Page 125 of Arrogant Bastard
I don’t know why I asked the question. I guess I’m hoping I can somehow come to understand the family sadistic streak. We don’t talk about the fact that Uncle Beau, who was my daddy’s brother, fell in love with my mother the second he laid eyes on her. It’s a well-known family secret we never, ever discuss.
His gaze narrows. At sixty-one he’s a handsome man—a silver fox, as they like to say. And though I know he’s had what he calls “lady friends,” it’s my mom who holds his heart, even years after her death.
I don’t want to become like him. I can’t. Only it feels like it’s barreling toward me, and I’m unable to escape.
He’s silent long enough that I don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he shrugs. “Who said she didn’t deserve me?”
“I do. You’re the best. You should have been our father instead of him.”
Even though my mom didn’t deserve him, selfishly, I’m glad we had him. Way back before the bar, Beau had been the sheriff, and the only positive male role model we had. I’m not sure what would have happened to us if he hadn’t been so dedicated to her.
He laces his fingers across his stomach. “I’m not even close to the best. What you don’t understand is that in the end, we’re all just a bunch of flawed fuckers stumbling our way through life, doing the best we can.”
I tighten my ponytail until it stings at my temples. “But didn’t you want someone who lovedyouand not someone else? Why did you hang on to the fantasy for so many years?”
He sighs, long and deep. “I don’t know why. She became a habit I didn’t know how to stop.”
“What about after she died? Did it set you free from her?”
I don’t like the reflection he’s shining on me, so I need to understand how to avoid it. I have to understand how you move on.
I’m in love with Caden. There needs to be a way to recover.
“It did, in a way.” He glances at the TV. There’s a couple slow dancing under a fairy-lit gazebo. “But I never found anyone I loved more, so I kept letting them go. I liked them enough that I wanted them to find someone who loved them the way they deserved. It doesn’t matter. I’m good. I’ve got the bar and you guys. It’s enough for me.”
“I don’t like it.” I’m defiant. I need to have hope for him so I can have hope for me.
He shrugs. “Not everyone is destined to grow old with someone. All I can tell you is I’m at peace with it. It’s not a priority at this point in my life.”
I have no answer for that, and I don’t want to think about it, so I change the subject. “I know you have a soft spot for Jackson because he looks so much like her.”
“I’ve got a sweet spot for all of you, just in different ways.”
I search his expression. “Oh yeah? What’s your sweet spot for me?”
“You don’t know?”
I wrinkle my nose. “No.”
“When you were a little girl, you used to crawl into my lap and beg me to read you a story. As soon as I started reading, you’d lay your head on my chest and get very still, like you were listening with your whole being. Until the day I die, I will never forget what you felt like, snuggled up like a kitten, your silky hair brushing under my chin.” He smiles. “Your brothers were never like that.”
The memory makes my heart ache, because it’s another time I experienced that indescribable feeling. “I used to love the sound of your heart thumping in my ear. It sounded so sure and steady, like something I could depend on.”
“You were my reward, and that was enough for me.”
My throat grows tight, and I speak, in halting words, the hurt from my past. “I didn’t know. I just remember wishing I was somebody’s favorite.”
The tears well again. Those might be the truest words I’ve ever spoken. My heart breaks open, and my chest aches. I want so bad to be Caden’s. For a blink of an eye, I let myself sink into it, but it turns out I’m just one in a list.
He frowns at me. “You were your momma’s.”
I shake my head. “No, I wasn’t. Daddy was her favorite. He always came first with her.”
“That’s not true. She protected you kids from a lot. Things I never told anyone.” He shifts in his chair. “She did the best she could.”
“I can’t let that happen to me, Uncle Beau.” Wetness weaves a path down my cheeks. “I loved her, but I have to figure out a way to break the pattern.”
“You will.” He smiles at me. “She used to tell me God blessed her with a strong-willed girl to show her how life would have been if she’d been better.”
