“What do you mean?”
“It was never quite the same between the three of us after we got back from El Paso. We were on guard all the time, where before, we were always nakedly honest with each other.”
His voice turned sad. “Reede didn’t see as much of her as I did while she was pregnant, and that wasn’t very often. We were busy with school and she stayed close to home. Oh, we went through the motions of still being best buddies, but when we were together, we tried too hard to pretend that everything was normal.
“That night she tried to abort you stood between us like a solid wall. None of us could ever go up, over, around, or through it. It was there. Conversations became an effort. Laughter was forced.”
“But, you didn’t desert her.”
“No. The day you were born, Reede and I rushed to the hospital. Besides your grandmother, we were the first people you were introduced to.”
“I’m glad of that,” she said thickly.
“So am I.”
“If I’d been Celina, I would have snagged one of you when I had the chance.”
His grin slowly faded. “Reede stopped asking.”
“Why?”
Junior signaled for the waitress to refill his coffee cup. Then, cradling it between his hands, he stared into its dark depths. “He never forgave her.”
“For Al Gaither?”
“For you.”
Stricken, Alex raised her hand to cover her mouth. The guilt she had borne all her life pressed in on her like a vise.
Junior, sensing her anxiety, rushed to say, “It wasn’t because she’d conceived you. He couldn’t forgive that abortion business.”
“I don’t understand.”
“See, Alex, Reede’s a survivor. Hell, if anybody was ever destined to turn out rotten, it was Reede. He didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of making anything out of himself. Social workers, if Purcell had had any, would have pointed at him and said, ‘There goes a wasted life in the making. He’ll go bad. Watch and see.’ But no, not Reede. He thrives on adversity. He’s a scrapper. He’s strong. He gets knocked down and comes up fighting.
“Now me,” he said with a scoffing laugh, “I can overlook other people’s weaknesses because I’ve got so many of my own. I could understand the panic and fear Celina must have felt. She took desperate measures because she was afraid to stick it out.
“Reede can’t understand taking the path of least resistance. He couldn’t tolerate that weakness in her. He expects so goddamn much out of himself, he imposes the same standards on everybody else. Those standards are virtually impossible to live up to. That’s why he’s constantly disappointed in people. He sets himself up to be.”
“He’s a cynic.”
“I can see where you’d think that, but don’t let that tough pose fool you. When people let him down, as they invariably do because they’re human, it hurts him. When he’s hurt, he turns mean.”
“Was he mean to my mother?”
“No, never. Their relationship being what it was, she had the power to hurt and disappoint him more than anybody could. But he couldn’t turn mean toward Celina because he loved her so much.” He looked at Alex levelly. “He just couldn’t forgive her.”
“That’s why he stepped aside and gave you the advantage.”
“Which I unabashedly took,” he said with a short laugh. “I’m not as hard to please as Reede. I don’t demand perfection in myself or anybody else. Yes, Alex, in spite of her mistakes, I loved your mother and wanted her to be my wife on any terms.”
“Why didn’t she marry you, Junior?” Alex asked, genuinely perplexed. “She loved you. I know she did.”
“I know she did, too. And I’m damned good-looking.” He winked and Alex smiled. “Few would believe this because of the way I live now, but I would have been faithful to Celina and made you an excellent daddy, Alex. I wanted to try, anyway.” He clasped his hands together on the table. “But Celina said no, no matter how many times I asked her.”
“And you went on asking her, right up until the night she died.”
His eyes snapped up to hers. “Yes. I invited her out to the ranch that night to propose.”