tossed a
baby bib at him and said dryly, “Don't go getting a big head. I told you I was
curious about Jonathan's mother.”
“Yeah,” Mitch
said, although he was unconvinced it was as simple as Sara was making it out.
“Her betrayal
must have been quite a blow.”
“It was a hard
time for me with my grandfather sick and all. I'd know Lillian since I was a
kid and well, I don't know, I needed a friend. Like me, she didn't have much
growing up, but she had her dreams. I don't think I would have been so blind
to how Lillian had changed if I hadn't been so torn up with grief, knowing my
grandfather was going die. She's not the woman I knew growing up.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Thanks. It
all happened way too fast,” Mitch continued. “It shouldn’t have happened at
all.”
He couldn't
believe he was talking about his marriage to Lillian, something he'd never
really done since the annulment. But Sara made it easy. Those warm, dark
brown eyes wrapped around him, not in sympathy, but understanding.
“I'd gone back
East when Grandpa was dying and met up with Lillian again. It was stupid of me
to get into a relationship at such a bad time in my life, but I let the fact
that we'd known each other for so long cloud my judgment. I needed something
familiar. And after two weeks, we were talking marriage and making plans to
head back to Texas.”
“So Lillian has
never lived on the ranch then.”
He shook his
head just thinking about it. “We never got that far. It's probably why Mandy
doesn't know anything about it. I told Hank. I figured he might have told Corrine,
but I don't think it is common knowledge. It was one of those mistakes I
figured was better left in the past.”
He picked up
the bib she'd tossed at him, thinking of the irony. He'd been crushed by
Lillian’s betrayal, but he thought at least she'd come to him, try to explain
something. She'd let him go as easily as he'd walked away.
“When Lillian
found out I wasn't going to inherit any of my grandfather's money, she decided
‘til' death do us part’ was just a little too long for her. I didn't know
anything about Jonathan until I walked into the house and found Corrine holding
him. And you arrived soon after that.”
He drained his
tea, got up from the chair, scraping it against the floor as he pushed it back
against the table. As he set the empty mug in the sink, he tried to push away
the pain of that period in his life.
“My grandfather
was pretty much the one to save me from my parents.”
“Saved you?
How?”
“I didn't have
the easiest childhood. As marriages go, my parents' was pretty bad. Lots of
yelling, lots of drinking and slamming of doors. And Dad wasn't always around.
“My parents
were divorced when I was five or six, but neither one could let go of the
other. My dad would run off for months at a time and mom always welcomed him
back in. In between, she'd cry and when he was home... Well, let's just say I
raised myself in a lot of ways. It wasn't the perfect environment for a kid.”
He'd learned to
take care of himself, hide if it meant escaping one of his old man's rampages.
Sometimes Mrs. Santini, his next-door neighbor, would hear the fighting and
sneak Mitch out of the house, give him a good meal and tuck him into bed at her
house. His parents were never the wiser.
Mitch could
still remember the way she rubbed his back as his tears fell. No child should
grow up this way, she'd say.
Trust hadn't
come easy for Mitch. That's why Lillian's betrayal stung as bad as it did,
especially in light of Jonathan. He should have known about his son. She
should have told him long before she’d shown up on the ranch.
“Were your
parents always like that?”
“As far back as
I can remember.” He thought about it a minute. He never liked talking about
his past much. The happy times were too few mixed in with all the bad.
Alcohol and drugs had
baby bib at him and said dryly, “Don't go getting a big head. I told you I was
curious about Jonathan's mother.”
“Yeah,” Mitch
said, although he was unconvinced it was as simple as Sara was making it out.
“Her betrayal
must have been quite a blow.”
“It was a hard
time for me with my grandfather sick and all. I'd know Lillian since I was a
kid and well, I don't know, I needed a friend. Like me, she didn't have much
growing up, but she had her dreams. I don't think I would have been so blind
to how Lillian had changed if I hadn't been so torn up with grief, knowing my
grandfather was going die. She's not the woman I knew growing up.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Thanks. It
all happened way too fast,” Mitch continued. “It shouldn’t have happened at
all.”
He couldn't
believe he was talking about his marriage to Lillian, something he'd never
really done since the annulment. But Sara made it easy. Those warm, dark
brown eyes wrapped around him, not in sympathy, but understanding.
“I'd gone back
East when Grandpa was dying and met up with Lillian again. It was stupid of me
to get into a relationship at such a bad time in my life, but I let the fact
that we'd known each other for so long cloud my judgment. I needed something
familiar. And after two weeks, we were talking marriage and making plans to
head back to Texas.”
“So Lillian has
never lived on the ranch then.”
He shook his
head just thinking about it. “We never got that far. It's probably why Mandy
doesn't know anything about it. I told Hank. I figured he might have told Corrine,
but I don't think it is common knowledge. It was one of those mistakes I
figured was better left in the past.”
He picked up
the bib she'd tossed at him, thinking of the irony. He'd been crushed by
Lillian’s betrayal, but he thought at least she'd come to him, try to explain
something. She'd let him go as easily as he'd walked away.
“When Lillian
found out I wasn't going to inherit any of my grandfather's money, she decided
‘til' death do us part’ was just a little too long for her. I didn't know
anything about Jonathan until I walked into the house and found Corrine holding
him. And you arrived soon after that.”
He drained his
tea, got up from the chair, scraping it against the floor as he pushed it back
against the table. As he set the empty mug in the sink, he tried to push away
the pain of that period in his life.
“My grandfather
was pretty much the one to save me from my parents.”
“Saved you?
How?”
“I didn't have
the easiest childhood. As marriages go, my parents' was pretty bad. Lots of
yelling, lots of drinking and slamming of doors. And Dad wasn't always around.
“My parents
were divorced when I was five or six, but neither one could let go of the
other. My dad would run off for months at a time and mom always welcomed him
back in. In between, she'd cry and when he was home... Well, let's just say I
raised myself in a lot of ways. It wasn't the perfect environment for a kid.”
He'd learned to
take care of himself, hide if it meant escaping one of his old man's rampages.
Sometimes Mrs. Santini, his next-door neighbor, would hear the fighting and
sneak Mitch out of the house, give him a good meal and tuck him into bed at her
house. His parents were never the wiser.
Mitch could
still remember the way she rubbed his back as his tears fell. No child should
grow up this way, she'd say.
Trust hadn't
come easy for Mitch. That's why Lillian's betrayal stung as bad as it did,
especially in light of Jonathan. He should have known about his son. She
should have told him long before she’d shown up on the ranch.
“Were your
parents always like that?”
“As far back as
I can remember.” He thought about it a minute. He never liked talking about
his past much. The happy times were too few mixed in with all the bad.
Alcohol and drugs had
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