Page 71 of To Belong Together
He rubbed his neck and studied the swirls in the carpet. He knew parts of her history, the pain of being left out growing up, the disdain she encountered from her peers now. He’d been listening to her tell stories all day. Maybe he owed her something in return. Then again, he had shared about getting demoted from groomsman.
“How am I supposed to get to know you if you won’t share about yourself? How would you feel if I were as quiet as you?”
He admired her ability to talk with only a little encouragement. Opposites attracted. He liked her for who she was. Why couldn’t she accept him in return?
“My parents shut me out too. I must not seem trustworthy or something.” A line marked the space between her eyebrows, warning him she was more serious than her tone revealed. “And I’m the big fool who can’t shut up, I guess.”
“Erin, please.” Didn’t she realize she was demanding the gory details of one of his worst experiences?
“Okay. Family drama, right? You know your family better than I do, and honestly, I might just be upset about what my mom won’t tell me. It hurts knowing people I care about are struggling, and they won’t even talk to me, but …” She unzipped his coat, pulled it off, and held it out. “Just don’t lock everybody out, and don’t let them lock you out. None of us wins going it alone in silence.”
He held the coat bunched in his good hand. “I’m not trying to lock you out.”
She gave a plastic smile. “I’m looking forward to driving your car tomorrow. That’s still the deal, right?”
“I’ll have it back here for you by nine.”
Distance as cold as a north wind swept between them.
She swiped her key card, and the light on the lock turned green. She turned the knob and, with her foot propping the door open, laid her hand on his chest and kissed his cheek. “Have a good night.”
He dropped the coat and caught her hand. The movement seemed to surprise her, and the door clicked shut with them both still in the hall.
At the prospect of sharing what she wanted, his pulse skittered like a renegade hi-hat, but he hadn’t died from that yet today. “My biological father was great some days and abusive others.”
Erin’s eyes widened. Whatever story she’d expected from him, that wasn’t it.
Realizing how tightly he held her hand, he loosened up as he pressed on. “When he was in a mood, being quiet was safest. One day he didn’t feed us lunch before he zonked out on the couch. Angie, Stacy, and I got hungry, so finally I made honey and peanut butter sandwiches. When Dad woke up in the middle of the afternoon, he found smears of honey on the table and yelled at me for spoiling everyone’s dinners. His tirade upset Kate, who was just a baby. She started crying in her little playpen. He threw a floor lamp her direction like it was a spear. It hit the wall. The bulb shattered all over her, and he kept shouting at her. So I took my sisters outside and started walking. A police officer saw us and stopped. I guess a seven-year-old unattended with a baby raises some red flags.”
“Oh, John.”
“I told him what happened. My family was never the same again.”
“But in a good way, right?” Hope mingled with the sadness in her eyes. “They stepped in?”
“Dad lied. It was the first time he’d been violent toward us. Even Mom believed him over me. So when Dad made sure I understood that oversharing comes with consequences, I stayed quiet.”
Erin’s mouth fell open. She moved her lips without forming a word.
He’d gone and overshared again.
“What did he do to you?” she asked.
John swallowed, wanting to keep the rest inside, but he’d come this far. “Went to town with his belt on my back.”
She gasped as if she could see it, a grown man beating a boy with a belt. “Did your mom find out?”
“No.” The evidence had taken two weeks to heal. When she’d found the marks a week in, he’d told her he fell on a hill by school. Then, he’d gotten in even more trouble because he’d been warned away from the rocky embankment many times. “But they did start fighting more. A few months later, he threw a plate at her head during dinner, and she got us all out. That was the last time I saw him.”
“And now?”
“Now there’s Hank. He’s a good guy.”
“But what about your dad?”
“He died in a foolish hunting accident. I used to beg to go with him—he wasn’t all bad. If we’d stayed, I might’ve been there.”
“Thank God you weren’t.”
