“I’m a mess,” he said quietly to her.
“I don’t care,” she responded. A second later, his arm, sans glove, wrapped itself around her waist. Together, they watched the new mom and baby get to know one another as Trudy and her own daughter talked affectionately to both animals.
Still in a state of wonder over an hour later, Matty gazed out at the horses in the fields as they drove away from the thoroughbred farm. Dash had wanted to stay and keep an eye on Never for a while and Matty hadn’t objected to hanging around to watch the new baby on its first day in this world. Eventually, they’d washed and cleaned up as best they could, Dash had given some final instructions to Trudy and Mara, and they’d climbed into his truck and pulled away.
“That was amazing, Dash. Thanks for inviting me,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad the outcome was a good one.”
“You and me, both,” she murmured. They rode in quiet for several minutes as she let the emotions of the day sink in. It had been a roller coaster but now, having seen what she’d just seen and watched Dash do what he’d just done, she felt stronger than she had even just a few hours earlier.
“You’re right, Dash, it’s not an issue of trust,” she said. From the corner of her eye, she saw his head swivel to look at her but she kept her eyes focused out her window. What she was going to tell him wasn’t pretty and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she spoke.
“You know I grew up in the Bronx, in the projects, but you don’t know all of it. It’s not something I talk about often, and never before with someone who wasn’t also there, because it’s hard to describe what it was like.”
He reached over and covered her hand with his, but said nothing.
“I was four when I was caught in my first armed robbery. My mom and I had stopped to get some milk on our way home from the park one day. Someone came in, shot and killed the shopkeeper and a customer. There were four other people in the store, we all huddled in the corner, praying not to be noticed.”
She remembered that day vividly, even though she’d been so young. But that wasn’t the worst of it. “I was six when I saw my first drive-by shooting. It killed a little boy I was playing with. And then, at school, it just seemed best not to have any real friends—or feel anything for anyone, for that matter.”
She took a deep breath and tried her best to describe what it was really like for her, something she’d never done, not even in the privacy of her own mind. “You see, where I grew up, it wasn’t just emotions like fear that people exploited, but emotions of any kind. They were used as weapons against you. God forbid you were happy about something, because if you showed it, it was inevitable that someone would come and smack the smile off your face. And if you and your friends were having too much fun, someone would come along and pick a fight, pull a gun or a knife, do whatever it took to stop the joy.
“Everyone was so beaten down—by society, by their families, by themselves—that any kind of emotion at all almost served as a reminder of the humanity we’d all lost. I still remember my mom telling me, when we were huddling in that convenience store, not to show any fear, not to give them any reason to notice me.”
Matty paused to run a hand through her hair and noticed she was shaking. It seemed that, even after all these years, that place still had a hold on her.
“And so we learned not to show any emotion in order to survive, in order to protect ourselves and our families and the few friends we allowed ourselves to have. But after a while, at least I think for me, not being able to show any emotions got easier, because I just stopped having them. I loved my mother and in our home it was different—and it was different when I was with Charlotte and her mom, too—but everywhere else? Everywhere else in the real world, well, that was another story.”
The gentle hills and delicate summer flowers she saw through her window as they traveled the country roads were at such odds with what she was telling Dash. But still, she continued. “I remember, when I was eleven, just before my grandmother found us, a family moved in above us. I never saw them but knew they had a little girl. You know how I knew?” she asked but then answered before Dash could say anything. “Through the vent in my room, I heard her brother rape her almost every night before he went out to sell his drugs. She was the same age as I was,” she said with a choked cry.
For the first time in many, many years, Matty felt a tear fall down her cheek. She closed her eyes and waited for Dash’s judgment; he did nothing but hold her hand. She took several deep breaths, opened her eyes, and then continued. She wasn’t done yet.
“Because of my experiences growing up, I’m not much of a sharer, especially when I’ve felt uncertain about things. It was always safer that way—not exposing my vulnerabilities, keeping things to myself. I’ve been using my past to justify not telling you anything, and then, when you pushed, I used it as an excuse for my actions.
“But the truth of the matter is that I think I’m backing away from you not because I don’t trust you, but because I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you what you want, what you deserve. I don’t know if I know how to really love someone or how to really feel much of anything beyond a surface emotion. That ability should be fostered in kids; it should be tended to and grown. But we didn’t have that luxury if we wanted to survive. And now I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, or if I can even learn how. You make me want to ask the question, Dash, but I’m terrified of the answer. What if I can’t?”
They were pulling up in front of Brad’s house. Dash shut the engine off and didn’t say anything. When he let go of her hand and got out of his truck, she wanted to crawl away and curl up in a tiny, dirty pit. But then he came around to her side of the truck, opened the door, and held out his hand. She took it, sliding from her seat. In silence, he used her key to unlock the kitchen door and then he led her upstairs to the bathroom.
Not letting go of her hand, Dash turned the shower on, then faced her. Without a word, he undressed her first, then stripped himself down before leading her under the cool spray. He ran his fingers through her hair, tilted her head up and forced her to look into his eyes.
“You may not know the answer to the question, Matty, but I do.” And with that, he bent his head down and kissed her.
CHAPTER 13
DASH LAY STARING AT THE CEILING, his arm wrapped around Matty. It had been an intense several hours, between the birth of the foal and her revelation about her childhood and the effects, or one of the effects, it had on her. When he’d pushed her the day before, he hadn’t actually been sure of what was holding her back. He thought it might have been pride or maybe just a fear of getting too close to someone too fast. He should have known it was something deeper than that. For all her fears about her ability to learn and grow, she wasn’t one to just sit back and let things happen to her. She would have told him to back off if that was what she’d really wanted.
But she was right about one thing, her childhood and the things she had experienced weren’t anything he would ever be able to completely understand. He could empathize and he could support her, but those experiences she’d shared with him—and he suspected they were only a few of what she’d lived through—were so far out of the realm of his childhood reality. Intellectually, he knew things like that happened, but he had never met anyone who had lived through them, or at least talked about living through them.
“Tell me about your grandmother,” he asked now, rubbing his hand down her bare arm. It had gotten dark and neither seemed inclined to rise from the bed to eat, so they stayed there in a contented quiet. He could feel her smile against his chest.
“She was an amazing woman. You know about the letter my mom wrote and how Gran found it. But I still remember her riding into the Bronx in her chauffeured car with “assistants” to help us move out of our apartment and into her home with her. And then, of course, you know she also took in Charlotte and Nanette, Charlotte’s mom, too.”
“It sounds great
, but I can’t imagine it was easy,” he said.
She shook her head against him. “It wasn’t, it was really hard. For me, at least. My grandmother was very, very wealthy, and the house she moved us into, her home, was as big as the entire apartment building we’d left. We had a garden and a pool, but of course, I didn’t know how to swim. We had people to clean and garden and cook. All the things my mom had been hired to do for other people were now being done for her. It felt unreal for a long time and it took ages for me to believe it wasn’t all going to disappear one day—taken away from me as quickly as it had come.
“Luckily, though, I think my grandmother knew that, and the first year we all stuck pretty close to home so that I could begin to grow some roots. She hired the best medical care for my mom. And she wanted us to go to good schools, but that would mean being in class with kids who had grown up so differently than we had. So she hired tutors and social workers for Charlotte and me to be sure we were ready, academically and emotionally, before we went. By the time we did enter school, both of us were much better adjusted than we would have been if we’d just been thrown in and we both did quite well, especially Charlotte, who has a scary way with numbers and people.”
“And you grew close to her, didn’t you, your grandmother?” Dash asked.
“Yes,” Matty said on a sigh and he could tell from her voice just how much respect and affection she held for her grandmother. “It took a little while, but, over time, we grew very close. Completely different beginnings, but we were more alike than not. We had many of the same mannerisms and ways of talking or thinking about things. As I got older, we also enjoyed the same kinds of theater and books and movies. My mom, once she was healthy, delved into the world of art and has spent years volunteering with various museums and sitting on boards and all that. But Grandma and I, while we liked art, also enjoyed a good slapstick comedy or blockbuster action flick.”
“And what of her son, your father?”
Matty rolled up onto an elbow and met his gaze as she answered. “It was sad, really. She didn’t talk about it much, but I always got the sense she was disappointed in him. Not just because of what he did to my mom and me, but more like that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was clear she loved him, but it was also clear that she didn’t really understand him. And he made no effort to understand her. I suspect it had a lot to do with his wife, Sandra, but I’m not sure.”
“And Brad?”
“Brad was an enigma to me. I knew I had a half brother, but he wasn’t a part of my life. Again, I think Sandra refused to allow him near me, so as a result, he never really got to spend time with his grandmother, which was also sad. And then there was the disposition of my grandmother’s estate, and I think, after that, there was no way Sandra was going to let Brad or my father have anything to do with me.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning she left most of what she had to me. There was a substantial trust for both my father and Brad and a few family heirlooms that went to one or the other of them, but the bulk of her estate, including the house in DC, went to me.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “So, does that mean you’re a wealthy woman?”
A sly smile touched her lips. “Yes, very.”
“How very?”
“Very very.”
“So if this family tradition of mine works out, I could be a kept man?”
She laughed and he reveled in the sound of it, in the feel of it against his bare chest. “Yes, you could, as could any children we have, and, if we’re smart about it, our grandchildren and great-grandchildren, too.”
He grinned, “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” The information that Matty was as wealthy as she was came as a complete surprise. If he allowed himself to think about it, it might be a bit intimidating and so, for now, he opted not to think about it at all, deciding to focus on her and what was happening between them instead.
“I can think of a few better reasons you might like me,” she said, sliding up over him with another smile and dropping kisses down his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her, flipped her over, and pinned her underneath him. “I can think of more than a few,” he said and then proceeded to show her at least three or four.
***
The early morning light was seeping through the windows in the bedroom as Dash stood at the foot of the bed and watched her sleep. He needed to get home, shower, and change before going to work. He wanted to stay with her, but that wasn’t an option; he had clients that were expecting him. At least his last client was at one o’clock today, so, pending any emergencies, he and Matty could spend the afternoon together—maybe go his place, take a dip in the pond, and just have a lazy summer day. The thought of them just being at his house brought a smile to his lips.
“You’re leaving and you’re smiling, I’m not sure how to take that,” Matty’s voice, heavy with sleep, drifted up from the bed.
Dash chuckled and walked to her side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushed some hair from her face. “I was just thinking about this afternoon,” he answered and then told her of his suggested plan.
She stretched then rolled toward him, closing her eyes. “Sounds like a plan. My car is still at your clinic so at some point I’ll need to get it. But in the meantime, I’m going to go back to sleep. You kept me up last night.”
“You weren’t complaining,” he pointed out.
The corners of her mouth tilted up, her eyes still closed. “No, I wasn’t.”
He smiled and bent down to give her a kiss good-bye. “Rest well, I’ll call you around one.” He stood to leave but she caught his hand.
“Dash?” she said, still not opening her eyes.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
He looked down at her and knew she wasn’t thanking him for the physical parts of the night before but for letting her have her space, for letting her regain her footing after sharing some of herself with him, for not pushing her further into that place.
“You’re welcome. Now sleep.”
She brought his hand to her lips, kissed his palm, then released him. He stood still for a moment, listening to her even breathing, then turned away.
***
Matty rounded the house with a basket of eggs in hand and reminded herself, one more time, to ask Dash about that pancake breakfast. She had a way with eggs, but even so, she had way more than she knew what to do with.
She put the basket down on the little patio table so she could open the door, but two of the dogs caught her attention before her hand reached the door handle. Lucy, in her very Lucy way, was bounding down the hill behind the house—half leaping, occasionally spinning, and constantly barking. Her ears flew up like little wings each time she took a gigantic leap and, for a moment, Matty wondered if her little body was going to be able to stop the momentum when she reached the bottom of the hill. Behind her, at a casual lope, was Rufus, his huge stride covering about ten of Lucy’s.
It was such a comical site that she watched as they made their way all the way down the hill to the driveway. Expecting them to stop at the door and wait to be let in, she was surprised when Lucy came to a halt in front of her and promptly dropped onto her belly, her paws in front of her and her eyes looking up at her temporary master. Matty frowned; she’d seen all sorts of crazy behavior from Lucy, but this was new. This didn’t look like the playful, goofy Lucy she was used to; the wiry mutt actually looked like she was trying to tell her something.
For a moment, Matty studied the dog but couldn’t for the life of her figure out what she might be trying to say, so she opened the door, picked up the eggs, and made her way into the kitchen. Then Lucy whined. Actually whined. And inched forward a few steps on her belly.
She looked at the dog again, and Lucy looked back at her. “Just a minute, Lucy,” she said. “I’ll be right back,” she added. It didn’t escape her attention that she was talking to a dog as if she might understand. But she had to wonde
r, given the way Lucy brought her head up but didn’t move her body while she watched Matty put the eggs in the house, as if she were waiting for her to keep her word and come back, if maybe Lucy did understand.
“Okay, Lucy, what’s going on?” Matty said when she’d stepped back onto the patio. Lucy whined again. Matty glanced at Rufus who was sitting quietly in the shade watching them both.
“Lucy, go,” Matty said pointing to the hill. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen, but Lucy seemed to take it as a command, or maybe permission, and she leapt to her feet and bolted toward the hill. She’d made it about five feet up when she stopped, turned, and looked back at Matty, as if to say “Well? Are you coming?”
Matty looked at Rufus, who didn’t seem to have anything to say on the matter, shrugged, and followed the little dog. As soon as she set foot on the hill, Lucy seemed to undergo a transformation that, in all honesty, Matty found a bit disconcerting. The normally happy-go-lucky dog was all business. Her nose was down and she didn’t bound or spin once, though every few strides or so she turned to make sure Matty was still behind her.
Not knowing what to make of the situation, she followed Lucy for about ten minutes. They walked up to the top of the hill, which leveled out onto a gently rolling field. In the distance, Matty could see other farms and fields and smell the fresh cut grass. She paused and took in the scene. For a moment, she felt like she should be riding horseback with a pack of hounds through the countryside, maybe sidesaddle with a duke or an earl at her side. If it weren’t for the distant sound of a plane, she could be in nineteenth-century England.
Then Lucy yipped, not her usual high-pitched little-dog yip, but something deeper, and strange as it felt to Matty, something that sounded more businesslike. Focusing her attention back on the dog who had gotten ahead of her, she marched forward, wondering if this property was even Brad’s. But she didn’t have too much time to think about it as she followed Lucy around a small copse of trees and a barn came into view.
These Sorrows We See Page 18
