Chapter 20: Easy

"Easy," I said.

"You heard me."

My father shifted his weight beside me, and I put my hand on his arm.

"Let him finish, Dad. I want to hear it."

Dean laughed, short and ugly, and dragged his hand down his face.

"Seven years," he said. "You never raised your voice once. Do you know how rare that is?"

"I remember."

"The women before you wanted to know where I was every night."

"And I didn't ask."

"You came home, you ate what was there, and you said how was your day."

"I trusted you."

"You were easy," he said. "That's what I'm telling you."

He pointed a thumb back at the church.

"My mother said so the first night she met you. She said, that one won't make trouble."

The parking lot had gone quiet.

A few people had come out onto the church steps with their coats.

None of them were pretending not to listen.

"I didn't plan to hurt you," Dean said. "I planned to keep everyone comfortable."

"And me?"

"You were the one person in my life I never had to manage. Do you understand? I never had to manage you."

"You managed me for seven years."

"No. I didn't have to."

He looked almost hurt.

I realized that he truly believed this was a compliment.

"I wasn't easy, Dean," I said. "I was kind to you."

He didn't answer.

"There's a difference. I let a lot of things go because I thought you were worth it."

"Rosalind..."

"My name is Roz."

His mouth closed.

I watched his lips shape the word and fail.

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