From This Moment

by Melanie Harlow

  “Oh, Abby.” My mother looked like she was about to cry. “Even if Uncle Wes sold his house, he can’t be your daddy.”

  “Why not? My friend Kenzie got a new daddy after her parents got a divorce. She got to be a flower girl in the wedding.”

  My stomach was tightening up, and I set my fork down, trying to think of some way to get off this topic before the conversation took a horrible turn. But I was too late.

  “Because he’s your uncle, and your uncle cannot be your daddy, ever.” My mother’s tone was final.

  “But he could get married to Mommy,” Abby said.

  “No, darling, because your mommy was his brother’s wife, and he’d never do that to his brother.” She looked right at me as she said it. “A man can’t marry his brother’s wife. It’s wrong. Terribly, despicably wrong.”

  “It is?” Abby looked at me. Her eyes were full of tears.

  “Yes,” my mother snapped.

  “But they love each other. They hold hands and kiss.”

  My mother gasped. The look she gave me singed my skin. “No. I’m sure you’re mistaken, Abby. You couldn’t possibly have seen something so vile.”

  “What’s vile?”

  “Okay.” I cleared my throat. “I think we’ve talked about that enough. Abby, what story should I read to your class? Do you have a favorite?”

  She didn’t answer. After poking at her breakfast for a moment, she put down her fork. “Nana, my tummy hurts. Can I be done?”

  My mother pursed her lips. “Yes.”

  Abby slid off her booster seat and slowly walked out of the kitchen, her mouth turned down, her eyes on the floor. I felt horrible—my stomach hurt too.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was a mess. And Abby was sure to go home and tell Hannah about it.

  “Wesley Davis Parks, is there anything you want to tell me?” my mother asked coldly.

  “No.” That was the truth, at least. I didn’t want to tell her a damn thing.

  “Don’t be smart with me. What is going on with you and Hannah?”

  “It’s none of your business, Mom.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Keep your voice down.” I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. “We’re friends. We enjoy spending time together.”

  She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. “Were you really at Pete’s house last night?”

  I didn’t answer. She got up from the table and started doing the dishes, handling them so roughly I was shocked one didn’t break.

  God, I was so angry with her! Why did she have to say those things? Why did she have to believe those things? Did that mean she wasn’t ever going to accept me and Hannah together? Was she going to make me choose between them? I’d choose Hannah, because my mother was the one who was terribly, despicably wrong here, but I hadn’t been able to stand up for myself because I didn’t want to out Hannah and me without her permission or in front of her daughter.

  My mother couldn’t remain silent for long. She faced me, hands on her hips. “Don’t you care what people will think?”

  “Nope.”

  “And what about that little girl?” She pointed in the direction Abby had just gone. “Can you see what you two are doing to her? Confusing her? Leading her to believe you could be her daddy? Letting her mind wander to all kinds of terrible places? No wonder her tummy hurts! It’s emotional abuse!”

  “That’s enough.” My tone was sharp. “Drop it.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry, but if you two don’t have enough sense to see the damage you’re inflicting on Abby, someone needs to show you. Do you really think she isn’t affected by this? Do you think it’s normal for a child to think her uncle can become her daddy? Do you think it’s okay that she feels physical pain because of what you’re doing?”

  “Stop yelling! She’ll hear you. What we’re doing isn’t wrong.”

  She came closer to the table. “I cannot believe,” she fumed quietly, “that you would do such a thing to your brother.”

  “This isn’t about Drew!” Now it was me being loud. I didn’t like raising my voice to my mother, but I was fed up with her.

  “Oh, yes it is! It’s about all of us. It’s about loyalty to your family, Wesley Parks. That’s what matters above all. Loyalty to your family. And if you think for one second that what you’re doing isn’t wrong, or that it affects only you, or that people won’t judge you for doing something so immoral and…and sleazy, then I didn’t raise my son right. How do you think people will feel about coming to a doctor who displays such poor judgment? Did you ever think about that?”

  “It’s not immoral to love someone.”

  She blinked, a shocked expression on her face. “You want to talk about morals? Where is your conscience? Where is your sense of right and wrong? Your brother is turning in his grave. He never would have done this to you.” She burst into tears.

  My father came into the kitchen. “What’s going on? What’s all the yelling?”

  I said nothing, and my mother continued to cry. He went to her, and she turned into his arms, crying on his shoulder while he patted her back. I sat there with my head down, feeling guilty even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  I hadn’t, had I? Why did it seem unclear, all of a sudden? Why was she making me feel like maybe Hannah and I hadn’t thought this all the way through? Were we crazy to think that we could be together without negative consequences? Was she right about patients not trusting me? And the comment about Drew cut deep. Was she right about that too? Would he be against us? Was my conversation with Drew on the beach simply a convenient delusion, a subconscious ploy to excuse my behavior? Wishful thinking, so I could have what I want?

  “Wes?” My dad was looking at me. He was probably thinking about our conversation, the one where I’d promised to give my mother a break. The one where I’d learned how disloyal her father had been and what it had done to her mother and her childhood. It was no wonder she identified with Abby.

  I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m sorry.”

  “What exactly are you sorry for?” My mother turned to me. “Carrying on with your brother’s wife? Betraying his memory? Confusing his child? Disgracing your professional reputation?”

  “Lenore,” my father said. “That’s enough.”

  She grabbed a tissue and turned on him. “You can’t tell me you don’t see what’s going on around here.”

  “I see it.”

  Both of us stared at him. He knew?

  “And it doesn’t bother you?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Wes and Hannah are adults. They can make their own decisions.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. Just fine!” my mother yelled. “Take his side.”

  My father held up his hands. “I’m not taking sides.”

  “Yes, you are!” She shook her head. “I guess I’m the only person in this family who cares about Abby’s well-being and our good name.” Pulling another tissue from the box, she marched out of the kitchen. A moment later, I heard her feet on the stairs.

  My dad came to the table and sat down. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I closed my eyes. “But I just made a really big mess.”

  “Life’s full of messes. They can be cleaned up.”

  “I don’t know. This one is pretty big, Dad.” I rubbed a hand over my jaw and dropped it into my lap. “You knew about me and Hannah?”

  “You didn’t hide it very well, if that’s what you were trying to do. I could see it happening pretty easily.”

  “Do you think it’s wrong?” I held my breath.

  He sighed. “I don’t think it’s wrong, Wes. But I can’t take a side. My marriage hasn’t lasted nearly forty years for nothing.”

  “I get it,” I said grimly.

  “You and your mother are going to have to work this out.”

  I leaned on the table. “Why is she so against this? Why doesn’t she want us to be happy?”

  “Oh, I think she does. In the long run,
Wes, that’s all any parent wants for their child. But it’s hard not to think we know what’s best for them, even when they’re grown.”

  “I love her. How can that be wrong?”

  “Some people will see it that way. Others won’t.”

  “So what should I do?”

  “Give your mother some time. That’s my advice. Let her get used to the idea.”

  “You think she could?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows? But I do think the two of you could both take a little time to see things from each other’s perspective.”

  “Yeah.” I slumped back again. “Maybe. But what if she doesn’t come around? What happens then?”

  “I guess you’ll have to decide what it’s worth to be with Hannah. And Wes…” He waited until I looked him in the eye. “It could be worth everything.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He got up from the table and went back to his Sunday paper in the other room, and I sat there feeling miserable and guilty. I knew he’d essentially just told me that he wouldn’t blame me if I chose Hannah over my mother, even if it tore my family apart, but I still felt like shit. It would be like my mother had lost both sons. Depending on how Hannah felt, it might mean they couldn’t see Abby anymore. And speaking of Hannah, I needed to break the news to her that my parents knew about us, and my mother, as expected, wasn’t happy about it, to say the least.

  Fuck. I rubbed my face with both hands.

  How had this day, which had started so brilliantly, gone so horribly wrong?

  I went up to my room, shut the door, and lay back on my bed. With my hands behind my head, I stared at the ceiling and tried to do what my father had said—consider things from my mother’s perspective. But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, it all came down to one thing—we made each other happy. Why should we have to care what anyone else thought?

  How could love be wrong?

  After a while, I heard my phone buzzing on my dresser, so I got up and grabbed it. It was Pete.

  “Hey,” I said. “Thanks for getting back to me.”

  “No problem. What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Whoa. Sounds serious.”

  “It kinda is.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. At least physically.”

  He laughed. “You need some mental help?”

  “I think I might.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. Because I’m making chili today, and I’m offering a free counseling session with every bowl. Want to come over this afternoon? About four?”

  I looked at my watch. It was almost eleven now. I needed to talk to Hannah after she was done working, preferably before she showed up here to get Abby. But I could get to Pete’s by four. “Sounds good. See you then. And thanks.”

  We hung up and I called Hannah.

  “Hello?”

  My insides warmed at the sound of her voice. “Hey.”

  “How are you? Everything okay there?”

  “Yes and no.” Damn, this was going to suck.

  “What’s wrong? Is Abby okay?”

  Great, now I was making her panic. “Abby is fine,” I said, which actually wasn’t true. I knew her stomachache wasn’t stemming from a physical issue, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. “Mostly.”

  “Mostly? You’re scaring me, Wes.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was fucking this up already. “She’s fine. When do you think you’ll be done with work?”

  “I’m about done. I can leave now and come get her. Can I talk to her?”

  “Wait—don’t come here yet. I want to talk to you first.”

  “No. I want to talk to Abby. Put her on.”

  “Hannah, please.”

  “Put. Her. On.”

  “Okay, okay. One second.” Groaning inwardly, I left my room and went into the hall. “Abby?” I called out.

  “I’m in my room,” she called back.

  I went down the hall to the guest room that my mother had furnished for Abby. The door was open halfway, and I could see her lying on her bed. “Your mom wants to talk to you.”

  She sat up, and I could see that she’d been crying. My chest felt painfully tight as I handed her the phone and listened to her end of the conversation.

  “Hello? Yes. Just lying in my bed. I had a tummy ache so Nana said to lie down. It’s still there. Can you come get me? Okay.” She handed the phone back to me.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “I’m coming to get her.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. “Okay.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but she doesn’t sound right. She said she has a stomachache. Can you take a look at her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” She sounded stressed, and I didn’t blame her. It wasn’t going to get any better when she got here, either.

  Suddenly I had an idea—I’d go to the inn and talk to her before she left. Explain to her what had happened and tell her not to panic. Things would be okay. I’d fix them.

  Somehow.

  “How’s that tummy?” I asked Abby, whose lower lip was sticking out. She has Hannah’s mouth.

  “It hurts.” She cradled her belly.

  “Where?”

  She shrugged. “Everywhere.”

  “Hmmm. What do you think would make it better?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked up at me. “I heard Nana yelling at you. It made me sad.”

  Just when I thought I couldn’t feel worse. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Why is she mad at you?”

  I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Is it because of me?”

  “Oh, Abby, no.” I sat down next to her and took her hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? No one is upset with you.”

  “Abby?” My mother entered her room. When she saw me in there, her shoulders snapped back. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I said, feeling guilty about her puffy eyes and red nose despite being angry with her. “I was just checking on her. Hannah will be here soon to pick her up.”

  At the mention of Hannah, my mother’s mouth became a thin line. “Fine. Abby, darling, would you like Nana to read you a story?”

  “Okay.”

  I stood up. “I have to run out for a while.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t even look at me.

  Moving quickly, I took the stairs down two at a time, grabbed my keys, and hustled out the back door. On the drive to the inn, I tried to think of a bright side in all this that I could present to Hannah. Something hopeful to offer. Something that would make her feel like I could deliver on all the promises I’d made.

  But I came up with nothing.

  And by the time I pulled into the lot next to the inn, Hannah was already coming out the door, rushing through the rain toward her car.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. Rolling down the passenger window, I pulled up alongside her. “Hannah!”

  She stopped running and squinted at me. “Wes?”

  “Get in!” I leaned over and pushed the door open, and she jumped in.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as I rolled up the window. I could hear the panic in her voice.

  I parked next to her. “I needed to talk to you.”

  “About what? What’s going on?”

  Shifting in my seat, I faced her and spoke calmly, even though I didn’t feel calm inside at all. “First, I don’t want you to panic. Everything is fine.”

  “Then what are you doing here? And why does Abby have a stomachache?”

  “My parents know about us.” Rain hammered the roof and windshield.

  “What? How?”

  “A combination of things. My dad said he could see it happening. My mom probably suspected, but Abby sort of confirmed it.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Abby?”

  “She said we hold hands and kiss.”

&
nbsp; She gasped. “She’s seen us?”

  “Apparently. I guess we’re not as careful as we think.”

  “Oh my God.” She clutched her stomach, just like Abby had done. Her eyes closed. “I knew it. I knew something bad was going to happen. I could feel it. What did they say?”

  I exhaled. There was no use in sugarcoating this. “My mother is very upset.”

  “Of course she is. And your dad?”

  “Privately, my dad told me he doesn’t think it’s wrong. But he also said he can’t side with me against my mother. He’s sort of staying neutral, I guess.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “Tell me everything that happened.”

  I filled her in on the entire breakfast table conversation, watching her grow more and more dismayed, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered when I told her that Abby had heard my mother yelling at me. “The poor thing is probably totally traumatized.”

  “It was pretty rough for her,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck.

  She shook her head, tears dripping down her cheeks. “I’m a terrible mother. This is all my fault.”

  “Hannah, stop.” I reached over and took her hand. “I’m the one who stayed silent while my mother poisoned Abby’s mind. I should have spoken up.”

  “And said what?” She pulled her hand away. “What could you have said that would make your mother see this any other way?”

  “I don’t know,” I said miserably. “Something.”

  “The truth is, your mother has always had something against me, and she was never going to be okay with us. She was barely okay with me and Drew!”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true! And now my daughter is hurting because she feels like she wanted something bad, or because she thinks she’ll never have a family, or because she thinks she’s not loved enough.” She sobbed openly. “And she thinks you and I can never love each other because it’s wrong, so if we do stay together, she’ll be even more confused, and your mother will continue to fill her head with garbage, and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”

  She said if.

  I took her hand again and held on tighter. “Hannah, things will be okay. We’ll get through this.”

  She looked at me like I was nuts. “How? What can either of us do? The circumstances are totally beyond our control, Wes. We can’t go back and do things differently. We can’t change the past or who we are. And we can’t change her mind.”