She also knows my mother is capable of many shitty things. Presley was on the receiving end of it once, and my brother put a stop to it. On Presley’s wedding day my mother made one hell of a scene about where her seat was placed. She called Presley names, threw a king-size fit, and Todd practically threw her out. My father smoothed it over, but it ended with me trying to fix Presley’s makeup after she burst into tears.
“You know that her opinion doesn’t matter, right?”
And there you have it. She knows exactly what I worry about. “I do.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She shifts in her seat. “I’ve known you for . . . well, ever. I’ve gotten to see some of your family’s interactions. Things that neither Todd nor I ever understood. But there was a reason we stayed in Philly instead of going to Florida like your parents begged us to. We didn’t want the kids around your mom’s constant criticism or your brother’s bullshit. Todd never saw you that way, Ang.”
When she talks about Todd like this, I start to ache. “Todd was never like them,” I say with emotion dripping from each word. He was so much more.
He was more of a protector than my father was. Todd always made sure that he took the brunt of Josh’s crap when all three of us were together. Then he left this world without so much as a goodbye.
And I let him.
It’s not like I knew he was in trouble, but I should’ve. I was his sister, and we were close. I should’ve known something was wrong, but I was oblivious. I hate myself for it.
“No.” She takes my hand. “He wasn’t. He loved you so much. He saw you as his perfect little sister. You weren’t just my reason for wanting to stay in Pennsylvania. You were his, too. You’ve spent your life pushing people away because of what your mother did. Todd and I were the only people you let in. He cherished that, Ang. He was always worried about you. There were so many nights that he would talk about you needing someone to be there for you. I wish he could see you now.”
Presley may hide the pain of Todd’s suicide well, and she puts up a really good front. I admire her for that, but there’s a lot of hurt that we both carry, but she can’t hide it from me. “Todd did a lot of damage to us, though.”
She leans back in her chair, looks out the window, and then turns back to me. “Yeah. He really did.” Presley and the boys have struggled, but with Zach, her family, and Wyatt . . . they’ve been okay. “But we have choices, babe. We can sit around and feel sorry for ourselves or we can rise up. I didn’t want to lose my house, my job, my business, and my life, but I did. I came here, sucked it up, worked my ass off, and by some grace of God, I found my way back to Zach. It was a gift, and maybe Todd is up there giving you one too.”
Tears form in her eyes but she holds them back. I know how much she loved my brother. I also know that since she came back to Bell Buckle, we’ve barely spoken about him. A few times of course regarding the kids, but not about what she and I went through. I’m not sure why that is, but we skate around the surface.
However, the last thing my brother would ever want is me pregnant with a cowboy from Tennessee’s baby. He hated this place. And I’m pretty sure he hated the Hennington family. Well, one of them at least.
The thought of him behind this at all is hilarious. And somewhat gross.
“You think Todd’s gift to me is a baby?” I try to hold back the laugh, but it tumbles from my lips.
“No!” She giggles, clearly following where I’m going with this. “I think his gift is for you to no longer be alone.”
“The baby?”
She shakes her head and looks at me like I’m being dense. “No, babe. Wyatt.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Although I’m surprised it would come in the form of your soon-to-be brother-in-law.”
Presley practically shoots coffee out of her nose as she laughs. “I can’t imagine he’s happy about that. I have to believe he’s doing what he can to make sure we’re all taken care of, even though he’s not here anymore.”
“Do you miss him?”
She places her cup down and draws her bottom lip in. “I miss a lot of things.”
I give her a few seconds as she seems to weigh her words.
“I miss the happy times. I miss the way he would look at me.” Presley’s eyes move back to mine, and I see the tears there. “He looked at me as if I were the reason he existed. That’s not something I’ll ever forget. To be loved by him was really all-encompassing. But I’m angry. I’m angry that a man could look at me like that and chose to leave. I’m livid that he took that love from me and left me with a mess. It makes me believe that all I had was a lie—a big, horrible lie. And sometimes the anger is so great that I can’t see anything else. It’s been two years, and there are nights when I close my eyes and can still see him there motionless as I beg for him to come back to life. I will never forget that either. It’s a really hard thing to be tied up in two such conflicting emotions.”