Page 83 of When There Was You
The rest of the kitchen comes into focus, and it’s striking. Masculine and efficient, and different than anything I’ve ever seen. The cabinets are painted black, with thick wood slabs for countertops. The stainless appliances remind me of the chrome on cars. A metal prep table with a shelf underneath serves as the island, and a round dining table with seating for six is tucked into the corner.
Butch hastens down the stairs. He exchanges words with Emmy in tones too low for me to hear then enters the kitchen, seemingly relieved to find me still here. He’s wearing jeans and a navy henley with the sleeves pushed up his forearms and a pair of wooly socks.
His hand grazes my back. “Can I offer you a drink? Coffee or tea?”
“I’ll take coffee, thanks.”
He pours two cups and hands me one, then invites me to sit at the table. He brings milk and spoons, setting them down before settling into the chair next to mine. I hold theribbed glass dispenser upside-down, fixating on the sugar granules drifting from the little metal flip top into my cup to avoid...whatever’s coming.
“I married my childhood sweetheart,” Butch says, getting right to it. “Met her at fifteen and put a ring on her finger once we graduated. We got hitched soon after. Emmy came along four years later and was…unplanned.” He pauses, lowering his voice. “I used to say she was an accident, and now I realize what a shitty thing that was to say. Emmy is the light of my life. And sometimes life gives you the best surprises.”
He’s so earnest, and part of me wonders…hopes?...if he meansmeas well as his daughter.
“Before she turned one, her mother left us, saying she couldn’t do ‘this’ anymore,” he continues, air-quoting“this.”
My chest squeezes at the image of a mother walking away from her child. It’s so cold, so…cruel.
Butch inserts two fingers through the handle of his mug, the tips tapping lightly against the ceramic. “I never anticipated her leaving or ending our marriage. Never saw it coming. She seemed happy.”
He scoffs. “Or perhaps that’s my ego talking. Back then, I was still a kid myself. A little wild and self-centered, racing cars with my friends, getting in fights, acting like a total horndog. With her, I mean. My priorities were less clear then.” He shrugs. “Maybe I was an asshole.”
My heart flinches a little, that he justifies being discarded. They were young, in the years when most of us make poor decisions.
Butch’s eyes stray to a spot on the wall. “She had dreams of moving to a big city,” he admits. “She hated small town life, and what she called ‘small town ways.’ She found it suffocating. I figured she’d grow out of it, realize the opposite is true. But then…” He hesitates.
“What?” I prompt.
“Then I started working for my dad, and she wasn’t happy about it.” He strokes his jaw with his thumb and forefinger as his eyes connect with mine. “It was a way to make money, but also, Iwantedto. I love cars, and I was eager to learn all I could about them plus participate in the family business. The gearhead gene runs strong in our family.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I’ve noticed.”
“I’d wager, after that, she believed we’d never leave. And honestly? I’m not sure we would have, or if I could have, which is a pretty fucked-up situation.”
I nod and sip my coffee.
“But how could she walk away from her own daughter? As a parent, I’ve thought about it a lot, and there’s nothing—nothing—that could pry me away from my little girl. Not only because I’m responsible for her, but because…she’s my world. The air that I breathe. The reason I get up in the morning.”
That knot in my throat enlarges and I swallow hard. “She’s never come back or contacted you or Emmy?”
Buch lets loose a long breath. “Actually, she did for the first time about six months ago. Remember the day we met?”
I instantly make the connection. “Your legal troubles?”
“Yeah. Darlene appeared out of nowhere and wanted to see Emmy. I refused, for obvious reasons. Then she blindsided me with a custody lawsuit.”
Yikes. “Does she have legal grounds?”
“The lawyers are figuring that out, but it’s not been the slam dunk I assumed it would be. A hearing is being scheduled, and it’s all taken a lot longer than I anticipated. It’s very fucking unsettling. I just want it to be over.”
“I’m sorry.”
He runs his fingers though his thick brown hair, scratching the back of his neck once he reaches it.
“When did you divorce?” I realize I’m clutching my mug and loosen my grip.
“She served me with papers shortly after leaving.”
“And you’ve raised Emmy by yourself this whole time?”
