Page 79 of Again, In Autumn

I didn’t know any of that. Not until right now.

“I didn’t know that,” I mutter.

“He didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head, not wanting to get into graphic details of the unspoken summer, but say, “He didn’t talk about her much. Or himself, actually, beyond playing music. Likes and dislikes, that sort of thing. But…he was a really good listener.”

I watch Adam whack his ball, colored blue with washable marker, then fall to his knees dramatically when it lands in a pile of leaves. Grayson yells about docking points and Adam throws his hands up in understanding. He wraps his arms around his waist and bows to Grayson’s authority.

The idea of anyone not wanting him baffles me.

“He called our mom every day that first year. Sometimes she answered the phone, sometimes she didn’t.” An angry breath shoots from Maggie’s nose. “Being the abandoned pre-teen girl, I just wrote her off. I was so mad.”

“I’d be mad, too.”

“And then I was mad that she strung him along like that. I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t get angry like I did.”

“It’s hard to grow up without a parent, even one who sucks,” I commiserate.

In this moment, I’m not thinking about my mother. I’m thinking about my father.

Maggie nods, sadly. “Yeah. Well, Adam couldn’t walk away. He wanted to convince her to come back or take us with her. He just wanted her to care.”

“He said –” I stop. Maggie knows our secret, but if take her on the scenic route of our two-month romance, then it’s that tiny bit less sacred, less precious. I’d have to answer for it.

Bless her. She doesn’t expect me to finish.

“They worked out a relationship,” she goes on. “I haven’t been able to do that with my mother, but Adam couldn’t just let it go. And I’m glad he couldn’t. Because when my mom decided to reach back out to me, I wouldn’t have anything to do with her. I can’t forgive it yet.

“He takes rejection pretty bad,” Maggie continues. “He will work so hard to do everything in his power to get what he wants.” She sighs. “When he can’t control the outcome and there’s no way he can win…he just crumbles.”

“Oh.” I inhale, sharply, sensing the meaning behind the details dropped in my lap.

Maggie glances over at my profile. She flips a strand of my hair and brushes it down my back in a sisterly way and squints. “Does that make sense?”

I read her gentle face as Adam’s consuming laugh warms my subconscious.

“I didn’t know any of that happened to him,” I reply. “I didn’t know what he was dealing with.”

“I figured.”

Francesca and Kate walk past us with a platter of snacks for the boys. An overwhelming urge to express our mutual sentiment comes over me, and I turn my knees to Maggie, dropping my voice.

“Maggie, I would never…I didn’t mean to…”

She smiles, her hand lifting on my cheek. “I know. I can tell.” She pats my knee. “But I figured you deserved that context.”

She stands up and walks toward the yard, joining the others as they cheer for Grayson’s inevitable victory. With her plate in her right hand, her left arm wraps around her younger, taller brother.

Adam squeezes her back, his face curious. Then, he looks over at me.

My stomach drops.

Context. He thought I was loving and leaving him, just like his mother did.

I lost my mother, but she didn’t want to go, and I spent that whole summer sharing about her and how wounded her passing left me. Adam never said a word about his personal pain, just let me talk and cry. He held me and kissed my hair, stroked my forehead, soothed the burn of absent love with his presence and words.

Then I walked out on him. His old wounds never healed. They only got larger, more prominent.

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