Page 49 of Surprise Baby for the Enemy

And now I’m twenty-five, and can’t imagine trying to build a friendship with them from scratch. “I… think I know what that’s like,” I say.

Beth smiles at me sympathetically, and my chest warms. “When he was little, Derrick was absolutelybrimmingwith energy. He’d become best friends with everyone and everything he talked to, even if it wasn’t a living thing! He’d chat up the old dead tree on the side of the house, the stray cat that always hung around, the older kids riding around on their bikes- you name it, he’d make friends with it.”

That doesn’t sound withdrawn to me. It sounds just right for the gap-toothed kid in the photos, with eyes like twin oceans.

“What happened?” I ask. Awkwardly, I clarify. “I was looking at all the photos you’ve got of him. He seemed… sad when he got a little older.”

Beth’s smile sours, and I’m afraid I made her mad. But when she speaks again, she just sounds sad. “He had a shitty father,” she says. “Or maybe it’s more accurate to say I had a shitty husband. He… liked to talk with his fists, if you understand me.”

I do, and the very thought of it makes me sick. “I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

Beth waves a hand to soothe me. “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. The man’s been dead for years, and good riddance to him. Derrick and I are both much better now. We’re safe and we’re happy.” She says it like it’s something she’s had to remind herself of before, and I wonder if it’s something Derrick would agree with.

Is he happy with his life? Because he’s certainly not safe.

Suddenly, I understand why he lied to his own mother so many times just yesterday. I can only imagine what this woman has been through, and what she’s had to try to forget every day. My childhood wasn’t any kind of cakewalk, but at least no member of my family has ever hit me. If they did, and they died, I’d want to be told every single day that I was safe now, that everything was okay now, that nothing like that would happen again.

I don’t realize I’ve let the silence stretch until Beth reaches out to me. She touches my cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “And we’re making new friends,” she adds, looking at me with love, pure and simple.

I make an excuse to return to the house before I can burst into tears in front of Beth. In my rush through the back door, I almost slam straight into Derrick, still looking sleep mussed and unfairly beautiful.

To my surprise, he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees me. “Where have you been?” he asks.

Did he think I’d run off again while he was asleep? Where the hell would I go in a police cruiser that looks like it’s been through the wars? I can’t be too offended, since I was the one who set the precedent.

Still, my stomach does something funny at the idea he’s been looking for me since he woke up. The tension between us now is not the same as it was last night. It’s more uncertain, less angry.

Is it a change in me, or in him?

“I just went for a walk,” I tell him. “Your mom and I talked for a bit in the stables.”

He looks instantly wary. “What did you say?”

I push past him into the house, abruptly tired of his suspicion, whether or not it’s been well earned. This is why I don’t make friends. You have to maintain people’s faith in you, and that’s exhausting when you’re as much a failure as I am.

“What she wanted to hear,” I say, and leave him in the doorway.

CHAPTER 26

Derrick

It takesall my willpower not to follow Raleigh inside and up the stairs. At some point before this weekend ends, we’re going to have to confront each other, but now isn’t the time. What I want is for her to come to me of her own free will, to let me into her life because she wants me there.

But if I have to tie her down and talk some sense into her, I will.

Sure enough, I find my mother in the stables where Raleigh left her.

“Can I make you lunch?” I ask, grabbing her buckets of brushes and muggy water before she can bend down for them.

She pats my back and follows me out to the shed. “Absolutely, my love! I’ve been missing your grilled cheeses.”

I help her put away her tools, then head to the kitchen to start heating the pan while she cleans herself up. Raleigh’s words echo through my head as I lather butter over bread and start browning it on the stove.

What she wanted to hear.

It could’ve been a jab, but I don’t think Raleigh meant it that way. It was more of an acknowledgement that this place issupposed to be my mother’s haven, and sometimes, to keep the peace, lies have to be told.

Did my mother tell her something of the past? That seems unlikely. If anything, I learned how to lie from my mother, who told the best lies to herself.

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