If only she knew what had happened this morning.
“Aw, thanks, Mum.” My eyes bulge, and as quick as I can, I rush out, “Mary. God, what the fuck was that? Mary. Mary.”
Mum takes my hand and pins it to the table under hers. “Do you know how I said when I was ready I’d explain things?”
I nod.
“Seeing you happy with Nate makes me happy after all these years. I’ve stuffed up massively, but one of the biggest was the way I handled looking after you. Part of it just got too much for me.
“I met your biological father one night at a party, and we went too far. I realised I was drunk and didn’t want to do anything more so I tried to stop, but he was so drunk he didn’t realise I was pushing away. My words were slurred, unrecognisable, my limbs like jelly. I probably looked like I was play-fighting him.
“So, being the coward I was, I just lay there and cried silently and hoped it would be over. I was so young and not ready to be a parent. That’s why I taught you to call me Mary. I love you so much; always have. That mistake turned out to be one of the three joys in my life.
“But it doesn’t matter what you call me. I am starting to show how I appreciate the people who love me, and I’ll always love you, Kalli. Always.”
She leans over the table and kisses my forehead. “Don’t waste Nate. I wish I had someone like him when I was a teenager, to help me love you the way I should have.”
And with that bombshell, she takes her remaining coffee and leaves.
27
Scout and I layer up our coats and head outside. It’s cold but not freezing, so it’s okay for a little walk since I haven’t been able to keep still all day long. All day long with Nate away and my unsaid words driving me insane, and a jealous monster in me wondering how many semi-naked or fully naked women he could see today. I’m sure he’s taking pleasure in his job. Old Kalli would have teased him and loved seeing his reaction, but this Kalli wants to draw a sheet between his eyes and the set and tell him to blindly hold up the camera, snap and hope for the best.
My other distraction is no better. I’ve found out who my father really was. He’s still a random, like I’ve always known, but that extra information makes me hurt for my mum.
Needing the distraction, Scout and I head to a local park. There’s a wide gravel path that cuts through the middle and disappears at the end. Trees overhang from both sides, almost meeting above, and there are wide spaces between the trunks for the crazy children to run through.
Being a Saturday it’s littered with kids and families, couples splayed over a blanket and rolled on top of each other, feathering kisses to one another.
Stuff like that.
I notice all that romancey stuff now, and instead of rolling my eyes, a feeling pinches in my gut, reminding me of my relationship status with Nate.
“So tell me,” Scout says.
We start talking about last night’s happenings for both of us and swear not to say anything to Steph or Nate about the other, although that’s a given facet of bestie trust.
“It went from that good to fucked. Clearly, I’m not into Donovan. Nate should have given me the chance to explain.” I have to shake my head to bring my mind back to here, to us walking down the long path. “He should trust me!”
“Naturally being in the position I am I don’t want to pick sides, but you both have points here.”
“He does? Have a real case to be mad?”
“I don’t think he’s mad, Kalli. You told me you’ve said you’re sorry, but I bet Donovan doesn’t directly come up in conversation between you much otherwise.”
I shake my head, no.
“What happened was a mistake, but it’s still a big kick to his confidence with you, in himself as a guy. It’s blatantly obvious Nate’s been pining over you for ages. I just think that shit at the party with you and Donovan cut him so deep he worries over nothing these days still. And—Kalli, I say this as your loving best friend—I can see his point. We know you’ve changed, but ways-of-life are hard to break, and he’s probably so used to you being impulsive and confident. In the shock he just froze up and instead worried about your motives for hiding your relationship.”
“You know,” I start, pausing to watch the path pass under our feet as we stroll through the park, oblivious to other people, “I think we’re a dream sometimes. I have this nagging sense this is too good, and it has to be a dream.”
“The only thing dreamy about this is the way you two look at each other.”
“I could say the same for you, Scouty,” I say, teasing.