Page 47 of Rootbound
“He called it ‘the Dinosaur Butthole.’” I smirk up at her and take a bite of my sandwich while she looks back out over the view and cocks her head to the side.
She closes her eyes and laughs through her nose. “Okay. I see it.” She sits down next to me and starts to unwrap her food, giving it a funny look before she begins to eat.
We continue this way for a bit, eating and sipping our beers, until curiosity, and some kind of nosy feeling—one that’s completely unfamiliar to me, because I normally just don’t give a shit about other people’s business—prompt me to ask, “So, what were you guys talking about back there? Things going ok with you two?”
She pauses in her chewing, hazards a glance my way.
“Not a lot, actually. We haven’t exactly gotten into the meat of things.” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m worried that his answers will leave me more angry, will make me bitter over something I didn’t even know I missed.”
“Well, do you feel that way now? I mean, did you already feel a little sad or bitter about not having a relationship with him before you came here?” I decide to elaborate at herskeptical look. “I just mean, maybe assess the risk, and decide if it’s worth it to you to bond again. You’ll have to go through some of the negative crap, sure. But if you were fine before you got here, then maybe you’ll be just fine when you leave, too. Regardless of whether or not you want your father in your life. Do you think you have any unresolved bitterness?”
She thinks for a second, raising her eyebrows when she answers, “Honestly, no. I don’t think I do. I think when I was a kid, sure. But it’s been so many years, and I have a great life, in spite of the messy parts. I don’t love to dwell on what I don’t have.” She shrugs. “If that sounds calloused, I’m not sure. But I’ve had adventure, excitement, and I have my sister and nephew and her family. I don’t think it’d be fair for me to sit back and mourn or be deeply angry over missing some Father-Daughter dances.”
“Jesus, Tait, you are way more like him than you realize.” I shake my head. Stubborn asses, both determined to plow forward and tell bad feelings to fuck off.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, to me at least, it sounds like you have an impressive ability to let shit go. Or to convince yourself that you are over things, even if you’re not.”
Her face drains of color at that, her mouth dropping open a bit before she recovers; and then she starts gathering up her trash as she stands.
“What did I say?” I ask, panicked that some part of that was so upsetting that she’snotarguing, not even attempting a sarcastic comeback.
“Nothing that isn’t true, Henry. But I don’t want it to be. I don’t want to let shit go.” And she starts her march back.
Twenty-Three
Tait
Henry’s observation sets my heart racing at a new rhythm. Because, when it comes to Charlie, I fucking deserve to know why. I shouldn’t have to move forward until I get some goddamn answers to things, shouldn’t just be expected to be happy because of some obscure scale of blessings and hardships I’ve built for myself in my head. Because Ihaven’tlet it go. And if I did, then I want it back. I want to know why he didn’t try to stay in our lives, and I want to figure out if I want the Logans in it going forward.
I let my husband go. Let my friends go. Let my mom go, taking her as I could when she’d be good to us, butalwaysletting it go when she wasn’t. I let my damn house go, didn’t even take a piece of furniture with me.
“Why didyoustop trying… with Ava and I?” I say as soon as Charlie’s in front of me.
He sucks in a quick breath, but the look on his face says he knew it was coming… Grady was right—he wears hisinternal conversation on his face. Another thing we apparently share. I see the tilt in his brow go from embarrassed discomfort, to irritation, and settle on something in between.
“You’re ready to start this now?” he asks.
“I think it’s as good a time as any… I mean, I’m here anyway,” I say, and try to shrug, not wanting to bulldoze him before I can get some answers. “I guess I want to know why the split even happened in the first place.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing, his eyes scanning back and forth like he doesn’t know where to begin.
“Did Viv—your mom—ever tell you how we met?” he asks.
“No, but I don’t see how that has anything to do with this?” I feel my face frown.
“Tait. I won’t claim that I was a good husband when it came to your mother. Young, stupid… We couldn’t ever get on the same page, it seemed. I feel like it is important for you to know how we began, though. Can you let me tell you? It’s important, I think, for you to understand.” He is talking to the ground, but I can hear the emotion in his voice. I nod, and he must see it out of his peripheral, because he proceeds.
“Your mother and I met for the first time when Duane brought her home withhimfor summer break in college.” My mouth falls open in confusion, but he trudges on.
“He was very clearly smitten with her, but she wasn’t nearly as much with him. Still, I knew how he felt about her, and I didn’t care. It felt… out of our control. I can’t explain it. It was like love at first sight, and the more we got to know each other just felt like confirmation of those feelings.”
A ball of sadness and anger rolls in mystomach… the words “out of our control” are so similar to what Cole once told me.
“Duane and I were constantly at odds with each other. He had the brilliant business sense, was a walking calculator, and was—is—still good at everything he puts his mind to. But, he hated it here. Ranching was never for him, and even now I think he would rather be in charge of his own separate thing. Your grandfather wasn’t gracious about it, which pitted us against each other constantly… and… well, your mother and I weren’t exactly proud of what we were doing, but…” He sighs shakily. “We were in love. And then… then we found out about you.” He shrugs.
This is news to me, too. I’d never thought to ask about my conception.