Page 32 of Until Daddy

“I haven’t seen her. She and my father divorced when I was seven.” Divorced was the legal term but abandoned was more accurate.

“Oh.” He watched her expression, looking for pity. Most woman who knew he’d grown up without a mother quickly saw that as a reason for his overprotective nature, and a reason to show him how much a woman could love a man. They wanted to heal a part of him that didn’t need healing, but not Carissa. That one little word had been her response and there wasn’t anything lurking behind it. Like she understood, she got it, and didn’t see anything to feel sorry for.

“She didn’t fight for custody? I mean, your father is a big guy to go up against, but there wasn’t a fight?” More curiosity than pity laced her tone. Hope, maybe. Did she hope, like he had for so many years, that his mother had at least fought for him before walking away?

“No. Just decided motherhood and being my dad’s wife wasn’t what she wanted so she walked.” He grabbed his beer and took another swig. He’d gotten over his mother’s betrayal years ago.

His father, distant and cold, hadn’t paid him much notice really but he’d made sure Jamison had an excellent education and everything else he needed to grow up successful.

“What about you? Your parents still married?”

She gave a laugh.

“No.” Her fingers picked at the label on her beer bottle. “Last I heard from my dad, he was living somewhere in Texas. New wife, new life. But that was years ago, who knows where he is or what he’s up to. Not much of a settler.” She gave him a smile but it didn’t quite touch her eyes. He didn’t see sadness, and he didn’t suspect that she wanted any more pity than he did over her broken home.

“How about your mom? She still lives in Chicago?” He wasn’t sure what made him press her about her parents. She didn’t look any more comfortable about the topic than he was, but he needed to know more about her. He wanted to know about all her bumps and bruises, everything about her.

“Yeah. Well, the suburbs. She lives out in Carpentersville with whichever current boyfriend she has.” He could make out the distaste she had for her mother in her tone. “We don’t see each other very often. It’s good. We’ve never been very close—she’s lived a bit of a nomad’s life, and I prefer to be settled. When she left the city to head out to the burbs with one of her boyfriends, I grabbed the first apartment I could find and stayed put.”

“What about nursing school, did you do that here in the city?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Worked my ass off to pay for what I could, student loans, and a grant or two, and I was able to get through.”

He imagined her working herself to the bone in order to provide a life for herself where she didn’t need to depend on an absent mother and father.

“A lot of stepdads run through your childhood?” He wasn’t sure what made him ask that question. He’d had a few stepmoms in his life, but they’d mostly ignored him like his father once the rings were exchanged.

“Not dads, just men. Mom’s still looking for her Prince Charming, I think.” She smiled again and shook her head a little. “Funny. We both grew up with our parents broken, but only one of us still thinks relationships work.”

His chest tightened. “Relationships work with two people who put in the effort.” He hadn’t meant to sound hard, but there it was. His mother hadn’t tried, and his father hadn’t tried with any of his wives. But Jamison would. Fuck. He’d give everything he had to make it work with the right woman. Even if she didn’t believe in relationships.

“Your mom never tried to explain?” she asked.

He huffed. She was changing the topic but that was fine. They were making progress, even if she couldn’t admit to it yet.

“No, she never said a word, never sent a card or called. Just left.”

Carissa’s brow furrowed and she took a sip of her beer. “Then how do you know she just up and went? I mean, you were seven—how did you know what was really going on? Maybe your father didn’t let her come around. He’s not exactly a nice man.”

He should have felt insulted. Wouldn’t any son feel at least annoyed if his girlfriend said something like that about his father? But she wasn’t wrong. His father was calculating and cold. If he wanted something, he took it, if he needed something, he took it and he never gave back or gave at all unless it benefited him in some way. Even when it came to his son.

“You know my father?” he asked, more curious than insulted.

“No, not really. Garrick’s mentioned him a few times and he’s never come across as a real warm guy.” She blushed. “I didn’t mean to insult him, or you.”

He leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. “No, you’re right. He’s not a good guy. All business with him.”

“Would you want to talk with your mom if you knew where she was?”

Why was she pushing the subject of his mom? The woman had walked out on him and never looked back. He’d stopped wishing he could talk to her again before the first pimple had popped up on his pubescent face.

“You think my father paid her off or something? To stay away?” He let himself laugh at the idea. “As much as my father loves to win, I doubt even he would do that.”

She lowered her gaze. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I don’t know.” What would he even say to his mother after all the years she’d been gone from his life? Could they even have a conversation that wouldn’t leave a sour, bitter taste behind? “What about your father?”

“No. I’m better off on my own. But I know where I stand with both of them. You have this unfinished part of your childhood,”

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