He settled back down again with a sigh, throwing an arm over his eyes. “What was it like for you growing up without your mom? And don’t sugarcoat it either. I need to know.”
“You look like you don’t want to know.”
“I don’twantto know. I need to know,” he said, looking like he was preparing himself to hear the worst.
I shrugged. “I was so young. It will be different for Sophie because she might remember some things. I have no real memories to associate with my mom. I didn’t know any different, so I didn’t think about it most days.”
I wanted to stop right there. But, ultimately, that wouldn’t satisfy Jake. And it wasn’t the whole truth either.
“I remember sometimes feeling mad at her for not being there. It doesn’t make any sense because it obviously wasn’t her fault. But it was usually whenever I needed her for a school event, likeMoms and Muffinsat the elementary school, or something like that. Remember the two dances I went to in high school? The ones you and Dusty set me up on?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know anything about makeup.” I made the mistake of looking at Jake.
“I am shocked to hear this.”
I ignored him and continued. “Anyway, it was my first dance, and I heard all the girls in our group talking about getting back from the day date in time to do their makeup before the dance. So the day before, I bought some blush and mascara and some lipstick, and I remember putting it all on, but I couldn’t figure out how not to look like a clown. I tried like three times, but I kept making it worse. So I scrubbed my face and started to bawl in the bathroom.”
I kept going, my voice on autopilot now. “I remember feeling so angry that she was gone and how it wasn’t fair. Everyone else still had their moms. I’d get so mad whenever I’d hear my friends complaining about their moms for some reason. Anyway, that’s what hurt the worst for me. But life without her was the only life I knew.”
I sucked in a breath and dared another look at Jake. He looked stricken by my confession. Even his eyes were rimmed with red.
“I’m sorry, Tuck,” he whispered.
“You asked me not to sugarcoat it. So there you go.”
He nodded, but I wasn’t done.
“Everybody’s got hard, Jake. That’s just life. You can’t protect Sophie from everything. Miranda chose to leave. That’s on her. But you stayed. And Sophie knows that she has a dad who loves her enough for two parents combined. And she’s got your mom and Miranda’s parents and women on this ranch who would do anything for her, including me.”
When he only stared at the sky, I continued.
“Want to know something else?”
“Probably not.”
I nudged his arm. He nudged me back.
“When I was crying in the bathroom that night, I randomly got a text from your mom, asking if I needed help with anything.”
I felt Jake look at me, but I kept my gaze averted as a small tear slid from my eye at the memory.
“I sent her a blurry picture of my face, and she was at my house five minutes later, fixing my makeup. And my hair.”
“She wasn’t much better with that stuff than you were.”
Grinning, I said, “No, she wasn’t. But she was better than me, and she was exactly what I needed.”
“You were always her favorite.”
I snorted in disbelief.
“And when I got older, and Chad left home, and my dad needed me to help cook for us both, Tessa and my Aunt Nancy came over and walked me through a bunch of recipes while I took notes.”
“Was Tessa still as bossy back then?”
“Yeah, but my dad and I were too grateful not to eat spaghetti every night to care. The point is, when I needed them, there were women I loved who always showed up for me. And it was good enough. I had a really great childhood. And at the sake of your big ego, you and your mom were a huge part of that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all of this, it’s that life has a way of providing the things we lack.”