Page 61 of Sticks and Stones
She rolled up her napkin and tossed it in the empty cup holder before jumping out of the truck and running up the flagstone path before he could reach her. The sun was setting, but it was still light enough for her to inspect the overgrown flowerbeds.
“Oh, you’ve got a great assortment of perennials here,” she said, looking pleased. “You’ll have colors all season, I think.” She bit her lip in deep concentration as she studied the foliage. “It looks like bleeding heart and peonies.” She moved a little farther down the path. “Mmm, goldenrod and day lilies. Oh, and evening primrose,” she said, inhaling deeply. “I love that!”
He knelt down beside her, watching her. Her features were stunning as the sun dipped lower, casting a shadow over her. “I love seeing you like this.”
“Like what?” she asked, looking self-conscious. “On my knees?”
He chuckled as he hauled her to her feet. “Well, that too. But I was talking about being passionate about something.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, I’m usually feeling pretty passionate when I’m on my knees.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re one of the only people who can make me laugh like that.” It felt so good, so liberating, after so many months of stress and indecision.
“And I love making you laugh,” she said, her voice soft. “I want to make you happy, Gunnar. I’ve always wanted that.”
Her sombre expression stunned him. She went from playful one minute to reflective the next, which told him he wasn’t the only one having a hard time letting go of the past.
“Honey, I wasn’t capable of being happy before, and that had nothing to do with you. The reason I couldn’t be happy was because I was holding on to the past. The hurt and the pain and the fear.”
“That’s understandable,” she said, swallowing. “We all get caught up in our past from time to time… find it difficult to move on.”
“But that’s what this is about for me,” he said, setting his finger beneath her chin to raise her head. “Being here with you and our kids. Buying this little place. Taking time off to just figure things out. It’s about letting go of the past and figuring out what makes me happy.”
“Um, Gunnar…” Her voice trailed off and he could tell she was facing an internal battle. “I’m not sure I have any right to say this. Lord knows I have no idea what you went through or how it affected you…”
“Go on.” He wanted her to feel comfortable enough to say anything to him, anytime, without fear of reprisal. “I want to hear what you have to say, Gi.”
“I think maybe…” She sucked in a breath and blurted, “You should think about forgiving your mother.”
He stared at her until the silence started to feel heavy and oppressive. As soon as he turned away, needing a moment to collect himself, she touched his back and whispered, “I’m sorry. I had no right to—”
“You have every right.” He curled his hand around hers, holding it against his shoulder. “Did I ever tell you that I got a call from someone claiming to be my mother once?”
“What? When?”
“It was about eight years ago. I was on tour, and when I got to the venue in Hartford to perform, a young woman ran up to me and pressed this pink slip of paper into my hand. It had my mother’s name and phone number on it. I guess she called when she heard I was going to be performing there.”
“Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me? What did you do?”
“I tried to forget about it.” He released her hand and she stepped in front of him, giving him nowhere to run. “I guess that’s why I didn’t tell you. I was afraid you’d tell me I had to call. I thought you’d ride me about it until I did.” Her hurt expression made him wish he could take the words back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just wasn’t sure I was ready. Honestly, I’m not even sure it was her. It could have been a hoax. The fact I grew up in foster care isn’t exactly a secret. For all I know, it could’ve been some crazed fan who would have tried to lure me to some secret meeting place so she could ambush me.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It didn’t seem worth the risk.”
“You travel with security,” she reminded him gently. “It wouldn’t have been that big a risk.”
It wasn’t the risk to his safety he was worried about. It was the risk to his heart and he knew she could see that in his eyes. “Okay, fine. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear anything she had to say.”
“Why?”
“I’ve hated her my whole life.” His fists clenched, but she trailed her hands down his arms and he threaded his hands through hers. “I can’t imagine not hating her. What could she possibly say to justify what she did? She abandoned her own kid!”
“I know, sweetheart.” She rolled forward on her toes, linking her arms around his neck. “It’s difficult, if not impossible, to justify that. But you know if you continue carrying all this hatred and resentment with you, it’s only going to keep hurting you.”
She was right. It was eating away at him, but he didn’t know how to let it go.
“Did you keep the number?”
He nodded dumbly, thinking of the worn slip of paper burning a hole in his wallet.
“Did you ever try calling it?”
