Page 98 of Unexpected Forever
I clean up the kitchen and she watches me, her face thoughtful.
“You know, there’s a couple things we haven’t talked about yet.”
I lean against the counter. “Like what?”
“Do we want to find out the gender when we have the ultrasound?”
I think about it for a moment. “I say in the spirit of the situation, no. Let it be a surprise.”
She grins. “Good, I thought the same thing.”
“What else?”
“What about names? You have any family names you want to use?”
“No.”
My stomach hardens as anger whips through me. There’s no way I’d name my child after the people who were supposed to love me but couldn’t be bothered with my presence.
And let me know what a burden I was every single day.
Her eyes widen at my sharp tone. “I’m sorry, Nate. I know you and Megan were young when your parents died.”
When she continues to look at me as though waiting for me to fill in the blanks, I sigh, a sour taste in my mouth.
I did say she’d get all of me, didn’t I?
“How much has Megan mentioned about our parents?”
“Not much. Just that she was five when they died and y’all were sent to live with your aunt and uncle. But she doesn’t remember much about your mom and dad.” She focuses her gaze on me. “What she mostly remembers is you taking care of her.”
I blow out a breath. This is the part I didn’t want to talk about, the part that makes me feel inadequate. What I fight against all the time. I rub a hand over the center of my chest as memories assault my brain.
“Our parents were addicts. They were both in the music business, but I think they enjoyed the perks more than they did the music. They rubbed elbows with the music industry’s elite. Singers, dancers, band members, producers, agents.”
I sigh. “But there were all kinds of drugs and alcohol, those people in the wings willing to supply whatever they needed.”
I press ahead even though my stomach is in knots. “My mother was a singer, my father a guitar player. They were both so talented. Especially my mother.”
I can’t help but smile a little at the hazy memory of my mother singing. “Before they got mixed up with the drugs, they were loving parents. What I can remember of it was good.”
I stop, tapping into a box of memories I thought long closed. The memories I have of my parents being anything other than addicts are few and far between.
It hurts too much to think of them before they let their demons ruin our family.
“But after the drugs, they became these people I didn’t know, love, or recognize. They were mean, abusive in all ways—physically, mentally, emotionally.”
“Those are the hardest wounds to heal.” Charley’s soft voice is like a balm for my raw soul.
She threads her fingers through mine. I rub a thumb over the back of her hand, so delicate in my larger one.
“Long story short, they were too busy getting high all the time to take care of their kids. I had to grow up real quick.”
I shake my head. “Megan was so little, I couldn’t not take care of her.”
“Oh, Nate, you were just a little kid as well.”
“I was ten.”
