Her fingers move over the screen for several seconds before she hands me back my phone. "There. Now you have four."
I look down at my screen and read her contact. I laugh when I see the name she entered for herself.
Auburn Mason-is-the-best-middle-name Reed.
I slide my phone back in my pocket and touch her hand against the mesh again. "Your turn," I say to her.
She shakes her head. "You still have a lot of catching up to do. Keep going."
I sigh and roll onto my back. I don't want to tell her anything else yet, but I'm scared if we don't get out of this tent soon, I'll tell her everything I know and everything she doesn't want to hear. But maybe it's best that way. Maybe if I tell her the truth, she can accept it and trust me and know that as soon as I get back, things will be different. Maybe if I tell her the truth, we'll have a chance of making it beyond Monday.
"That night I didn't show up here?" I pause, because my heart is beating so fast I'm finding it hard to think around it. I know I need to admit this to her, but I haven't known how to bring it up. No matter how I spin it, I know she'll react negatively, and I get that. But I'm tired of not being honest with her.
I roll onto my side and face her. I open my mouth to confess, but I'm spared by the knock on her front door.
Her confused expression reveals that she isn't used to visitors. "I need to get that. Wait here." She immediately climbs out of the tent, and I roll onto my back and exhale. In a matter of seconds, she's back in her room and kneeling down in front of the tent.
"Owen."
Her voice is frantic, and I lift up on my elbows as she pokes her head inside. Her eyes are full of worry. "I have to get the door, but please don't come out of my room, okay? I'll explain everything as soon as she leaves. I promise."
I nod, hating the fear in her voice. I also hate that she suddenly wants to hide me from whoever is at her door.
She backs away and closes the bedroom door. I fall back onto the pillow and listen, aware that I'm about to get one of her confessions, even though she doesn't quite seem ready to share it with me.
I hear the front door open and the first thing I hear is a child's voice. "Mommy, look! Look what Nana Lydia bought me."
And then I hear her respond. "Wow. That's exactly the one you wanted."
Did he just call you Mommy?
I hear feet shuffling across the floor. I hear a woman's voice say, "I know this is last-minute, but we were supposed to leave for Pasadena hours ago. However, my mother-in-law was admitted to the hospital and Trey is on duty--"
"Oh no, Lydia," Auburn interrupts.
"Oh, she's fine. Diabetic issues again, which wouldn't happen if she'd just take care of herself like I tell her. But she doesn't, and then expects the entire family to give up their plans in order to take care of her."
I hear a doorknob turning. "AJ, no," I hear Auburn say. "Stay out of Mommy's room."
"Anyway," the woman says, "I have to take some things to her but they don't allow children in the ICU, so I need you to watch him for a couple of hours."
"Of course," she says. "Here?"
"Yes, I don't have time to drive you to our house."
"Okay," she says. She sounds excited. She sounds like she's not used to the woman trusting her to do this. She's so excited, I don't think she notices AJ is opening her bedroom door again.
"I'll pick him up later tonight," the woman says.
"He can spend the night," Auburn replies, hopeful. "I'll bring him back in the morning."
Her bedroom door is open now and a little boy falls to his knees directly in front of the tent. I lift up on my elbows and smile at him, because he's smiling at me.
"Why are you in a tent?" he asks.
I bring my finger up to my mouth. "Shhh."
He grins and crawls inside the tent. He looks to be about four or five years old, and his eyes aren't green like Auburn's. They're all different colors. Browns and grays and greens. Like a canvas.
He doesn't have her unique shade of hair color, as his is dark brown. I'm assuming he gets that from his father, but I still see a lot of Auburn in him. Mostly in his expression, and how he seems so curious.
"Is the tent a secret?" he asks.
I nod. "Yes. And no one knows this tent is here, so we need to keep it between us, okay?"
He smiles and nods, like he's excited to have a secret. "I can keep secrets."
"That's good," I say to him. "Because it's not muscles that make men strong. Secrets do. The more secrets you keep, the stronger you are on the inside."
He grins. "I want to be strong."
I'm about to tell him to go back to the living room before any attention is brought to me, but I can hear the opening of the bedroom door.
"AJ, come give Nana Lydia a hug," the woman says. Her footsteps grow louder and AJ's eyes grow wide.
"Lydia, wait," I hear Auburn say to her with panic in her voice. But she says it a second too late, because I don't have time to pull my feet inside the tent before Lydia walks into the room.
I can see her steps come to an immediate halt. I don't have to see her face to know that she's not very happy about the fact that AJ is in this tent right now.
"AJ," her voice is firm. "Come out of the tent, sweetie."
AJ grins at me and puts his finger to his mouth. "I'm not in a tent, Nana Lydia. There's no tent in here."
"Lydia, I can explain," Auburn says, bending down. She motions for AJ to come out of the tent, and her eyes only meet mine for a second. "He's just a friend. He was helping me put up this tent for AJ."
"AJ, let's go, honey." Lydia grabs his hand, pulling him out of the tent. "You may be okay with allowing your son to be around complete strangers, but I'm not."
I can see the disappointment wash over Auburn. It washes over AJ, too, when he realizes Lydia isn't letting him stay. I follow after him, crawling out of the tent, standing up. "It's fine, I'll go," I say. "We just finished setting it up for him."
Lydia looks me up and down, unimpressed with whatever she thinks she sees. I want to eye her the same way, but I don't want to do anything to make this worse for Auburn. When I get a good look at her, I realize I've seen her before. It's been a while, but she hasn't changed a bit, other than having a little more gray in her straight, black hair. She still looks just as stoic and intimidating as she did all those years ago.
She faces AJ.
"AJ, get your toy. We need to go."
Auburn follows Lydia out of the room. "Lydia, please." She waves her hand in my direction. "He's leaving. It'll just be me and AJ here, I promise."
Lydia's hand pauses on the front door, and she turns to face Auburn. She releases a quick sigh. "You can see him Sunday night, Auburn. Really, it's fine. I should have known not to stop by unannounced."
She looks over Auburn's shoulder to AJ. "Tell your mother good-bye, AJ."
I can see Auburn grimace and then just as fast, her frown turns into a smile as she turns around and kneels down in front of AJ. She pulls him to her and hugs him. "I'm sorry, but you're gonna go with Nana Lydia tonight, okay?" She pulls away from him and brushes her hand through his hair. "I'll see you Sunday night."
"But I want to stay here," he says with genuine disappointment.
Auburn tries to hide it with her smile, but I can see how his words have gutted her. She ruffles his hair and says, "Another night, okay? Mommy has to get up really early and work tomorrow and you won't have any fun if all we do is go to sleep."
"It'll be fun," he says. He points toward the bedroom. "You have a tent and we could sleep in--" AJ's eyes cut to mine and he realizes he just mentioned the secret tent. He looks back at Auburn and shakes his head. "Never mind, you don't have a tent. I was wrong, you don't."
As shitty as I feel about what's happening right now, the kid makes me smile.
"AJ, let's go."
Auburn gives him another tight hug and whispers, "I love you. I'll love you forever." She kisses his forehead and he kisses her
cheek before taking Lydia's hand. Auburn doesn't even turn around to tell Lydia good-bye, and I don't blame her one bit. As soon as the door closes, she stands and brushes past me, heading straight to her bedroom. I watch as she pulls back the flap and crawls into the tent.
I stand at her door and listen to her cry.
It all makes sense now. Why she was so upset that Lydia stood her up on her birthday, because that meant she didn't get to spend it with AJ.
Why she said his favorite color is blue.
Why she moved to Texas, when she seems so unhappy here.
And why there is no way in hell I'll be able to walk away from her now. Not after witnessing that. Not after seeing how incredible she is when she loves that little boy.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Auburn
I hear the partition being unzipped, and then I feel a hand on my arm, followed by an arm sliding beneath my pillow. Owen pulls me against him and I immediately want to pull away, but at the same time I'm surprised at the level of comfort I feel wrapped in his arms. I close my eyes and wait for his questions to come. I'll just lie here and enjoy the comfort until he strips it away with his curiosity.
His hand moves up and down my arm, stroking me gently. After several minutes of silence, he finds my fingers and slides his through mine.
"When I was sixteen," he says quietly, "my mother and older brother died in a car wreck. I was driving."
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can't even imagine. Suddenly my issues don't seem like issues at all.
"My father was in a coma for several weeks after that. I stayed by his side the entire time. Not because I necessarily wanted to be there when he woke up, but because I didn't know where else to go. Our home was empty. My friends had lives they continued to live, so I rarely saw them after the funeral. I had relatives who would stop by in the beginning, but even that faded. By the end of that first month, it was just my father and me. And I was terrified that if he died, too, I wouldn't have anything left to live for."
I slowly roll onto my back and look up at him. "What happened?"
Owen reaches his fingers to my forehead and brushes back my hair. "He lived, obviously," he says quietly. "He woke up right before the one-month anniversary of the wreck. And as happy as I was that he was okay, I don't think reality sank in until I had to tell him what happened. He couldn't recall anything from the day leading up to the wreck, nor could he recall anything after that point. And when I had to tell him that my mother and Carey were dead, I saw it. I saw the life seep right out of his eyes. And I haven't seen it return since the night it happened."
I wipe tears from my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I tell him.
He shakes his head, like he doesn't need my condolences. "Don't be," he says to me. "It's not something I dwell on. The wreck wasn't my fault. Of course I miss them, and it hurts every day, but I also know that life has to go on. And my mother and Carey weren't the type of people who would want me to use their deaths as an excuse." His fingers move gently, back and forth, across my jaw. He's not looking me in the eyes. He's looking beyond me, over my head, contemplating.
"Sometimes I miss them so much, it hurts me right here," he says, making a tight fist with his hand against his chest. "It feels like someone is squeezing my heart with the strength of the entire goddamn world."
I nod, because I know exactly what he means. I feel that way every time I think of AJ and the fact that he's not living with me.
"Every time I get that feeling in my chest, I start to think about the things I miss most about them. Like my mother, and the way she used to smile at me. Because no matter what, no matter where we were, her smile would always comfort me. We could have been in the middle of a war and all she had to do was kneel down and look me in the eyes with that smile, and it would take away every single fear or worry I had. And somehow, even on her bad days, when I know she didn't feel like smiling, she would anyway. Because to her, nothing else mattered but my happiness. And I miss that. Sometimes I miss it so much, the only way I can make myself feel better is to paint her."
He laughs under his breath. "I have about twenty paintings of my mother stowed away. It's kind of creepy."
I laugh with him, but seeing how much he loves his mother puts the ache back in my chest, and my laugh turns into a frown. It makes me wonder if AJ will ever feel that for me, since I'm not able to be the type of mother I want to be to him right now.
Owen cups my cheek in his hand and looks me very seriously in the eyes. "I saw the way you looked at him, Auburn. I saw the way you smiled at him. You smiled at him the same way my mother used to smile at me. And I don't care what that woman may think of you as a mother; I barely know you, and I could feel how much you love that little boy."
I close my eyes and let his words seep over every doubtful thought I've ever had when it comes to my abilities as a mom.
I've been a mother for over four years now.
Four.
And in those four years, Owen is the first person to ever say anything that makes me feel like I'm capable of being a good mother. And even though he hardly knows me, and he doesn't know a thing about my situation, I can feel the belief he holds in the words he's saying to me. The simple fact that he believes what he's saying makes me want to believe it, too.
"Really?" I say quietly. I open my eyes and look up at him. "Because sometimes I feel like--"
He cuts me off with an adamant shake of his head. "Don't," he says firmly. "I don't know your situation, and I assume if you wanted me to know, you would have told me. So I'm not going to ask. But I can tell you that what I just witnessed was a woman who takes advantage of your insecurities. Don't allow her to make you feel that way, Auburn. You're a good mother. A good mother."
Another tear escapes, and I quickly turn my head away. I know in my heart that I could be a good mother if Lydia would give me the chance. I know that the way things have turned out isn't my fault. I was sixteen and unprepared when I had him. But I never knew how good it could feel for someone else to believe in me.
Finding out about AJ could have sent Owen out the door in a flash. Finding out I don't have custody of my son could have filled him with misjudgments about me. Neither of those things happened, though. Instead, he used this opportunity to encourage me. To make me feel better. And no one has made me feel this way since the day Adam passed away.
Thank you just doesn't seem like enough, so instead of speaking, I face him again. He's still hovering over me, looking down on me. I reach my hand up and around the back of his head, and I lift my mouth to his.
I kiss him softly, and he does nothing to try to stop it, nor does he try to prolong it. He just accepts the kiss as he inhales slowly. I don't part my lips, and neither of us attempts to take the kiss further. I think we both know that this kiss was more of a "Thank you" than an "I want you."
When I pull away, his eyes are closed and he looks as peaceful as he just made me feel.
I lie back against the pillow and watch as he slowly opens his eyes. A smile forms on his lips and he lies down next to me, both of us staring up at the top of the tent.
"His father was my first boyfriend," I say, explaining my situation to him. It feels good to tell him. I don't tell a lot of people much, but I want to tell Owen everything for some reason.
"He passed away when I was fifteen. Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant with AJ. When my parents found out, they wanted me to put him up for adoption. They had four other children to care for besides me, and it was hard enough for them to put food on the table for all of us. There was no way they could afford an infant, but there was also no way I was going to give up my son. Luckily, Lydia came up with a compromise.
"She said if I agreed to give her legal custody after he was born, I could live with her and help raise him. She wanted reassurance that I wouldn't end up putting him up for adoption, and primary custody of him would give her that reassurance. She also said it would be easier for medical and insurance reasons. I didn't question her. I was you
ng, I had no idea what any of it meant. I just knew it was my only guarantee that I could keep AJ, so I did it. I would have signed whatever she wanted if it meant I could be with him.
"Once AJ was born, she took over completely. She was never pleased with how I did anything. She made me feel ignorant. And after a while, I started to believe her. After all, I was young, and she had raised children before, so I assumed she knew more than me. By the time I graduated high school, Lydia was making all the decisions for him. And one of those decisions was that he was going to stay with her while I attended college."
Owen finds my hand and pulls it between us, holding on to it. I appreciate the encouraging gesture, because this is a hard confession.
"Instead of attending a four-year university, I decided to attend cosmetology school, since it was only a one-year program. I thought once I graduated and got my own place, she'd let him live with me. But three months before graduation, her husband passed away. She moved back to Texas to be closer to Trey, her other son. And she took my son with her."
Owen sighs. "That's why you moved to Texas? You couldn't stop her from leaving Oregon?"
I shake my head. "She has the legal right to take him anywhere she wants. She said Texas was a better place to raise a child and that if I wanted what was best for AJ, I would move here after graduation. My final class ended at five P.M. on a Friday and I had moved into this apartment less than twenty-four hours later."
"What about your parents?" he says. "They couldn't do anything to stop it?"
I shake my head. "My parents have been supportive of my decisions, but they don't get involved. They don't really have a close relationship with AJ since I moved out of their house and into Lydia's when I was pregnant with him. Besides, they have enough to worry about. I would feel bad telling them how Lydia is treating me, because it would just make them feel guilty for allowing me to move out all those years ago."
"So you just pretend everything is okay?"
I glance up at him and nod, slightly worried as to what I might see in his eyes. Contempt? Disappointment? When our eyes meet, I don't see either of those things. I see sympathy. And maybe a little bit of anger.
"Is it okay for me to say that I hate Lydia?"
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