JENNIE

Marco had been out of the hospital for a few days now, and he was lucky enough not to have suffered any brain damage. Ever since Marco had returned home, Lisa kept a close eye on him. He was terrified of his father relapsing, which wouldn't have been uncommon.

The amount of alcohol that Marco Manoban consumed on the regular was terrifying. I couldn't even imagine the amount of worry that existed in Lisa's soul.

When I got back to town Saturday morning, I headed straight for the auto shop to check on Lisa, where she said she'd be.

As I waited, I watched as the back door of the shop opened and Marco walked in with a coffee mug. He headed straight for the coffee machine and poured himself a mug of black coffee.

Then he topped it off with a small bottle of whiskey that he pulled from his pocket.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, completely baffled. After everything he'd been through, after Lisa almost lost him, he had gone right back to the bottle.

That broke my heart more than words could express, and I knew if Lisa found out, she'd lose it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he barked.

"Waiting for your daughter. Are you really drinking? After everything you just went through?"

"Don't come in here judging my choices like you know me."

"You're right, I don't know you, but I know your daughter, and what you're doing is destroying her."

"You don't know anything about that girl. You spend a few weeks with her, and now you know the ins and outs of how her brain works? You don't know anything. That kid is messed up."

"I wonder what made her that way."

He grimaced, turning to walk out.

"You're stealing her life away," I told him.

He paused. "Pick your next words wisely."

"You are. Do you know she doesn't even like working on cars? She wanted to go to college to study art, like her mother. She wanted to see the world."

"Now I know you know nothing about Lisa. She loves cars."

"No, she learned so she could help out around here. She wanted to help take care of you."

"Nobody asked for her help."

"Yes." I nodded. "They did."

He raised an eyebrow and grumbled, "What are you talking about?"

"The last thing your wife said to her was, 'Take care of your father.'"

"You got some nerve walking into my shop and talking about my dead wife. You know nothing about her."

"No, but I do know my father loved her, and I know she loved him, too. I know that when she told you she was in love with another man, it cracked your heart. I know you know what betrayal feels like. Trust me, I know it, too." He didn't say a word, so I continued speaking. "Lisa knows how much you've been through. Even on your darkest days, she still loves you. She loves her mother too, which is why she'll never leave your side. That was the last request she ever made of her, for her to take care of you, but while she's picking you up, she's missing out on living herself. On the day she lost her mother, she lost her father too, and every morning she wakes up scared she's going to be burying you any day now."

"So what, are you here to just tell me what a fuck-up I am? How I ruined her life?"

"No, I'm here to say you always have the opportunity to make things right. Right now, you have a choice: whiskey or Lisa."

He looked down at the alcohol in his cup and let out a low sigh. "You should leave."

"Okay, but for once in your life, how about you be the parent to your daughter instead of it being the other way around?"

"She's right, you know, Marco," a voice said behind me, and I turned to see Mama standing there. "You've been a child to your own daughter for years, and I'm not judging you, because I have been the same thing to my girls. All those years ago, both of us were betrayed. We were both hurt by the two people who meant the most to us. We took that heartbreak out on our own children. Even with all the darkness we sent their way, they still managed to have goodness in them." She walked over to Marco and frowned, placing a hand on his forearm. "Aren't you tired of being angry?" she asked him.

His upper lip twitched as he lowered his mug down to the table. "She wanted to study art?"

"Yes," I told him.

"She hasn't spoken about art since Hannah…" His words faded off, and I felt my gut tighten. He was so unbelievably sad. It was painful to watch.

"When was the last time you two have actually spoken to one another? Had a real conversation?"

The pain in his expression only intensified as he turned to leave the shop.

I stepped toward him to try to express my thoughts more to him, but Mama placed a hand on my shoulder. "Let him go, Jennie Ruby Jane."

"I just want to break through to him."

"Trust me." She shook her head. "He heard every single word you said."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because his eyes showed me exactly how my heart feels."

It made me sad to know Mama was hurting so much. Had she been hurting as long as Marco had? Why hadn't I ever taken the time to zoom in on my own mother? Perhaps it was because children oftentimes forgot that their parents were human, too. Perhaps it was because we assumed they had everything figured out, due to the fake smiles they delivered our way.

"What were you doing here, anyway?" I asked her.

"Looking for you. I heard you were seen walking into the shop."

"I just got here," I mentioned. "How could you hear that already?"

"It's Chester, darling. News travels fast. Which is why I wanted to be the first to tell you. Your father and I decided to separate. Well, he decided. I was forced to agree."

"Mama," I started, but she shook her head, giving me a sad smile.

"It's okay. I'm okay. I owe you an apology, though. For the past summer, for the past forever years. I put too much pressure on you and your sister to be perfect, to be loyal to people who didn't deserve your loyalty."

"Is that how you feel about Dad?"

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "I love that man. More than anything, I love him, and I tried to be everything I could for him. I wanted to be perfect so he could love me back. The truth is, he'd never be able to love me the way I love him, and that breaks my heart."

"Oh, Mama…"

"I guess this is what I get for treating you the way I did. I guess this is my humble pie."

"I'm so sorry you're hurting."

"For so long, I thought I was unworthy of love. I prayed on it each night, asking God to heal my broken pieces. To make my husband love me, but he couldn't. And now, Samuel says he doesn't want to be with me. That I deserve more. What does that even mean? More than what? All I know, all I've ever known was how to be his. To be the pastor's wife. And now, he's leaving me, and I'm…" She took a breath and closed her eyes. "I don't know how to be alone."

"You're not alone, Mama. I got you."

Her eyes stayed close, and her body began to shake. "I've been so hard on you."

"Yeah, but I get the feeling you've been harder on yourself."

When her eyes opened, I felt as if I saw myself staring back at me. "How did you do it?" she asked me. "How did you begin again after years of being someone else's?"

"You take small breaths. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or heartbroken, just remember to take small breaths."

"Small breaths…I can do that."

"Yes, you can."

"I just don't know who I am anymore. Without Samuel, do I even exist?" she asked me.

How odd was that? Hearing my mother repeat all the same questions I'd asked myself. "You probably exist more in this moment than you ever have in all your life. You'll be surprised by all the things you learn about your heart and how it beats. And if you need to get away, you can come stay with me for as long as necessary. I have a spare room."

"You'd do that for me?" she questioned, her voice cracking as if my offer stunned her.

"Oh, Mama." I pulled her into a hug and held on tight. "I'd do anything for you."

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slow. "Small breaths," she whispered.

"Yes," I replied. "Just take small breaths."