I just nod, but I feel a small pinch of pride.
“When you eat cheap growing up,” I tell him, “you find your own ways of adding a little gourmet to it.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds but follows with a quiet, “Yeah.”
I’m not sure if that means he’s just listening attentively or agreeing with me. If he’s found out my last name, he must know who my father is. Everyone in town knows Chip Hadley, so he would have an idea of how we lived.
I don’t know much about Cole’s family, though, or if they’ve always lived in this town. Pike Lawson isn’t wealthy, but he’s certainly not poor by the looks of his house.
“It’s really good. I mean it,” he says again.
“Thanks.” I turn around and place a plate on the island perpendicular to his seat for Cole and my own at the stool next to that one.
We fall silent, and I wonder if he feels weird, too. We talked so easily the other night when we didn’t know who the other one was, but it’s changed now.
I hear movement from the living room and glance around to see Cole coming into the kitchen. I smile. He has grease all over his shirt already and a streak under his lip. He can misbehave like it’s his job, but he can also flaunt some boyish charm like nobody’s business.
He grabs the hamburger off his plate in one hand and tucks some dirty, rusted car part under his arm, tipping his chin at me. “Hey, babe. We’re working on your VW. You don’t mind if I eat outside, do you?”
I stare at him.
Is he serious? I shoot my eyes between him and his father. “Yes,” I reply quietly, trying to say more with my eyes. I don’t want to eat alone with his dad.
“Come on.” Cole cocks his head, trying to work me with his playful expression. “I can’t just leave them out there. You could come and sit outside with us.”
Gee, thanks. I purse my lips and turn back to the refrigerator, yanking out the pitcher of lemonade. It’s rude to just leave. His father’s not our meal ticket. I should make some effort to get to know him.
But before I can tell Cole to just go and eat outside, his father speaks up. “Why don’t you sit down for ten minutes? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Relief hits me, and I’m thankful for the backup. I finally hear Cole release a breath and the legs of one of the island stools scrape across the tile as he takes a seat in front of his plate.
I make sure the oven is off, grab my drink, and follow Cole’s father as he sits down, leaving the seat between him and Cole empty. I take it, reaching over the island and pulling my plate to me.
“So, how’s work?” Mr. Lawson asks, and I assume he’s talking to Cole.
Cole’s right hand finds my thigh as he uses his left to lift the burger to his mouth, and I glance at his father, seeing his eyes downcast and looking at Cole’s hand on me. His jaw flexes as he looks back up.
“It’s work.” Cole shrugs. “It’s a lot easier now that the weather has warmed up, though.”
Cole’s been doing road construction since we moved in together about nine months ago. He’s gone through a lot of jobs since I’ve known him, but this one has lasted.
“Thinking any more about college?” his dad probes.
But Cole just scoffs. “It took everything I had to finish high school. You know that.”
I raise the lemonade to my lips and take a sip, my tight stomach and not wanting food at the moment. Cole’s father chews and sets his burger down, lifting his bottle next.
“Time moves a lot faster than you think it will,” he replies quietly, almost to himself. “I almost joined the Navy when I found out…” But he trails off, finishing instead, “when I was eighteen.”
But I think I know what he was going to say. When I found out I was going to be a dad. Pike Lawson doesn’t look old enough to be the father of a grown son, so he had to have been pretty young when Cole was born. No more than eighteen or nineteen himself. Which would put him at thirty-eight? Give or take?
“I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I was giving up seven years of my life,” he goes on. “But seven years came and went pretty fast. Securing a good future takes an investment and a commitment, Cole, but it’s worth it.”
“Was it for you?” his son shoots back, tearing off a bite of burger, his hand lightly squeezing the inside of my thigh. It’s a subtle gesture I actually love despite the building tension in the room. It’s his way of letting me know he might be angry, but he’s not angry with me, and he hates that I’m probably uncomfortable right now.
Cole’s father takes a drink from his bottle and calmly sets it back down, his tone now harder. “Well, I’ve had the money to bail you out of jail,” he points out. “Last time. And the time before that.”
Cole’s hand tightens around my thigh, and my neck is so hot all of a sudden that I wish I had a hair tie. A thousand questions whirl around my head. Why don’t they get along? What happened? Cole’s dad seems okay, from what little I know about him, but Cole has erected a wall between them, and his dad has almost as short of a fuse as his son.