and rolling the dice on Kate again is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Sam picks up his hand and arranges his cards, and one by one, we all do the same.
I’m not sure how to talk to Emelia about this, something I realized when I was on the deck with her earlier. It feels so odd because, practically since she arrived in town, talking openly and honestly with her has been the only thing I could do.