Page 87 of Conquering Oz

He sipped his drink and licked his lips, clearly stalling.

“Come on, Uncle Hank. Tell me.”

He sighed, pulling off his ballcap and scratching his head. “Not a man on earth I despised more than Eddie Burns.”

She knew very little about her father. The memories she had were few and far between. And none of them were great. He’d been in and out of her life. Even when he was around, he wasn’t interested in doing fatherly things with her.

“He wasn’t good to your mom, and he wasn’t good to you.” Her uncle paused, shifting in his seat. “Wasn’t good to a lot of people.”

“I don’t remember much except yelling.” She bit her lip, thinking back in time. “He was always mad at something.”

Hank cleared his throat then flattened his lips, staring off at the yard. Elodie had a feeling her uncle wouldn’t voluntarily give anything up. But she really wanted to know.

“What do you remember?” she asked.

After a few seconds of silence, she was sure he wouldn’t answer. But he did.

“I remember the bruises, black eyes, and sprained wrists. And watching over you while a friend took her to the emergency room.” He paused. “She was planning on leaving him, but therewere always setbacks. He stole the money she was saving, then she got laid off and had to get a new job. The amount of times I wanted to put him in the grave myself but she begged me not to. Said it would only make it worse. Offered for her and you to come stay with me but she worried that if she left, he’d try to get visitation or custody of you outta spite. Couldn’t trust Eddie, and she wouldn’t risk it with you.” He shook his head. “Him dying probably saved her life.”

Her chest tightened as a blanket of sadness washed over her.

“Yeah,” Elodie whispered, fighting against the pain ripping through her heart. Everything her mother had endured was for Elodie. She hadn’t realized it as a child, but when she was much older, she’d suspected there’d been some type of abuse in her mother’s past. Now, it was confirmed. A tear streamed down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away with her shoulder.

“Not the kind of dad she wanted for you,” he muttered.

As much as she wanted the truth, it was taking a toll on her uncle. As her mother’s brother, he was her protector. It had to have been hard not to step in and help her. But he couldn’t. Still, his guilt was obvious. Elodie wasn’t the only person to carry a traumatic burden through the years.We all did.

“My mom never talked about him after he died.”

Hank shrugged. “Most people don’t talk ill of the dead. Your mom wouldn’t have had many nice things to say about him. She used to tell me she wanted to regret the day she ever met him. But” —her uncle grabbed her hand— “then she wouldn’t have you. Never saw a mother love her kid as much as she loved you.”

Her eyes instantly welled.

“She hated that you watched him die.”

What?Elodie’s mouth fell open, and she squeezed his hand. It had been so ingrained to never speak of it. It was surreal to hear her uncle say it without hesitation.

“She told you?”

“When she got diagnosed. Told me about the break in and you seeing him get shot. She said she was scared that if you reported what you saw, the intruders might come back.”

She didn’t tell you everything.Her mother had clearly left out the identity of theintruders.

“She did what she believed was right, and I probably would’ve done the same. Keeping you safe was her only priority.”

Elodie was internally struggling with the revelations. Her mom sacrificed, endured brutality, and survived, all the while protecting her. That’s where her focus should’ve been. It was eating her up that everything she was feeling for her mother was somehow being clouded. Her father didn’t deserve an ounce of emotion from her.But…

“He was a monster,” she whispered, and her voice cracked. “So why do I feel bad for him?”

Her mind was seeing it play in real time. Her father had looked so scared and helpless, as if he knew he was going to die.

Her uncle leaned closer and wiped the tears from her cheek. “Your empathy is a testament to who you are, not who he was.”

He continued to hold her hand as they sat in silence. It may have been seconds, or minutes, or hours. She had no idea. She completely lost track of time.

“It’s getting late. How about I make us some dinner? I got clean sheets in the spare room if you wanna stay the night.”

Elodie smiled turning to her uncle. “I should be going. I’m opening tomorrow.”

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