Page 91 of Off the Mark
“Manners are overrated,” Tabitha mused. “And while I’m a fan of brute force myself, I agree that you’re very graceful out there. After I saw that documentary, I went down a rabbit hole and watched, like, all of your videos.”
I gave her a pleased smile. “I hope the rabbit hole was interesting at least?”
“There was a two-week period where Tabitha told everyone we knew that she was gonna buy a motorcycle,” Dean said. “I think this was probably around the same time.”
“Happy to help you still do that, by the way,” I said.
Tabitha nodded. Mouthedpleaseand I laughed.
Alice cleared her throat daintily. “Are any of your people left in Syracuse?”
I dropped my eyes to my plate, carefully cutting into the meat. “It was always me and my dad. And now his girlfriend Penny and their dogs. We’ve got aunts and uncles and cousins nearby, but we were never close. And my mom…” I cocked my head and kept cutting. “She left a long time ago. Turns out mothering wasn’t really her thing.”
Alice made a sound of sympathy but didn’t go overboard with the hand-wringing. I guessed, based on her own tragedies, she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of sympathy so performative it was patronizing.
“I’ve got one of those too. A mom who just up and left, though in my case she was happy to find a new family to take care of.” Tabitha gave me a look full of understanding. “Itsucks.”
Something shifted deep in my chest. Got noticeably lighter too. “It super sucks. And I don’t know why she left, because honestly? I’m super awesome. Seems like you are too.”
Alice hooted with laughter. Tabitha grinned and clinked her wineglass against mine. “Fuck yeah, we’re awesome.”
“Language, Tabitha,” Alice sniffed.
“I heard a lot of unholy words coming out of your mouth while watching the Phillies lose two nights ago.” Rowan pointed at her with his fork.
Alice clutched her chest. “I havenever.”
I hid a smile behind my napkin. Alice pushed her chair back and walked over to a bookshelf overflowing with novels, knickknacks, photo albums.
“Whatcha doin’ there?” Rowan asked, tracking her movement.
She waved a hand. “I’m not lifting anything heavy. I wanted to…here…” She turned, waving a triumphant hand. “Charlie would like to see this.”
The picture she pressed into my hand had folds at the corners, the slightest of creases. A picture she looked at often then, and I knew why immediately—the happy young couple. The smiling man who looked exactly like Rowan. The chubby baby with bright red hair. And Alice, looking twenty-five years younger, standing next to a man I assumed was her husband.
“That was taken on the front stoop right out there,” Rowan said softly. He reached down, cupped his hand beneath mine as I held it. My stomach hollowed, breath fluttery. His thumb stroked across the image just once.
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to express what I saw reflected in his profile—something sweet. Something loving. And a raw flash of heartbreak that made me want to cry.
“My parents moved here from Killarney in Ireland to build something new. And we did. We created something magical with our neighbors and it mattered. It was real.”
Alice reached for the photo—she didn’t look sad as much as wistful. “And you know what? All of them showed up when Rowan and I needed it the most. That’s not something you forget in this lifetime, that type of kindness.”
A look of pure mischief replaced her melancholy. “We all deserve a community like that. I hope your mother and other family are healthy and I wish them well. But it’s a pity for them, isn’t it?”
“What’s the pity?” I asked.
“That they don’t deserve to know you,” she said primly. “Such a shame.”
I laughed, totally surprised. “You might be right about that.”
“There’s nomight. I know it,” she replied.
I remembered what Rowan had shared earlier, about the summer and how it affected Alice. I abandoned the raunchy bar stories I’d intended to share with her and opted for the truth instead.
“I’ve never told Rowan this, so…sorry in advance.”
I fixed my mouth into a fake pout. He brightened, twisting in his chair and dropping his elbow behind him. It allowed the tip of his index finger to rest on the ball of my shoulder and caress it.
