Page 92 of Whiskey Throttle
I turn to face them. Standing side by side, he holds her hand. Needs an anchor when he really wants to vape. An ache grows in my heart that he has someone on his side.
Someone who understands, reads him, and doesn’t shy away from the storm and darkness that always surrounds him. Doesn’t give up and walk away exhausted, as I had done countless times. No, she sits with him, quietly through the worst of it. It’s admirable.
I nod, not knowing if she really needs my permission.
“There’s a lot here. More than can be covered in an afternoon.”
He gazes at her, not smiling, not frowning, just being.
“But if you’ve gotten everything out that you want to say to her about this situation, then I think she deserves to have the floor.”
His eyes slowly move to mine. Seeing him through the water remnants of my tears, his head tilts. Then he breaks contact with Claudia and collapses back into the chair. His boot lands with a hard thud against the table again. Resigned and ready.
There is so much between us.
A landfill’s worth.
But like she said, it won’t be resolved in a day.
“Okay, then. Babs, go right ahead. Don’t hold back.”
I don’t think I’ll come guns a blazing like she’s suggesting, but telling my side is the reason I came. I take a calming breath. Run a hand over my clothes to smooth them out and return to my place on the couch. My son glares at me, only distracted when his girlfriend walks past him to retrieve her wine glass and drink from it.
“Some of what you said has given me pause.”
I look past him, deciding which parts to address first. Easiest to hardest.
“Good it should.”
“Dominic.”
His name is more of a warning, spoken over the top of her wine glass. He shifts, angry but listening.
“I didn’t realize you hold me to a different standard than your father.”
“Higher, but whatever.”
“Higher, okay,” I echo after him, causing my guilt to grow. “I also didn’t realize how passionately you felt about his indiscretions. I assumed you weren’t bothered by them. Maybe it was a guy thing or some?—”
“How could I not be bothered? He was never home. And when he did come home, it was a fight in the middle of the night. Barrettmoor is big, but not big enough to hide the fact that my father is fucking around on my mother.”
“I guess I could have done a better job hiding that.”
“Fucking understatement, but continue.”
“Uh, I didn’t realize those ladies were prostitutes. Maybe if I had done some things differently, I wouldn’t have gotten so upset. Hollister wouldn’t have felt the need to comfort me.”
Admitting that is the first step into dangerous territory. Claudia puts her glass down as if preparing for another explosive reaction from my son.
“Maybe it’s everything you accused me of, or perhaps it’s not. I’ll need to think about that. But it felt good to have someone listen. Someone who’s seen both sides. And, yes, I admit that the age was initially a problem. I tried to push him away, but the more he was around, the more I felt seen.”
He snorts in disgust, mouth opening when Claudia raises a hand in warning. He snaps it shut, shifts in his chair, but otherwise remains quiet.
“I realize you might not want to hear this, but I felt wanted. Desired.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to hear that shit.”
“Dominic, even though she’s your mother and you only see her in that role, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have needs. She’s young and beautiful. She’s?—"
