Page 50 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
Oh, God, she’d included him. But it was true. Still, she rushed on before Megan could probe. “And I met the man who does the pony therapy last night. His name is Kade, and he’s wonderful. I think you should talk to him. He can help Ollie. I just know it.”
“I’m still not sure about that,” her sister said, taking her hand. “Angie, I need you topromiseme not to do anything impulsive. It scares me that you included Carrick on your list. I thought you’d sworn off men for the time being.”
Oh, God, not this!
“Now I’m really going to leave before I say something I’ll regret. Megan, I know you’re hurting, but you might remember I’m trying to help you and that I don’t exactly feel great about my life either. I wish you’d understand you’re not the only one going through things.”
“Stop arguing!”
They both turned. Ollie was standing in the doorway, red in the face.
God, he’d heard them. She should have left before it got this bad. “Ollie, I’m so sorry—”
“Go back to bed,” Megan said, crossing to him. “I’ll tuck you in.”
“No,” he yelled. “Stop treating me like a baby. No one does that but you!”
Angie gazed at her nephew, but he was staring at his mom, who held out her hands to him. “But honey, your daddy died.”
“Dad was never home!” He pressed his fists to his little legs. “It’s no different than when he was alive except you’re sad all the time and won’t let me do anything.”
Megan sucked in her breath. “Ollie—”
“No! You keep telling me to be sad, and Iamsad. But not all the time. I just want to be like other kids and ride bikes and climb down ladders without you hovering over me every minute.”
Megan got on one knee before him. “But you aren’t like other boys. You lost your father.”
“Stop saying that!” He stomped his foot. “He was never home. He never played ball with me or took me to my soccer games or came home for my birthday. He wasn’t like other dads.” His voice rose to a shout. “I hate him. I’ve always hated him.”
Megan pressed her hand to her mouth as Ollie charged past her and wrapped his arms around Angie’s legs, his whole body trembling.
“Tell her, Aunt Angie. Tell her to leave me alone.”
She met Megan’s anguished eyes. Caressing his hair, she comforted him as best she could. Part of her understood Ollie, but this couldn’t be about her. “You know I think you should be allowed to play and ride your bike all you want, but I’m not your mom.”
“I wish you were,” Ollie said, clutching her leg.
Megan turned her head away, and there was no denying Ollie’s arrow had found its mark and dug in deep.Shit.
“Aunts are more fun by definition,” Angie said, trying to be the peacemaker.
“I want to ride the pony I heard you talking about,” Ollie said, lifting his tomato-red face. “And I want to ride fast.”
Angie glanced over at Megan, but her face was still averted.
“Fine,” her sister said, rising slowly. “You can ride the pony. I’m going back to my room now. Ollie, feel free to play wherever you want.”
That was it? She was just going to give up and scuttle off to bed? Angie wanted to call after her,He’s your son. Not mine.
Well, so be it. If Ollie wanted to move forward like Angie did, they would do so together. She couldn’t force Megan to engage with the world.
“How about you get dressed, grab something to eat, and then get your bike?”
She rubbed the back of his head gently, and he nodded.
“I’m going to paint while you ride by the pasture. If you decide you want to paint or, I don’t know, chase the sheep, then you tell me. We’re going to have a good day.”
“And see Liam,” Ollie said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m mad at my mom.”
