He stops mid-sentence, so I encouraged him to continue, “And what?”
Shaking his head, he sighs loudly. “I’m grateful for Ethan. I know he’s just a friend, but I like him a lot, Mom. He’s doing so much to help my team win the contest to see the Dodgers, and you know, I just think he’s super cool.”
A voice in my head starts screaming, “Abort! Abort!” It’s warning me to stop what’s going on with me and Ethan before things go so far that he leaves us all with broken hearts.
The selfish side of me doesn’t agree.As long as the kids never guess what’s really going on, what can it hurt to keep seeing Ethan?
I don’t let myself answer that question though, because the truth is, it can hurt everything.
Chapter24
Ethan
It’s early Friday morning, and it’s already shaping up to be a hot day. My parents and I are sipping coffees on the deck overlooking the lake and listening to the occasional call of the local loon population.
Moira wasn’t at work yesterday, so we turned around and had supper at the lodge instead of the diner. My parents didn’t quite know what to make of that, but they went with it.
Happily, my mom hasn’t started in on me about anything yet—like my book, when I’m going to go home and work again, or my complete failure at making her a grandmother. I suspect that’s only because she’s not fully caffeinated.
“How’s the book coming?” my dad asks.
“Really well,” I tell him. “I’ve been making some great progress.”
“Good for you, son,” he says. “Any chance you’ll let me see what you’ve got so far?”
My stomach flips at the thought of letting anyone read what I’ve written. “It’s just a first draft. I’d really like to wait until it’s all done and polished before I let people read it.”
“First drafts are supposed to be terrible.” He knows what he’s talking about. Dad was a talent agent for years and has read more than one manuscript written by a famous actor who felt they had a book in them.Shocker, the number that actually did was surprisingly low.
“You really should let your dad read it,” mom interjects. “Most authors would kill to have someone with his experience give them notes.”
She makes a good point. Even if he tells me I lack any discernible talent, it would be better to know now than to keep wasting my time. “You know what? That sounds good, Dad. Thank you.”
He beams at me. “Just email it to me and I’ll read it on my laptop. Now, don’t let us interrupt you. You took the day off yesterday. Your mom and I can fend for ourselves today.”
Mom nods her head firmly. “We promise to stay out of your way.”
“Actually, I write at the diner,” I tell them. “It’s too quiet for me here.”
“Get going,” Mom says before adding, “We’ll meet you there for lunch.”
I try to look relaxed, but my stomach is doing flip-flops at the thought of my parents meeting Moira. I’ll have to force myself to act nonchalant, so they don’t get any ideas. “That sounds like a plan.”
* * *
Two hours into my book and I’m still not able to focus. Apparently, I can’t go three days away from Moira without totally losing my bearings. I keep looking up to make sure she’s really here.
She’s been busy so we haven’t had a chance to talk much, but when she walks by, we manage to get in an entire conversation, one bit at a time. “I take it Wyatt’s feeling better?” I ask, watching through the diner window as he and the twins race around playing tag in the park across the street.
She pours me a cup of coffee. “Kids bounce back so fast.”
“I’ve missed you,” I tell her quietly. “I thought you might be avoiding me.”
She rests the coffee pot on the table. “I’ve missed you, too.” I feel like she’s on the verge of confessing something more when she suddenly changes topics. “Where are your parents? Don’t tell me they hated it here so much, they took the first plane home.”
Dare to dream. “They’re doing some exploring this morning, but they’ll be here for lunch,” I tell her.
“Why do I suddenly feel nervous?” she asks.