She looked at the plant nervously before turning back to me. “Are you sure I shouldn’t keep it here with you? What if I do something wrong? I don’t want to accidentally kill it.”
I placed a calming hand on her forearm. “You’ve got this. Just remember, this little guy likes to be warm, so keep him out on your balcony. Water him once before you go to school, then check the soil when you get home. Depending on how hot it is outside, it might need a little more. But if you ever have any questions or think something’s wrong, you can always call me.”
She sat back, resting her behind on her heels as she wiped at her face with the back of her gloved hand, getting a little streak of dirt on her forehead. “I don’t get it.”
My forehead puckered in confusion. “Don’t get what, sweetie?”
“That. Right there.” She pointed right at my face. “You’re being so nice to me. Why?”
I shrugged and looked back at the succulent I’d potted in a cute earthenware pot—another gift for Evan to take home. “I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m just a nice person. There’s really not much else to it.”
“You should hate me,” she informed me. “After what I did, you shouldn’t be able to stand me.”
“You’re a kid, Evan. Kids make mistakes. Tell me something. Are you a good person?”
“I-I think so.”
I pursed my lips to the side and gave her a look. “Pretty sure that’s something you know for sure, one way or another.”
“Then... Yeah. I’m a good person.”
I nodded in agreement. “I know. And I know because every time you’ve seen me since you keyed the living hell out of my car, you’ve either looked close to tears, terrified, or ashamed. A bad person wouldn’t care. The fact that you do speaks volumes. You could have shown up here full of that attitude I’ve witnessed, but even though you were here to do something I’m sure you had no desire to do, you didn’t. You were polite and respectful, and you accepted your punishment.” I reached up and swiped at that dirt on her face. “You’re a good person, Evan. You just did something stupid. It happens to the best of us.”
She looked down at her lap, her expression falling with shame. “I’ve been doing a lot of that lately,” she admitted quietly, her voice so small it could have been carried off on a breeze. “That’s why we’re here in the first place.”
“Hey.” I bumped into her so she’d look at me. “Here’s not such a bad place to be. You give it a chance, you might realize what everyone who lives here already knows. Whitecap is an awesome place to live. Cut yourself a little slack, yeah? You’re young, and your life’s in a bit of an upheaval at the moment. You’ll find your way back to you.”
She patted at the dirt around her tomato plant a little more. “Just so you know, I don’t really want my dad to get back with my mom. So if you want to like, date him or something, I might be okay with that.”
“Oh, honey. Your dad and I, we aren’t—”
“He wasn’t happy when he was with her,” she spat out quickly. “I know that. I’m not stupid. I could see he was miserable. She was always complaining about something. Always griping to him, like he couldn’t do anything right. I was scared he wouldn’t want me anymore either.”
It felt like someone had just reached into my chest and squeezed my heart. I wanted to lean over and wrap her up in the biggest, tightest hug. The only thing stopping me from doing it was that it didn’t feel right, not yet. Today had been a good day, but we were still getting to know each other. Sure, she was opening up to me, but sometimes it was easier to vent your frustrations to a quasi-stranger than someone you knew.
“Why would you think that?”
She shrugged. “Just... some stuff my mom said.”
I sat silently, waiting to see if she’d say more. When she didn’t, I let out a breath and told her, “If there comes a day where you feel like sharing with me what your mom said to you, I’m here. If that day never comes, that’s fine too. But I have to tell you, honey, if she said something that made you think, even for a second, that your dad wouldn’t want you, wouldn’t move heaven or earth for you—and I know he would because I see it in his face when he looks at you—she’s dead wrong.”
“I’m not his real daughter.”
Georgia had told me she said that, she felt that, but I hadn’t been prepared to hear it, not the way she said it just then. She wasn’t being snotty or obstinate. She wasn’t trying to be hurtful. As she said those words, she sounded... sad. Broken. Like just the possibility they could be true crushed her entire world.
She sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, staring down at the baby tomato plant like it was the most fascinating thing on the planet.
The sadness on her face was just too much. Scooting off my haunches, I shifted on the grass so I was facing her, crossing my legs and pulling them close to me. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“My dad hasn’t been in the picture since... well, forever, really. He left when I was so young, I don’t even remember what he looks like. My mom wasn’t much better. Sure, she stuck around physically, but she never had time for me. She was always chasing one relationship after another. I came in a distant second to every single one of those guys, and let me tell you, they were not a pack of winners.”
She let out a little giggle before slapping a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”
I waved her off. “It’s fine. The point I’m trying to make is I know what it feels like when your own parent doesn’t want you, and I know my own parents never did a single thing to try and help me like your dad has done for you. Your grandmother is more of a mom to me than my own. Same with your grandpa. Blood doesn’t always matter, honey. Sometimes, the best family you could ask for is the one you choose, not the one you’re born into.” I tapped the center of her chest. “Your dad chose you. From where I’m sitting, I can see why, and you can believe me because I say that after you keyed my car.”
On that one, we both giggled.