Meet Me Where the Oak Tree Grows novel Chapter 54

"That year, Dad had just come back from the army. He was twenty-three, five years older than Mom. Despite the age gap, Mom loved books, and Dad had been around the block. They hit it off, chatting away on the bus like old friends. Even when Mom confessed she had tricked him, he just laughed it off, calling her clever. One was bold, the other kind-hearted; one ready to follow, the other ready to take her in.

"They worked in a factory together, ran a small stall, and even collected recyclables. Slowly but surely, they fell for each other and decided to get hitched, but they lacked the right paperwork. Mom suggested they just shack up, but Dad wasn't having any of it. He took his savings and went to her hometown, sorting out her papers and cutting ties with her past.

"They tied the knot officially with a simple ceremony. Afterward, Dad drove a taxi for a while, and Mom got a gig teaching at a small rural school. Life was tough, but it had its sweet moments.

"When I came along, Dad was a cop, and Mom juggled looking after me with running small businesses. We weren't living in luxury, but we had a steady income. Funny story—during my birth, it was a tough labor. Dad, a big, tough guy, burst into the delivery room when he heard Mom's cries, yelling at the doctors to save her. He said they didn’t need the baby.

"The doctor reassured him, saying the baby was doing fine and couldn't just be left behind.

Jonah's tone was light and funny, and I laughed through my tears.

"If there was a downside, it was that Dad never showed up at my school events. I took Mom's last name, and the 'father' section on forms was always blank. He never took photos, and back then, they couldn't even afford a wedding photo.

"Over time, Dad got busier, sometimes gone for months. Nosy neighbors, who couldn’t stand to see Mom happy, mocked her, hinting Dad had someone else. When asked about his job, he never gave a straight answer. Just as I was about to lose faith, Mom kept believing he wouldn’t betray her.

"Then, one year, Dad came home on a stretcher after being shot. That’s when we started to realize his job wasn’t ordinary. During his six-month recovery, he never directly told me what he did. Instead, he taught me to recognize poppies and other flowers, drilling into me the importance of spotting plant drugs and destroying them on sight.'"