Page 30 of Always

She doesn’t say anything. Just keeps her eyes on the road.

“Your turn,” I say.

“I… I did well in school.”

Hardly surprising. Skye is a very intelligent person. “I assume that. Dig deeper, Skye.”

“That’s deep. I was one of the brainy kids. The brainy kid in handmade clothes.”

“Skye—”

“Your turn.”

“Fine.” I draw in a breath. I won’t get angry. She’s doing the best she can. “My father drank. A lot.”

She raises her eyebrows. “He did? He seems fine now.”

“He’s a recovering alcoholic. Did you notice he didn’t drink that night at dinner?”

“No, I didn’t.”

I suppose that’s not unusual. Most people don’t go aroundwatching what others drink. When you grow up with an alcoholic, you look at things differently. “Your turn,” I say.

“Wait, wait, wait… You can’t just throw that one out there and then say it’s my turn. You need to elaborate.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. My parents aren’t alcoholics. They’ve been pretty happily married since…”

“Since when?”

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she stares out the windshield, nibbling at her lower lip. Have I struck a nerve?

“When I was little,” she finally says, “about seven or eight, my father went away for a while right before harvest. My mother spent a lot of time crying, and I spent a lot of time trying to get her attention. He came back around Christmastime. Mom stopped crying then, but things were weird for a while.”

Her parents separated? I didn’t see that coming. Steve and Maggie seem devoted to each other. Of course, I’ve known them for all of a few hours.

“Where did he go?” I ask.

She sighs. “I don’t know. They never talked about it. I have my suspicions, of course. He was probably having an affair.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“Why else would a husband leave and a wife cry all the time?”

“Have you asked your mom?”

“Yeah. I asked both of them. All they say is it’s in the past and it’s nothing for me to worry about.”

“When was the last time you asked?”

She wrinkles her forehead. “The year I started high school, I think. They had a big fight about… I can’t even remember what. My dad stormed out, and I relived that day when my dad had left before. I asked my mom about it, and again she just said everything was fine and I didn’t need to worry.”

“And you haven’t asked since then?”

“Nope. Why continue asking when they won’t tell me?”

“That doesn’t sound like the Skye I know.”

---