it couldn’t have been easy for a black man and a white woman to be together in a small town.
Nana grew quiet, and I wondered if the same question was said too quietly for us to hear, or maybe just communicated in her eyes, because Luther added, “We went through a lot in those early days. Lot of folks didn’t appreciate me walking around town with her.”
“I’d imagine.”
“She didn’t care one iota.” Luther laughed again. “Even when they set the barn on fire.”
They what now? Sam didn’t seem at all surprised to hear this; he just lifted his brows and nodded at me like I know, right?
“You raised Tate’s mom all on your own?” Luther asked, turning the conversation back to us.
Sam studied me, and it was a little like being stuck in quicksand. I wanted to escape, but couldn’t. I’d never heard Nana talk about this before.
“We did fine, the two of us. Emma was a good girl,” Nana told him, using Mom’s new name. Emma now, not Emmeline. “She married too young, though. Met a boy when she was only eighteen, and it just moved too fast.”
Sam’s eyes snapped from the window back to mine, and I knew we were both wondering what Nana would actually divulge to Luther.
On the other side of the window, the old man hummed sympathetically. “I worry when it happens, Sam will fall too hard, too fast,” he said quietly. “He wears every feeling on his sleeve. Always has.”
Sam turned a bright tomato red and reached for his piece on the table, mirroring my opening move, king’s pawn. “You know, we could turn this into strip chess,” he said awkwardly, too loudly.
I leaned forward. “If we can hear them, they can hear us.”
He paled, whispering, “Do you think they heard me ask you to go make out?”
“Or plot how to get me naked?” I asked, stifling a laugh.
Nana’s voice returned, and our questions were answered in the obliviousness of her tone. “He’s a sweet boy, but strong. He’ll be fine.”
“I hope.” A pause, and then, “If you don’t mind me asking, is Tate’s father still in the picture?”
“Oh, Emma’s ex-husband? He was awful,” Nana said. “Cheating all the time. Could barely be bothered to spend time at home with his girls.”
A knife slowly worked its way into my chest, and Sam abruptly stood with a look of urgent sympathy, gesturing for me to follow him away from the table. But I couldn’t. My entire life Nana had been a stony vault when it came to Dad. Other than that, she just answered every question with, “You’re better off here.” I felt like there was some information I could glean in eavesdropping, something that would explain why Dad never came for me, or why Mom never let him.
“Emma is a passive one,” Nana continued. “Sweet—maybe too sweet. But the husband? My goodness. I suppose it’s hard to see someone’s true colors when you’re in love like that, but I’ve never met a more selfish man. Everything was about appearance.”
Luther hummed low in this throat, a quiet mmm-hmmm of understanding. “He have any contact with Tate?”
“No.” She paused, maybe finally drinking her coffee. “He gave little indication that he wanted any.”
This stabbed fully into me; a sharp splinter into my thoughts. I had memories of sweetness with my father: in his arms on the sidewalk, lying head-to-head in bed, reading books, splashing in the waves on the beach. I wanted to believe that he gave me up for my own protection, that he did it out of love. He may not have fought for me, he may have forgotten to pick me up at the airport . . . but what Nana said meshed too well with the unwelcome sense I got from Sam that night he told me what he knew: that Mom might have given me a better impression of Dad than he deserved.
Finally I did stand, realizing that there was nothing in this conversation I wanted to hear. I didn’t want my memories to be washed in hindsight with Mom painted as a weakling and Dad as a deserting father who didn’t want me at all.
Sam jogged after me. “Tate.”
I marched past the bocce court and into the thin patch of trees just behind the restaurant.
“Tate.” He caught up with me, falling into step to my right. “Hey.”
Stopping at a low bench, I sat, leaning my elbows on my knees.
“You okay?”
I let out a short, dry laugh. “The thing is, she won’t