Dad slid into his standard chair at the table. “That’s a relief to hear.”
Mom’s smile was hesitant. “I could tell the news bothered you.”
“I might have to come around more so you can update me.”
“I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’m always afraid I’m bugging you with my calls.”
“No, don’t ever worry about that. I was working all weekend, so that’s why I didn’t answer your texts right away.” I almost drew out my phone to show thempictures of the table and chairs that were en route to their owner, but I hadn’t taken any. Damn. “So, how much do you have to do before Rhys is the official owner?”
Would they need my help with any of it?
“He told us not to bother with the painting or any remodeling,” Dad said. “He’ll do what he wants to the place.”
Mom’s expression turned wistful. “I get so much joy thinking about this house being filled with kids’ laughter again. Can you imagine? He has two girls. Pink everywhere.”
Dad leaned back in his chair and propped a hand on the back of Mom’s. “Girls these days don’t only like pink.”
“Well.” Mom shrugged but didn’t lose that wistful expression. “I’ll be grateful that this place can have energy within its walls again.”
The sense of failure hit deep. Mom and Dad had wanted a vibrant home full of grandkids. They’d wanted both sons alive and well, and they only had one son who was alive and for so long hadn’t been well.
Mom waved her hand through the air like she was scattering away the happy images she’d just painted with Rhys and his girls in the house. “Anyway, you said you wanted to talk?”
Tension cramped my stomach, making the hot coffee sear the lining. “Yeah, I did.” I took another sip and embraced the burn all the way down. Ordinarily, especially after what Mom had said, this would be good news. But I didn’t know how they’d interpret it. “I’m... seeing someone.”
Both parents blinked at me. Dad set his cup downwith a thunk, a crease forming in his forehead. Mom continued to blink, her lips turning down.
“It’s not Jackie, is it?” Dad asked. He held both his hands up. “I mean, I’m sure she’s nice and all, it’s just that?—”
“It’s Summer,” Mom uttered quietly, her gaze dropping to the table. It wasn’t a leap for her to make the connection. “You and Summer have started seeing each other.”
I dipped my head down as sheer relief flashed across Dad’s face, followed by a furrowed brow and a slight frown.
“Summer Kerrigan?” Dad asked, like he wanted to make damn sure he was correct before forming an opinion.
“Yes.”
“You two got close when she was stranded at your place?” he asked, perplexed.
“Uh, no, not like you’d think.” Grateful I had a chance to explain that I wasn’t a creep who’d swooped in on a brokenhearted bride, I explained. “She came out again a few weeks later to bring me some groceries for the storm. She doesn’t think I eat enough fresh produce.”
Mom grunted her agreement. She’d rarely seen inside my fridge, but she also dropped off garden staples at regular intervals. I’d thought she’d been using the delivery excuses to snoop on me, but based on Summer’s reaction, no, Mom’d had the same worry.
Maybe I would’ve gotten fucking scurvy without either of them interfering.
“She got stranded again,” I continued. “I didn’t know she was coming and slipped on a puddle of water, andshe stayed to make sure I was okay. By the time I reassured her I was fine, the wind picked up and she was stuck. Again.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed, reminding me of when Eli and I were kids and the tractor that had just been fixed broke down. Dad had thought we were up to hijinks, but both me and Eli had been cutting hay and behaving, for once.
“Oh. That’s... nice.” Mom pondered her coffee. “She always was a nice girl.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say. “We realize that people will remember she and Eli were a thing.” I wouldn’t mention the breakup. My parents had been through enough. “We’re taking it slow, but eventually we’ll be seen together and people will know.”
“That you and her are a thing?” Mom’s lips pressed together. “She’s only two months out from her wedding.”
Barely. “I know.” I had no argument. People might say horrible shit about Summer for moving on so quickly.
“Then slow is prudent.” Mom’s reassuring smile crinkled the corners of her eyes but didn’t reach the irises. “You’re happy?”
