Only now, she had Kit and Trev, standing there, staring at her . . . Kit with bewilderment, Trev with a sneering judgment. Worse, Kit had brought Trev here, he’d been in contact with him for months, and he hadn’t told her. She felt the biggest adrenaline drop of her life, hit with a feeling of utter, miserable exhaustion.
“Maybe you should go,” Kit said to Trev, looking nervous. Kit had always been able to pick up on the tiniest emotions like a seismograph. Reading the room was a survival skill he’d developed at a young age, one she was ashamed to have contributed to.
“Why did you come inside in the first place?” she asked Trev, hating how strained her voice sounded. She pushed harder, making herself colder.
“Kit was suspicious that there was a strange car by the carport,” Trev replied, “so I wanted to check it out. Make sure you were all right.” When she stared at him flatly, he huffed out a breath. “We might be divorced, but it doesn’t mean I’d want you hurt. I still care.”
It was so fucking textbook Trev. He had no problem with the idea of bursting in and wrestling with an armed intruder. That was brave, and tough, and dramatic.
Things like call his son over the past five years? That sort of thing didn’t count. He’d take a bullet. He wouldn’t pick up the fucking phone.
And Kit just waltzed him in here.
That was what hurt so much. She swallowed hard, ignoring it.
“I’m fine,” she said. “You can go now.”
“Who was that guy, anyway?” Trev asked. “Kit didn’t say that you were dating again.”
“Kit didn’t say you two were talking,” she said. “Guess we’re both out of the fucking loop.”
So much for staying cold.
Kit looked at her nervously. “Mom . . .”
“God damn it, Maggie, I’m not here to cause trouble,” Trev said, an impatient edge to his voice. “I really don’t care if you’re seeing someone. It’s been five years. I’m surprised you haven’t before this, honestly. I did.”
She wasn’t surprised he didn’t care, but he had to stick that little jab in anyway. She gritted her teeth. “What do you want, then?”
“I wanted to get to know my son better.”
She looked at Kit, who nodded slowly.
“So you’ve been talking for . . . a few months,” she said, trying to make it make sense.
“I know I screwed up, and it’d been on my mind for a while,” Trev said. “I still had Kit’s number. I figured he’d gone off to college, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try reaching out.”
She wanted to laugh. Or scream. Maybe both.
She ignored Trev, still staring at Kit. “And you decided not to tell me because . . . ?”
“I knew you’d be upset,” Kit said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking in that second like the six-year-old she remembered, when he’d done something bad but didn’t want to admit it. Not that wanting to get to know his father was bad. She’d always hoped that Trev would finally show interest in their child, the one that he’d always judged. The one that he’d been sure she’d ruin with her lack of discipline, with her errors, with her softness.
She’d lost that softness and done everything she could to take care of that kid. She’d gone from the tender, quiet, desperately struggling woman to what she was now, raising her son as best she could and battling anyone who stood in her way.
Trev was here, as if nothing had happened. Like he’d never hurt her, hurt them. Like he had a fucking right to be here.
“I’m in town for the next two days,” he said. “Then I’m back to Wyoming . . .”
“Dad . . . ,” Kit warned.
“。 . . because I’m getting married.”
She tilted her head, finally looking at him. He looked older, but that was to be expected. His hairline had receded, though it was hard to tell from his buzz cut. His short hair and the stubble on his still-granite jaw had more pewter than blond at this point, although his hair had always been light enough that it was hard to notice. He was still thin as a rail, ropy with lean muscle. He still had hazel eyes that she’d once hoped Kit would inherit, even as she realized that the Asian genes would probably come through. Just like Nana Birdie had hoped she’d have blue eyes like her father, but her mother’s eyes stared back. It had been another disappointment for Trev, once upon a time.
He had a lot of disappointments.
So there had to be something he wanted. Something he was trying to do. Her brain whirred, conjectured. Something clicked.
“You want Kit to come to the wedding?” she surmised, after a long moment.
“I want Kit to be my best man. He’s grown now, going to college.” Trev let out a frustrated sigh. “I’d be proud to have him standing up for me.”
Maggie went very still.
You don’t deserve him! You never fucking did!
But the words wouldn’t come out.
“Mom?” Kit’s voice was anxious.
She swallowed hard. “Well, I’m glad you two are talking,” she said. “I’ve always wanted you two to have a relationship, and if Kit wants to, then I’m okay with it.”
Trev’s mouth twisted in a smile. “Wow. That was easier than I thought. We used to argue about everything.”
“Now get out.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Ah. Here it is.”
“This is my house, Trev,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. Then she turned to Kit. “If you want to hang out with him, have a meal or two with him, you can absolutely do that. Just not in this house.”
“Jesus, it’s been five years,” Trev grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I’ve let it go. Why can’t you?”
“Dad!” Kit glared at him.
“What? You told me yourself: she’s been living like a hermit. That’s why you were worried when there was a strange car,” Trev pointed out. “Hell, you’ve been jumping through hoops to get her to have a life and make some friends! That’s not healthy, Mags, and it shouldn’t be Kit’s problem.”
Maggie spun on Kit, who winced. “What? What is he talking about?”
Kit looked pale, his expression guilty.
“I know I made a lot of mistakes. I didn’t think staying here would’ve made things any better for any of us, and I still believe that,” Trev continued. “I wasn’t in a good headspace. But I always knew he was a smart kid, and he turned out great. Better than I ever expected.”
Kit looked stricken, and in that moment, she could’ve murdered Trev.
“But you should let him be a kid,” Trev scolded. “Not have him worry about you and come up with crazy schemes to make you social. He’s not the parent here. You are.”
She felt like she was collapsing in on herself. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, which should’ve looked defiant, but felt more like she was hugging herself, trying to keep it together.
“Dad, you should definitely leave now,” Kit said, his voice deep and sharp, brooking no argument. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Trev huffed. “Sorry,” he finally said. “If I was, you know, harsh. I just feel like I’ve been out of the loop with Kit for so long. I don’t want to see us make things worse, and this isn’t good for him. You can’t expect me to see something bad for my kid and hold back.”