Her mouth went dry at the casual way he spoke. She knew how rough it was to have a parent who didn’t provide the things you needed. Not only the material things. But the emotional support a child needed to thrive.

She inched closer. Stopped when their knees brushed. She ached to comfort him.

“After I disappeared, they locked her up and she spent a week in jail. Cops didn’t know whether to be glad or pissed when I showed up alive. I thought the sheriff was going to whip my ass.”

“Do you mind if I have the tiniest smidgen of sympathy for your mom for being arrested for a crime she didn’t commit?”

He grinned. Trying to keep the atmosphere light despite the mutual reveal of childhood misfortunes.

“You can feel sorry for her if you want. She was an addict and even though I didn’t have much sympathy at the time, looking back she needed help she never received. Jail was good for her. By the time she got out she was clean and sober and shaken enough to stay that way for a while. The guy she was hot for had already left town so win-win for me.” He shrugged. “While she was sober, she met another guy, Larry, who lived in the town, an insurance salesman. They were married within a month—my mom was a real looker and knew how to turn on the charm when she wanted something.”

From his expression that charm had worn thin over time.

“Larry wasn’t a bad guy and he was on the road forty weeks of the year. Mom knew a good thing when she found it. She milked the guy for everything she could get and lived the high life when he wasn’t around. She managed to kick drugs except for weed, but she could never quite quit the booze.”

He eyed his own bottle with a quizzical expression. “I know it’s genetic, but I’ve never had a problem with abusing alcohol. Probably because I saw what it did to her, or maybe I got lucky.”

Darby moved close enough she could lean her head on his shoulder. He’d never spoken about his mother before. She couldn’t believe he was opening up to her now.

“Larry wised up pretty fast, but he put up with her anyway, although I think he controlled the purse-strings a little more diligently once he realized not everything that came out of my mother’s mouth was gospel. He tried to be a father to me, but I was a real brat back then. No way was I letting another guy, the latest in a long list, order me around and tell me what to do.”

Darby’s heart ached for the boy he’d been.

“Luckily, I had some great teachers at school, and Larry gave up trying to be my parent and settled for being a friend and we got along fine after that. He was a good man.” His voice softened. “He died when I was sixteen. Heart attack. I miss him more than I miss her and, despite everything, I loved her so damn much.” He looked away, probably thinking his love for his mother was a weakness. “Anyway, predictably, Mom spiraled out of control after Larry died. Went through the money and was drunk much of the time.”