He opened the door wider. “It’s okay. Honestly.”
She hesitated on the threshold. “I’ve gotten mad at you twice today.”
“With three brothers, I had people mad at me all day long. It’s not a biggie.”
“Why are you being so nice?”
“Because we’re human. People have emotions. Tempers. People get mad at each other, hurt each other’s feelings.”
And suddenly eyes that had been so dry filled with tears. Erika bit hard into her bottom lip, trying to stop the tears. “You should be the therapist, not me.”
He laughed, the sound warm, husky. “Never. I would hate listening to people’s problems all day. I’d tell them to buck up and just get it done.”
Erika couldn’t help smiling as she wiped her eyes dry. “You wouldn’t make as much money.”
He laughed again. “That’s alright. At least I’d have my sanity. Now come in. This is your room. Relax.”
She came in and crouched next to Beck who’d fallen asleep on his blanket on the floor. “I felt terrible leaving him.” She lightly stroked the top of his head. “Made me feel sick.”
“Then don’t leave him.”
She looked up at Billy. “I have to one day.”
Billy said nothing and she rose, trying to ignore the awful feeling weighting her chest. Everything was getting so complicated. She’d cared for Beck for five weeks now and it seemed inconceivable that soon he wouldn’t be in her life.
She could feel Billy’s gaze as she went to the edge of the bed and sat down. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not as together as I look. Underneath all this—” she gestured to her head and then the rest of her “—I’m kind of a mess. I probably shouldn’t become a therapist, because I have no idea what a healthy marriage or a healthy family looks like. I certainly didn’t come from one.”
“No one is perfect, and no family is perfect.”
“Yours seems pretty perfect in comparison to mine. My family is, well, complicated.”
She pursed her lips, considered her words. “My mom’s side of the family is from Utah, a little town that no one has ever heard of. Almost everyone in the town belongs to the same church. They’re Fundamentalists and part of a tiny Mormon sect with about one hundred and fifty members. The sect isn’t recognized by the Church of Latter-day Saints, and wouldn’t have been since early twentieth century. It’s also very strict, and my mom and April’s mom, Aunt Sara, were raised by my grandparents who were involved in the church. My grandfather only did business with other members, and my mom and Aunt Sara were only allowed to socialize with other Fundamentalist girls. They didn’t wear modern clothing, either, and they weren’t allowed to date, not unless the boy expressed intention to court for marriage, and then they were closely chaperoned. Many, if not all of the young people, had arranged marriages, and my mom and Aunt Sara were expected to have one as well.”
“It didn’t happen, did it?”
She shook her head. “Aunt Sara got pregnant by a man outside the church. She ended up marrying him, but he was abusive, so she left him and moved to Las Vegas where she raised April with a series of different stepdads and bad boyfriends. My mom met my dad at the community college when she was just nineteen or twenty, and they got married and moved to California. My grandparents cut off both their daughters. I never knew my grandparents and never visited their town, either.”
“My family has struggled at different times.”
“But you love each other, and talk to each other, and listen. You also forgive each other when someone makes a mistake, don’t you?”
“So far.”
“Mom didn’t have that growing up, and she found it really difficult being a wife and mom.” Erika paused, remembering. “I think I’m worried that’s my future, too. I think that was the appeal of psychology. Maybe I could learn how to fix myself, while I learned how to help others.”
“You don’t need fixing.”
“I stormed off earlier. It wasn’t mature.”
“I don’t hold it against you.”
“I hold it against me. I should know better. I should be able to do better.”
He was silent a long moment. “I think you’re way too hard on yourself.”
Erika shook her head, uncomfortable, wishing they hadn’t even discussed any of her family, or her past. It never failed to make her feel bad. There had been so much conflict, and so much unhappiness. She hated remembering because it stirred up all the old feelings and all the old pain. “I don’t know that either of them particularly liked me.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I looked too much like my mom, but thought too much like my dad. I was a perfect blend of the two, which didn’t sit well with either of them.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I just wish I’d know then that I wasn’t responsible for their unhappiness. I thought it was my job to fix things, and I couldn’t.”
*
Billy suddenly understood her so much better. He now understood why she’d studied psychology and counseling. He understood why she’d been so determined to reunite Beck with him. He also understood why she hadn’t believed she could manage raising Beck on her own.
She didn’t believe she could.
She didn’t think she had value.
She saw herself as inherently broken.
And it killed him because she was undoubtedly one of the kindest, strongest, most generous women he’d ever met. She asked for little for herself, and yet when she made a mistake, beat herself up endlessly. “What about you and April?” he asked. “Were you close growing up?”
“We used to see each other at Christmas and other holidays as Aunt Sara would try to join us at Christmas, but as we grew older, and Aunt Sara’s boyfriends grew worse, Dad didn’t want Sara over. Sara and April were always welcome, but not Sara’s boyfriends.”
“So Sara stopped coming.”
Erika nodded, her eyes, such an unusual mix of green and blue that they looked different every day, narrowed. “By the time we were teenagers, April and I had very little contact. I didn’t even know I was her emergency contact until they called me after her accident. I feel bad—”
“About everything,” he said, cutting her off. “I know.”
“That’s not fair,” she protested.
“Maybe not, but I have a feeling it’s pretty accurate.”
She lifted her head and looked at him, brow creasing. Thick golden hair framed her stunning face. He wondered if she had any idea of just how beautiful she was, inside and out. If she wasn’t Beck’s person, he’d find it awfully hard to keep his distance. But Beck didn’t just need him, he needed her, and Erika wasn’t the kind of woman you took to bed and then kicked out the next morning, and that was the only kind of woman he got involved with because just as she knew her limitations, he knew his. He wasn’t relationship material. He cared about people, but he didn’t love, not deeply love, not the way a woman wanted to be loved.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked huskily.
“Everyone should be this nice to you. You’re a really good person, Erika Baylor.”