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I’d never liked being in pictures, and it was a feeling I semi-regretted as I panned my gaze around the canvas-laden walls, feeling like a ghost in my own memories.
“Tara’s in the shower, but she’ll be down in a minute.” Whitney snatched the white roses stained cerulean blue, breaking into my reveries. She gave them a whiff and her smile bloomed brighter. “These are great. She’ll love them.”
“I miss her.”
Somber undertones breached the space between us as Whitney glanced down at her sock-covered feet and nodded slowly. “She misses you.”
I’d been back home for eight months now, but work had kept me busy and school and social commitments had kept Tara distant. “Is she pissed at me?”
Sighing, Whitney glided over to the dining room table and replaced a fake flower arrangement with the fresh roses in a decorative vase. Then she swiveled around and leaned back, her hands curling around the edge of the tabletop as she stared at me. “If she is, it’s in that moody teenager way. It’s no different with me.”
I sniffed, hands sliding into my pockets. “I fucked up. I should have packed my shit and left the moment you told me you were moving back to Illinois.”
“You had a thriving business you’d just built from the ground up. You were making a difference in the world. Changing lives. She knows that.”
“Making a difference in her world is my priority.”
“Reed,” she said. “You gave her your entire world for years. You were always dedicated. Present. She doesn’t hold it against you.”
I looked away, jabbing the side of my cheek with my tongue to keep the self-loathing at bay. Guilt gnawed at me. Whit and I had been high school sweethearts, her being one year older than me. I was eighteen and she was nineteen when Tara came into our lives. While our relationship had crumbled under the strain of becoming parents at such a young, immature age—and a shit-ton of external stressors—we were good parents.
When Whitney had scored a temporary position in the social work field out in Charleston, I’d followed. But when she’d moved back to the Chicago suburbs, our home base, after nailing down something permanent…I’d hesitated.
Opportunity had been dropped in my lap, something I craved, something that really fucking mattered to me…
And I’d stayed behind.
I’d been away from my little girl for an entire year. I’d missed out on moments, on high school milestones, and on that vulnerable phase in every teen’s life when parental guidance is needed more than ever. I was trying my best to make up for lost time now, stopping by for regular family dinners and taking her out for coffee and lunch dates, but there was a nagging tug inside my chest, telling me she hadn’t appreciated my twelve-month absence.
“Anyway…” Whitney sensed my runaway thoughts and cleared her throat, popping up from the table. “Let me introduce you to Tara’s friend. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”
I toed out of my boots, sliding them out of the entryway and moving toward the kitchen. “All right.”
Whit had told me about the neighbor girl they’d taken in—Tara’s new best friend, one year older than her—who had come from an abusive home with two parasites for parents.
The notion warmed me. For as different as my ex and I were, we both shared a soft heart. Compassion for the unloved and forgotten. Whitney was a dedicated social worker, and I’d always admired that about her. She worked hard making a difference in the lives of those kids.
I could only hope we were raising Tara right.
Pretty sure we were.
A clattering of pots and pans seeped out from the galley kitchen around the corner as I followed behind Whitney with my hands still tucked inside my denim pockets.
“Reed, this is Halley.” She stepped aside, revealing a girl standing at the stove with a wooden spoon in her hand. “Halley, I want you to finally meet Reed—Tara’s father.”
I came to a careening, heart-stopping halt at the edge of the kitchen.
I froze.
Blanched.
Something Whitney had once told me swept through my mind like a storm-charged wind.
Everyone gets a moment.
A moment that tested us, defined us, shaped us. One that showed us who we really were. The real us, down to the marrow. Not that superficial bullshit we flaunted to meaningless passersby who filtered in and out of our lives like transient ghosts.
Every goddamn one of us got a moment.