“So is setting an example for your niece about how she doesn’t need to turn herself inside out to be loved. How she doesn’t need to set herself on fire to keep someone else warm. Demanding to have your own needs met isn’t problematic—it’s heroic, and kids are watching. They’re always watching. If you set an example that tells her the only way she’s worthy of love is by giving everyone everything, she’ll internalize that message.”
I dropped my forehead to the table with a groan.
“There’s a difference between taking care of someone because you love them and taking care of someone because you want them to love you,” she continued.
There was a big difference. One of them was genuine and giving, and the other was manipulative, controlling.
“You’re going to be fine, Naomi,” Yolanda assured me. “You’ve got a big heart, and sooner or later, once all this drama is over, someone is going to look at you and recognize it. And they’re going to want to take care of you for a change.”
Yeah, right.
I was realizing that the only person I could count on in this life was me. And Stef, of course. But him being gay definitely put a damper on our romance.
“About Knox,” she said.
I picked my head up off the table. Just hearing his name was a jagged splinter in my heart.
“What about him?”
“I don’t know another woman in town who wouldn’t have fallen under Knox Morgan’s spell given the time a
nd attention he gave you. I’ll also say this—I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. If he was faking those feelings, someone needs to get that man an Academy Award.”
“I’ve known him for a good, long time. And I’ve never known him to do anything he didn’t want to do, especially when it comes to women. If he willingly agreed to the guise of a relationship, he wanted it.”
“It was his idea,” I whispered. A spark of hope lit inside me. One I immediately extinguished.
A man doesn’t go all in with a woman, it’s for a reason.
“He had a shit time with his mom’s death and everything that came after,” she continued. “He didn’t have the happily ever after example you grew up with. Sometimes when you don’t know what’s possible, you can’t hope for it yourself.”
“Ms. Suarez.”
“I think at this point you can call me Yolanda.”
“Yolanda, we’re practically the same age. How do you have all of this wisdom?”
“I’ve been married twice and have four kids. My parents have been married for fifty years. My husband’s parents have been divorced and remarried so many times neither of us can keep count. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s love and how damn messy it can be.”
“Hi, sweetie. How was lunch?” My mom was dressed in a dirt-streaked t-shirt and sun hat. She had a glass of iced tea in one hand and a gardening glove on the other.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to keep my eyes averted as I headed for the front porch. Amanda Witt had a keen sense of when something was wrong with someone, and this was not a conversation I felt like having. “Where’s Way?”
“Your father took her to the mall. What’s wrong? What happened? Did someone choke on a breadstick at lunch?”
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“Did something happen with Knox?” she asked softer now.
I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat, but I was choking on unshed tears.
“Okay. Let’s go sit down,” she said, guiding me down the hall to the bedroom she was sharing with my father.
It was a bright, pretty room done in creams and grays. There was a large four-poster bed and windows that overlooked the backyard and creek. A vase of fresh flowers sat on a table tucked between two armchairs that occupied the space in front of the windows.
“I’ll just spread this out,” Mom said, draping my father’s ratty bathrobe over one of the armchairs. She hated the robe and had tried six ways to Sunday over the years to get rid of it. But Dad always found a way to resurrect it.
She plopped down on the robe-covered chair and patted the one next to her. “Sit. Talk.”