“Once AJ was born, she took over completely. She was never pleased with how I did anything. She made me feel ignorant. And after a while, I started to believe her. After all, I was young, and she had raised children before, so I assumed she knew more than me. By the time I graduated high school, Lydia was making all the decisions for him. And one of those decisions was that he was going to stay with her while I attended college.”
Owen finds my hand and pulls it between us, holding on to it. I appreciate the encouraging gesture, because this is a hard confession.
“Instead of attending a four-year university, I decided to attend cosmetology school, since it was only a one-year program. I thought once I graduated and got my own place, she’d let him live with me. But three months before graduation, her husband passed away. She moved back to Texas to be closer to Trey, her other son. And she took my son with her.”
Owen sighs. “That’s why you moved to Texas? You couldn’t stop her from leaving Oregon?”
I shake my head. “She has the legal right to take him anywhere she wants. She said Texas was a better place to raise a child and that if I wanted what was best for AJ, I would move here after graduation. My final class ended at five P.M. on a Friday and I had moved into this apartment less than twenty-four hours later.”
“What about your parents?” he says. “They couldn’t do anything to stop it?”
I shake my head. “My parents have been supportive of my decisions, but they don’t get involved. They don’t really have a close relationship with AJ since I moved out of their house and into Lydia’s when I was pregnant with him. Besides, they have enough to worry about. I would feel bad telling them how Lydia is treating me, because it would just make them feel guilty for allowing me to move out all those years ago.”
“So you just pretend everything is okay?”
I glance up at him and nod, slightly worried as to what I might see in his eyes. Contempt? Disappointment? When our eyes meet, I don’t see either of those things. I see sympathy. And maybe a little bit of anger.
“Is it okay for me to say that I hate Lydia?”
I smile. “I hate her, too,” I say with a quick laugh. “I also love her, though. She loves AJ as much as I do, and I know he loves her. I’m thankful for that. But I never would have given up custody to her in the first place if I knew it would end up like this. I thought she wanted to help, but now I realize she’s using AJ to replace the son she lost.”
Owen scoots toward me until I’m looking straight up at him and he’s staring down at me. “You’ll get him back,” he says. “There’s no reason a court wouldn’t want your son with you.”
His compliment makes me smile, even though I know he’s wrong. “I’ve researched all my options. A court wouldn’t take a child away from someone they’ve legally been with since birth unless there’s a legit reason. Lydia will never agree to let him live with me full-time. The only option I have, really, is to do whatever I can to appease her, all the while saving every extra penny I can to pay the lawyer I’ve hired to help me. But even he doesn’t seem hopeful.”
He rests his head in one hand and brings his other hand to my face. His fingers trail lightly across my cheekbone, and his touch makes my eyes want to fall shut. I somehow keep them open, despite the soothing feel of his skin against my cheek. “You know what?” he says with a smile. “I’m pretty sure you just made determination my favorite quality in a person.”
I know I barely know him, but I definitely don’t want him to move on Monday. I feel like he’s the only good thing to happen to me since I arrived in Texas.
“I don’t want you to move, Owen.”
His eyes shift down, and he stops looking at me. His hand moves to my shoulder and he traces an invisible pattern with the tip of his finger, following it with his eyes. He looks apologetic, and it’s more than just the fact that he’s leaving. He’s upset about something deeper, and I can see his confession wanting to fall off the tip of his tongue. He’s holding something back.
“You didn’t get a job,” I say. “That’s not where you’re going Monday, is it?”
He still doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t even have to respond, because his silence confirms it. He answers anyway, though. “No.”
“Where are you going?”
I watch as he winces slightly. Wherever he’s going, he doesn’t want to tell me. He’s afraid of what I’ll think. And honestly, I’m afraid of what I’m about to hear. I’ve had enough negativity for one day.
He finally lifts his eyes to meet mine again, and the regretful look on his face makes me wish I didn’t bring it up. He opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head.
“I don’t want to know yet,” I say quickly. “Tell me after.”
“After what?”
“After this weekend. I don’t want to think about confessions. I don’t want to think about Lydia. Let’s just spend the next twenty-four hours avoiding both of our pitiful realities.”
He smiles appreciatively. “I like that idea, actually. A lot.”
Our moment is disrupted by the fierce growl of my stomach. I clench it in my hands, embarrassed. He laughs.
“I’m hungry, too,” he says. He exits the tent and helps me out as well by giving me his hand. “Want to eat here or my place?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure I can wait fifteen blocks,” I say, heading toward the kitchen. “You like frozen pizza?”