“So, Owen tells me you went to visit your father,” Samm begins, making me pause and listen in. I realize eavesdropping is impolite, but I’m curious to see how her talk with Alan went. She seemed in good spirits when she arrived home, so that’s got to be a good omen, right?
“I did,” she says, and I sense a nervous lilt to her tone.
“And?” Samm continues to prod. “How is he?”
“He’s…um…” Amelia clears her throat. “He’s okay.”
“Okay.” There’s a longer than normal pause, and just as I’m about to intervene, Samm carries on. “How okay is okay, Amy?”
Amelia releases a loud sigh, and when I look over, I see her sitting forward, her elbows on her knees and her hands buried in her hair. “Before I answer that, I think there’s something you should know.”
Ignoring the task at hand, I move away from the table and into the space between the living room and dining room, watching a little more closely as Amelia raises her eyes to her mother’s. Smiling, Samm leans forward, placing her hand over Amelia’s fidgeting ones. “Sweetie, I know.”
“Y-you know?” Amelia repeats, her eyelids fluttering as she shifts her gaze to mine.
Before she can get more information from either of us, I nod toward the dining room. “Why don’t we talk about it over dinner, sweetheart?”
26. Talk to Me
Confused and at a loss for words, I stare at my full dinner plate. Owen’s really gone to a lot of trouble to prepare this meal, and I feel awful that my appetite seems to have withered and died. I’m not the only one not eating, however; both Owen and my mom sit around the table with full plates and empty forks, watching me expectantly.
She knows. This one thought repeats over and over in my head. I know I should just ask how she knows, but I’m terrified. Why? I’m not too sure. Could be that I’m afraid she’ll react how Dad did when he found out… Of course, this seems unlikely the more I consider it, especially since she doesn’t appear upset in the least. She seems at ease and, dare I say it, happy for me.
But why?
I decide I need to know now, so, with a sigh, I meet my mother’s intense stare and start talking. “So, you know.” She nods. “H-how did you find out?” I glance over at Owen, maybe looking for some sign of guilt. Had he told her? If so, what prompted him to do this without me? I don’t think I’m mad—shocked, sure, but not mad. I would have liked to have been here for this conversation. I’m pretty sure I deserved at least that.
“Your father called me.”
Huh? Somehow, this doesn’t make any sense. It’s only been a couple of days since he found out, and only a few hours since I actually got to talk to him. He never mentioned talking to Mom while I was in town, and timeline-wise, there’s no way he called her after we talked and had her fly out here in time.
“When?” I croak, my throat suddenly dry. I grab my water and take a sip, hoping it’ll help, but it doesn’t.
“New Year’s Day,” she replies softly, and I mentally stumble.
“What? He didn’t mention calling you… How is that even possible?” My palms begin to sweat, and my skin warms as I shoot my eyes back Owen’s way.
“He sounded loaded,” Mom explains, reaching over and gripping my sweaty hand in her cool one. “My guess is he likely doesn’t remember the call.” She pauses, smiling, and her eyebrows knit together with concern. “Amy, honey, I came here because I was worried. I needed to know if the things he said were true—what sense I could make of it all, that is. I honestly thought I’d misunderstood the entire thing. All I knew was that he sounded distraught, and I figured I should make sure he was all right.”
“I confirmed her suspicions when she arrived,” Owen confesses. “I wasn’t going to lie to her or keep the truth from her. It’s only gotten us into trouble thus far.”
Relived that he didn’t go to her without my knowledge, my posture softens, and I relax into my chair; I hadn’t even realized I was sitting so stiffly. “I see.” My eyes flit between the two of them again. “And you’re not mad?”
Her laugh is all the assurance I need, but she’s sure to offer me more. “Of course not, Amy. As I told Owen earlier, I’m the last person who can judge a relationship with a substantial age gap. I’m not a hypocrite, and I won’t hold you to some ridiculous double standard.”
I laugh humorlessly. “Well, at least I’ve got one parent who’s against double standards.”