Hell, he’d been known to eat cold pizza for breakfast after a bender.
“You want some?” he asked when there was only one piece of toast left on the plate.
Sarah shook her head. “No, you have it. This muesli really fills me up.”
Abe had given up all hope of getting an answer to his earlier question when she said, “My mom was seventeen when she had me.” A voice so quiet it was almost soundless. “My father was her high school boyfriend.”
Abe rose, topped off his coffee, poured Sarah some more tea from her little pot.
“Predictably,” she said after taking a sip, “they didn’t last long. The two of them crashed and burned eight months after I was born.” Her eyes turned faraway, her focus distant.
“My father wasn’t a deadbeat though. He got an apprentice position at an auto shop, helped my mom with money for food and rent after her parents kicked her out. He even took shifts with me so she could go out with her friends.” She took a deep breath. “Then he died in a car accident when I was three, and that was it.”
It sounded so final, as if with her father had gone all hope. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “It must’ve been tough, not having your dad there as you grew up.”
“I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve been like if he hadn’t been in that crash. Everything I know about him says he was the more stable of my parents.”
Another pause to take a sip of tea, another shaky breath. “After my father died, my paternal grandmother helped babysit me, but she was too infirm to take me full time. She passed away when I was about nine.” Her fingers squeezed at her mug, her throat moving as she swallowed convulsively. “I loved her. She was so kind to me. I think she was the only person other than my dad who really loved me.”
Abe frowned. “What about your mom? Given that they kicked out their own kid, I’m guessing your maternal grandparents won’t win any ‘Parent of the Year’ awards.”
Lips pursed tight, Sarah nodded. “They were religious—and not the kind of religious anchored in compassion and helping the less fortunate. No, they were the kind of religious that makes a person cold and unforgiving. According to them, my mother had brought shame on the family by having a child out of wedlock and they didn’t want anything to do with her. I’ve never met them.”
Abe felt his hand fist under the table, his jaw a brutal line. “Yeah well, you probably didn’t miss out on much.” He cuddled her closer.
She came, putting her mug on the table and placing one of her hands on his thigh. “They called me the ‘spawn of shame.’ My mom let it slip once when she was drunk.”
Abe wanted to strangle the older couple. “So, your mom drank?”
“Just the odd weekend bender. Her drug of choice was men, and they were the only thing about which she cared. I basically raised myself after my grandma passed away.” She blinked really fast, as if fighting off tears. “My mother blamed me for all her lost dreams and opportunities.”
Abe felt his jaw lock at the pain inherent in that last statement, knew he shouldn’t interrupt, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You had no choice in being born. And being a young single mom doesn’t mean the end of everything.”
“I know,” Sarah said softly. “I didn’t for a long time, but then I met my best friend, Lola. She was a teenage mom too, and though her folks didn’t kick her out, they were dirt-poor and working all the hours of the day themselves, couldn’t really offer her much help. She raised her son with sheer grit and determination, and he adores her.”
“I think I’ll like Lola.”
A trembling smile. “I know you will—but she’s probably going to want to deck you.”
Sucking in a breath, Abe winced. “I can take it.” Lola had been there for Sarah when she needed a friend—Abe would give the woman any leeway she wanted. “So, your mom never settled into a stable life.”
Sarah shook her head. “We had a rotating front door—one man after another, all of whom were going to be ‘different,’ going to be ‘the best.’ All of whom were knights in shining armor and so what if they didn’t like her ‘brat.’ It wasn’t like she liked the brat either. Just a whiny mouth to feed, no good for anything, useless.”
Fury roared through Abe’s veins. He wished he could go back, change the past, but he couldn’t. All he could do was hold Sarah, love her.
Shadows across her face, even darker and more vicious. “She always chose violent men. My father was her single good decision.” Her hand rose to her cheek, to the spot where Jeremy Vance had hit her.