“Fran, I thought we decided to not talk to George about Europe.”
“Youdecided. I’m his mother, and I want to prepare him for life in Europe. So yeah, we’ve been talking about it.”
I try not to let her patronizing tone get to me. “He had a meltdown this morning and didn’t want to go to school because he’s changing schools.”
“Well, he’s not wrong. Maybe he should spend time with his grandparents and with you. That would be more important, don’t you agree?”
I groan. “Not at the expense of his education, Fran.”
“Don’t worry so much, hun. If you’re worried, you know what to do. Pack your bags and come with us. There’s plenty of room at our place.”
I grip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn white.
“Please, Fran. This is a difficult time for him. Don’t make it worse.”
“How can you say that? I’m making it better. He’s going to have all the opportunities I never had growing up. He’s going to meet loads of people, see new places. It’s going to be the adventure of his life.”
I know there’s no way to convince her, so I end the call after pleading once more for her to keep Europe talk to a minimum.
Her single-mindedness was something I found attractive when we met. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have experienced half of the things we did together in the early years. The problem is there was no balance. No downtime. And if there’s one thing I know about George, it’s that he needs his downtime.
Before I set the phone aside, I drop Harrison a message, asking him to meet me for lunch.
By the time we meet at Bittersweet, I’m a ball of nerves. Even Julius refuses to sell me coffee and makes me chamomile tea instead.
I get up from my seat and hug Harrison when he approaches the table I grabbed for us outside.
“Hey. What’s up?” He holds me tight, one of his hands massaging the back of my neck.
“Just…I don’t know…everything. It’s this video crap, and George had a meltdown this morning. Anyway, let’s eat. We still need to go through the list for the fair before you go back to the office.”
“Shh, calm down, Fletcher. There’s no rush. We can catch up properly, okay?”
I nod. “I really want an egg and bacon sandwich, and Julius better give me coffee this time, or I’ll crack his nut sack open.”
“Okay, Rambo,” Harrison says, chuckling.
We place our orders, which Julius brings out and then sits with us to discuss the list of things to do for the fair.
As we work through the plans, and even when we go our separate ways after lunch, I can’t shake off the coldness that runs through me every time I think about how Harrison hasn’t once called me baby, or any other sweet name, since we talked about the possibility of me going to Europe.
It’s as if he’s slowly withdrawing from me so it doesn’t hurt as much when we end things.
What he doesn’t realize is that it’s already too late. I’m already broken because whether I lose my son or the best relationship of my life, I’m still losing.
And the fact that he’s trying to protect us both only makes me want him even more.
I’m staring at my canvas, lost in thought, when my phone rings with an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Fletcher, it’s Pete. Are you sitting down?”
My stomach drops, and I find the nearest stool.
“I am.”
“My team has been watching the video for clues. Yesterday, one of the guys made a comment about the tattoo the guy in the video has above his ankle. It seems no one noticed it because it’s not clear on the video unless you’re looking for it. I have to ask you—”
