Page 165 of Titus

“We have Band-Aids,” she chuckled. “So, you and my sister.”

I nodded as I began to cut into the strawberries. “She has most certainly found her way into my heart without even trying,” I answered. “I understand she’s been hurt in the past.”

I looked over and saw Amelia’s expression sadden as she began cracking eggs into a bowl. “She has. It was pretty bad.”

“I don’t press,” I answered, continuing to slice the strawberries. “It seems like a subject that only traumatizes her further.”

“The guy was a dick,” Amelia said. She looked over at my pile of strawberry slices. “Okay. That’s enough strawberries. Dump those into the saucepan with a handful of blueberries.” She nodded toward the cabinet drawers. “Grab that measuring spoon and put two scoops of sugar in there. Set the burner to medium.”

I followed her directions and took the spoon she offered.

“Keep stirring until the juices start to thicken,” she said.

“So you knew the guy who hurt her?”

“Oh God,” she rolled her eyes. “I met him once, back when my sister was unsure about dating him. In an attempt to get with her,” she paused, “I guess,” she rolled her eyes, “he flew me out to a birthday party he’d planned for her.”

I watched her mind sort of drift to the past.

“It was the last time I really saw my sister during the time they dated. It wasn’t her who stayed away. Every time she wanted to visit me in the States, he found an excuse for her not to. Or he guilt-tripped her into being wherever he was.”

“That doesn’t sound like the woman I’ve come to know,” I said, smiling, hoping to lighten Amelia’s mood.

“No,” she grinned, sprinkling cinnamon into the eggs. “That man, in some weird way, learned to get under her skin and control her like that. I know he hurt her in the worst possible way, but I don’t think she saw how he was hurting her before all that, with his control.”

“Reminds me of my mother,” I admitted.

“Your mother was like Cat, or like the ex we rarely speak of?” she teased, heating the griddle and soaking a slice of bread in the egg batter.

“Catalina reminds me a lot of my mother. My father crushed her strong spirit, but unlike Cat, who got a very unpleasant wake-up call before she lost herself completely, my mother never had that moment of clarity… or at least it didn’t come soon enough. Pieces of her were chipped away so gradually over so many years that I don’t think she realized they were even gone.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said, using tongs to place a piece of French toast on the griddle. “That’s the thing with mental abuse. No one can see the bruises or the damage because it’s actively eroding your spirit. It takes a strong woman to even walk away from a man like that.” She exhaled, placing another slice of bread, drenched in egg, on the pan.

“My mother never left him,” I said, sort of lost in stirring this homemade fruit topping.

“Do you believe she stayed for her kids?”

“I do,” I said, “but I also believe it just became a normal part of marriage for her.”

“That very well could be the case,” Amelia said. “It’s a sad thing when parents can’t figure out how to raise their children and their children fuck up other people in the process.”

I unexpectedly laughed at that. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“My ex is just as fucked up, and now I’m bringing his child into the world without a father,” she said. “I have no one to thank but his mother for his entitled expectation of life.”

“I’m truly sorry, but perhaps it is meant for another man to raise your precious baby. Maybe he wasn’t the right man; he just provided the genetics,” I chuckled.

“That’s an excellent way of putting it,” she replied. “He gave me a baby, and I hope one day a man worthy enough will enter our lives and want to be a good father.”

“Don’t count that possibility out, Amelia,” I told her. “There are many, many men who would gladly help you raise that baby just to be in the presence of such a fantastic and beautiful woman.”

“Aren’t you full of charming words, sir?” she said, moving across the kitchen after leaving to get more slices of bread.

“I’m full of action as well,” I said, enjoying the positive energy of Cat’s sister.

“I know, a six-hundred-million-dollar yacht is off the coast because of your action.”

I laughed. “So, what are your plans this weekend?” I asked.