Chapter 36
chapter
thirty-six
NATE
“You all right, son?” My father points at me around his fork.
Mom eyes me over her glass of sweet tea. “You’ve barely touched your plate.”
Next to me, Teagan blinks, and Sabrina sets her fork down with a clink like my answer requires her full attention. Mira never misses a beat and continues eating.
I don’t want to answer honestly to begin with, but I definitely can’t with Teagan and her friend here. I’d hate to ruin a perfectly good night.
My stomach rolls with something like hunger, but I’m too nauseous to eat.
How can I be all right? Maren’s words carried the weight and speed of a freight train, and it slammed into me so hard yesterday that I still have whiplash.
I’ve made her feel like she’s not enough. I may have pushed her away for good this time, and how can I even blame her?
I genuinely thought I was making a cool suggestion, but it was clearly a detrimental one. How am I supposed to fix it this time?
I haven’t seen her since yesterday afternoon, not with Teagan’s surprise this morning.
She lost another tooth and wanted to share the milestone with me.
She then requested I spend all day with her and Sabrina in Savannah.
I couldn’t deny my daughter, and besides, the three of us rarely have the opportunity to hang out together. It was much needed.
But when I got home to change for supper with my parents, Maren wasn’t home, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s avoiding me again.
She keeps running from me, and I fucking hate that she feels the need to.
I hate that she doesn’t trust that I’m here to stay—in Sapphire Creek. With her.
It’s where I belong. I knew it when I first made plans to move, but ever since I got here, it’s never been more clear to me that this was the right call. In fact, the move back was long overdue.
All of this has my boxers in a twist to the point where I barely slept last night, and now, I can’t even enjoy my mother’s roast with my family.
Because something’s missing.
Maren should be here.
The four of them continue staring at me like they’re waiting on the edge of their seats for the ending to a suspenseful thriller movie.
“I, uh—” What do I say? I don’t want to invite too many questions here, when I’m still trying to work all this out myself. “I stubbed my toe earlier, and it really… hurts.”
“Do you need Sophie? She’ll make you feel better.” Teagan starts to scoot her chair back to fetch her stuffed unicorn from the couch, but I reach out to stop her.
“Maybe once we finish eating.” I smile gently. “Thank you, kiddo.”
She nods and shoves a large bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth. When she struggles to chew, Mira giggles behind her fork. My daughter releases a laugh of her own, and bits of potatoes fly onto her plate.
The table falls silent again as they all watch me until their curious stares threaten to burn my fucking skin.
Ignoring them, I ask the girls, “Are you two ready for the Christmas dance recital next month?”
They both nod, and Teagan adds, “The costumes are red, and it’s my favorite color.”
“I thought purple was your favorite,” I say.
“It is, but red is my favorite Christmas color.”
“I see.” I force myself to eat a bite of roast to appease my mother, and it doesn’t go down easily.
We resume with casual chatter as Sabrina asks Mira about school and what subject she likes best. Mom fusses over everyone’s drinks, and I volunteer to refill the pitchers of water and sweet tea.
“I’ll help.” Sabrina rises and gathers a few empty plates into a lopsided stack.
“No need.” I clutch the pitcher handles as tightly as I might a couple of heavy dumbbells. “I know where the drinks are,” I say in an attempt to joke, but my tone takes on an unintentional edge.
Sabrina waves me off. “I’ll get the dessert.”
“What’s for dessert?” Teagan’s ears perk up.
“Some of your delicious cookies.” Sabrina waggles her eyebrows, then pats the back of my mother’s chair. “Plus, Nan-Nan made her famous earthquake cake.”
The girls share a wide grin, obviously approving our choices for the night.
I wish I could share in their excitement—I should be enjoying this far more than I am.
I’m not subtle about my sour mood, either, judging by the way Sabrina marches on my heel. She’s so close, I’m surprised she doesn’t stomp on my foot. It’s clear that she’s on a mission.
In the kitchen, I don’t even have the chance to set the pitchers down before Sabrina asks, “What happened with Maren?”
I busy myself with refilling the pitchers like I’m assembling something as complicated as a circuit board.
Sabrina sets the dishes into the sink with a loud echo, as if she purposely dropped them in there to scare an answer out of me.
It almost works.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she says. “But I’ll tell you what I know—I’ve never seen you happier than you were the other day. So something clearly happened with Maren that has you on edge, and if you tell me what it is, maybe I can help. I want to help, Nate.”
I grip the edge of the counter and sigh. If I don’t answer her now, I’ll just feel like an even bigger asshole than I do already.
Besides, there are no rules that require I do this alone. It would be nice to get help from someone who knows me as well as Sabrina.
“I…” I rub the side of my jaw, the five o’clock shadow rough on my fingertips. “Do you think I’m pushy?”
Sabrina tilts her head. “Not what I expected you to say.”
“I just mean—when you and I were married, I know we didn’t succeed in the traditional sense as husband and wife, but did I ever push you to be something you’re not? Did I ever make you feel like you weren’t enough exactly as you were?”
Her eyes soften until the crinkles in the corners disappear altogether. “You didn’t. Not so much while we were married, anyway. We were too busy trying to hack parenthood at the time to focus on anything else.”
“But before then?”
“Remember college algebra?” She leans her hip to the sink.
“I was happy with my Bs all semester. Struggled to accomplish that much, but you kept encouraging me to do better. To study harder and to use your detailed notes to help me. You couldn’t seem to accept that I was just a B student when it came to algebra, even though I was thrilled with it. ”
My stomach sinks.
“You’ve always been a hype man, Nate, which isn’t a bad thing. You were great in the delivery room when we had Teagan. You’re so positive and upbeat when she’s struggling with sports or classes. You’re patient and gentle when helping her. I love that about you.”
“But?” I cringe. I know it’s coming, so why dance around it?
She chews on the inside of her cheek. “But it can be a lot. It can feel like we’re not living up to some extreme expectation you’ve set for us.”
My frown deepens. I didn’t know it was possible to feel any shittier than I did half an hour ago. “Why didn’t you ever mention this?” I hold my hands up. “Not that I’m blaming you. I just… I wish I knew how you felt.”
“Because like I said, it’s usually a really good thing.” She comes closer and squeezes my arm. “You mean well. You want to see your loved ones succeed, and I never wanted you to change that. We need you in our corner.”
The tightness in my chest subsides, but only marginally. It doesn’t exactly help me with Maren. I should tell Sabrina the whole story—the woman is rather wise.
I should also discuss my future here. We have so much to figure out.
But we’re interrupted.
“Are the cookies ready?” Teagan appears in the doorway, hands out like she’s expecting us to stack the cookies in her palms.
“Almost, honey.” Sabrina smiles down at her.
“I can help. I am the one who made them.” She gives us a high-pitched snort, and it tugs my smile loose from its previous prison.
Teagan bounces toward the covered dish full of cookies, reaches up, but stops herself. She turns to me with a frown that wasn’t there before.
I crouch to meet her at eye level. “What’s wrong, kiddo? Is your tooth bothering you?”
She tightens her thin lips and shakes her head. “Was just thinking about the contest.”
“Are you nervous?” Sabrina leans her hands on her knees.
“Kind of.” Teagan turns to me. “If I don’t win first place, Daddy, I’ll keep practicing. I’ll get better for next year’s contest, and I’ll win. Because my best can be better.” She tilts her head high.
And my gaze crashes onto Sabrina’s, who stares back at me with much the same shock that I’m experiencing. I flounder for words, but all I can manage is to feel.
Disappointment.
Guilt.
Regret.
All in myself.
I was wrong before when I thought I couldn’t feel shittier—letting my daughter down takes the fucking cake, or in this case, the cookie.
I’ve let my good intentions taint my own daughter’s self-esteem. What is wrong with me?
“Honey, your father is so proud of you no matter what,” Sabrina jumps in. “You don’t need to worry.”
I sit back on my heels as the weight of her insecurities because of me crashes over me like a heavy wave, absolutely drowning me.
And the hits keep fucking coming.
“I know.” Teagan nods, but her frown remains firmly in place. “But Daddy, you get so excited when I win stuff.”
“Kiddo, come here,” I manage. It’s hard to find my damn voice. I squeeze Teagan’s shoulders. “I think I got ahead of myself with the whole ‘best can be better’ stuff.”
Her thin brows knit together.
“I only ever meant to encourage you to put your best foot forward in everything you do. That you deserve to give your best for you—no one else. It’s how we grow. Does that make sense?”
“Kind of.” She shrugs.
I wrap her in a hug and rest my temple against hers. “Kiddo, you know I’m always proud of you, especially when you’re doing something you love, like baking.”
“And dancing.” She clings to my arms with her tiny hands, and my heart melts.
My smile is lost in her hair as I place a kiss on top of her head.
Mira calls for her from the other room, and Teagan pulls away to run after her friend, calling over her shoulder, “Love you, Daddy.”
Once she’s out of earshot, I stand upright again and ram a hand through my hair. “Fuck,” I mutter.
“She’s a kid, Nate. You haven’t done anything wrong. She’s still learning to piece her life together.” Sabrina’s tone is agonizingly gentle and understanding.
But my guilt only strengthens until it feels like my organs are three times their normal size.
Everything’s heavy, and each breath becomes nearly impossible.
“I’m failing her.” I close my eyes and shove my hand through my hair several more times.
“Stop.” Sabrina pulls my hands down.
“It’s just that I was never really good at stuff.
I’m not naturally good at math or sports.
I don’t have inherent talents that I’ve never had to work on.
” I shake my head. “I always had to work triple hard at everything. In high school, I studied far more than any other classmate to earn my title of Salutatorian. I stayed to run drills for an extra hour after every football practice. In my career, I’ve always spent longer editing photos than I should have to get them just right.
My first attempts were never good enough.
” I wiggle out of Sabrina’s reassuring hold—I don’t deserve it—and I pace in front of her, the stars blurring across the night sky through the window.
“It was the only way for me to be good at anything.”
“But that’s just it, Nate.” She offers a sympathetic smile. “You’re good at just being you. That’s all any of us need.”
Her words should make me feel better. I should be relieved to hear that I haven’t fucked up everything beyond repair. That I’m just being hard on myself, which might actually be the one thing I’ve always been naturally great at.
Her kind and genuine words hit me square in the chest, but instead of seeping inside and untangling the mess there, they bounce off like a ball against a wall.
Instead of accepting them and feeling better, I instantly reject them like I have no other choice.
“I believe I can help with this.”
Sabrina and I jerk toward the entrance of the kitchen to find my mother standing there with a glistening sheen of tears in her eyes. She clearly heard everything and has plenty to add.
The damn hits are most certainly coming at warped speed.
Mom eases into the kitchen, keeping her back glued to the wall like she’s afraid to get any closer. I’ve never seen her like this, so out of sorts.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, and apprehension gnaws at me.
Sabrina inches away. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
Once she disappears, Mom wrings her hands in front of her and shifts against the wall. “It’s just that… Well, let’s put it this way…” She holds her hand below waist level. “When you were yay big, you were afraid of your own shadow.”
I wince.
“Some of the other kids would tease you, as they do. Kids can be cruel sometimes, but they usually don’t know any better.
” She sighs, and her shoulders slump forward.
“Your father and I had this ideal to do everything we could to encourage you. We wanted you to overcome your fears and do anything you set your mind to. We didn’t want anything holding you back, but in doing so… ”
She sheds the tears she’s been holding back, and I’ve officially hit rock bottom now that I’ve made my own mother cry.
I can’t fucking take this.
“Please, Mom—”
“In doing so,” she starts again, her lips trembling, “I think we made you feel like you had to excel at everything, and I’m sorry. We never meant to put that kind of pressure on you. I just never realized it, and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Mom finally pushes off the wall and crosses the width of the kitchen, her hands reaching for me. “Please. Let me make this up to you.”
“You can’t seriously think you did anything wrong by believing in me.”
Except that’s exactly what she spends the next hour discussing with me.
More tears are shed, especially when my dad joins the not-so-fun party we’ve launched in the kitchen.
It’s all absolutely insane, but the more we talk, the more my vision clears. The more sense it all makes, and the more my urge to run to Maren burns.