29. Martha Stewart Broke In #3
He didn’t say anything for a minute, letting the quiet buzz of the fridge fill the room.
There was a tension to his silence, a white-knuckle grip in the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the armrests of the recliner.
I let him have the time. Buddy Shepard wasn’t a man of many words, he was a collector of silences, an archivist of unsaid things.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he finally said, his voice smaller than usual. When I looked over, he was blinking hard, eyes shining with unshed tears as he stared down at the papers in his hands. “I’m not gonna be able to keep up with it when you leave.”
“I did have to do it, actually,” I argued, and my voice wobbled more than I wanted. “I had to do all this. Because you’re my family, and this is our home.” I took a deep breath. “And don’t worry about keeping up with it, because I’m staying.”
Buddy’s head jerked up, startled, like he’d just realized there was a second person in the room. “You’re what?”
I swallowed. “I’m not going back to New York.
I’m staying here. In Valentine Bay.” There was no going back now, so I bulldozed ahead.
“I know it’s not what you wanted. I know it’s hard for you, with me around.
But I’m not leaving. I want to be here. I want to work for the farm, and I want to be with Dawson, and I’m sorry if that’s… if I’m too much for you.”
His face contorted in a way I’d never seen, like he was trying to laugh and cry at the same time. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re not makin’ a lick a sense.”
I felt heat rising in my cheeks, and I was suddenly eight years old again, blurting out the secret I’d hidden in my sock drawer, which was I’d found a pack of cigarettes and thought I’d smoked them because I’d put them up to my mouth, I had no clue you had to light them.
“I’m staying. I love Dawson and want to work on the far—”
“Not that.” He waved dismissively. “The part about me not wanting you here.”
“Oh, I know it’s hard for you to see me. I know I’m a reminder of the two people you loved the most in your life and lost, and I’m sorry,” my voice cracked on the apology.
Buddy shook his head, I could see that he was going to deny it, but now that I’d started talking, the words were flowing out. Everything I’d wanted to say to him was being broadcast unfiltered.
“That’s why you kept the letters from me, right?” I asked.
His eyes snapped back to mine, his expression more confused than ever. “What letters?”
I reached into my bag and pulled out the battered bundle of envelopes, the ones I’d found in his desk. I laid them gingerly on the table between us, like a peace offering or maybe a live grenade.
“I found them,” I managed to say, over the lump of anxiety in my throat. “Dawson’s letters. You never gave them to me. You told him you would, but you didn’t because you were afraid if you did, I’d read them and come back, and you didn’t want that to happen.”
He looked at the bundle like it was a snake poised to strike, then at me. There was a lifetime’s worth of hurt in his eyes, but also something softer—regret, maybe, or shame. For a moment I thought he might deny it, but Buddy Shepard never lied. Not even to spare feelings.
He exhaled, slow and shaky, like letting air out of a tire. Then he nodded once and closed his eyes.
“You’re right,” he said, and the admission cost him something.
“I didn’t want you coming back. But not because of you, and sure as hell not because of me.
” He ran a hand over his face, and when he dropped it, he looked older than I’d ever seen him.
“It was because of a promise I made to your mama. Right before we lost her, she grabbed my hand and said, ‘Don’t let Sadie get stuck here. Not like me. Make sure she goes and sees the world.’ She wanted more for you than this little town, this farm.
It was her dying wish. I tried, honey. I really did.
I tried to do what she wanted, even when it killed me not seeing you. ”
I felt the tears before they came, and for once I didn’t bother to hide them. “That’s why you didn’t give me the letters?”
“I knew if you read them, you’d be on the first plane back here. And I love that boy, but he messed up and I wasn’t about to let you throw away your life for a man who’s cattin’ around behind your back. Not like your mama.”
My dad cheated on my mom the entire time they were together, and pretty much bounced after she got pregnant with me, and it affected her health.
I didn’t know Buddy found out what happened with Dawson.
I never told him because I knew he wouldn’t forgive him.
He never said anything, so I thought he was none the wiser.
When I left so suddenly, all I said was that we broke up and I wanted to go see Uncle Ronnie, who had always said there was a room for me if I ever wanted to visit.
I never told Buddy about what I saw at the motel, but I should have known he would hear it in this town.
“Actually, he didn’t,” I explained, my throat tight with emotion.
Buddy’s brow furrowed. “Don’t go makin’ excuses, the boy was young and—”
“Jeremy Miller tried to roofie Donovan Valentine’s beer, but Dawson ended up drinking it, and he passed out. He spoke to Vicki about it and she confirmed nothing happened.”
Buddy looked as shocked as I’d been when I found out.
He also looked guilty. He shook his head, but it was more in awe than disagreement.
“Well, I’m sorry I kept those from you. I was doin’ what I thought was right.
And I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t want you here.
When I look at you, I only see my Sadie-girl, no one else.
I know I checked out after we lost your mama, and I’m sorry about that.
But it had nothing to do with you, I was drownin’ in my grief.
But you’re wrong, I haven’t lost the most important people in my life, the people I love the most. One of them is still here and I’m looking at her.
I had lost you, but it looks like you’re back now.
And if being here is what makes you happy, I am over the moon about it.
I’ve missed you so much.” Tears were forming in his eyes.
I crossed the room, and for the first time since I was a kid, I hugged him. He was stiff for a second, then he put his arms around me and squeezed so tight I thought my ribs might crack. When he let go, he wiped his eyes and laughed, a hoarse bark that startled us both.
“So that’s settled, then. You’re staying,” he said, like he needed to hear it out loud.
I nodded, grinning and crying at the same time. “I’m staying.”
He hugged me once more. “Welcome home, Sadie Rose.”