“Anyway…back to Harrison. Sounds like things have changed since last time…”
I stop my cup halfway to my mouth and then put it down. “I like him. Fuck, Arlo, I really like him. I also hate him. He frustrates the hell out of me. He always makes the wrong assumptions, and he thinks he can just drop by and save the day like I’m some kind of damsel in distress.”
“Sounds like you’re afraid to feel those feelings.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”
He gives me a look that dares me to challenge his conclusion. I groan, resting my head in my hands. “We’re so different, and we spend most of our time arguing. How can we make it last? I’m tired of hookups and short-lived relationships.”
“Maybe you should take it one day at a time, Fletch. You don’t have to have everything figured out. I’m sure if you want Harrison to back off on the Fran subject, he will. Give it time.”
“Yeah.”
“And maybe speak to Fran about your concerns. You don’t have to do everything she says just because of your ridiculous agreement. Don’t be afraid to put her in her place. She’s been absent out of choice, not out of need.”
“I know…I know…”
I finish my coffee and stare at the empty cup. I owe Harrison an apology.
“Hey, Arlo, could you take George with you? I’ll pick him up later.”
He gives me a smug grin that I want to slap off his face.
George all but runs to Arlo’s car, given the option to go play with his friends. I finish my shopping list because I’m definitely coming back home tonight and having dinner with George.
As Arlo says, we need to take things slowly. If Harrison forgives me for being a dick, I might kiss him…a lot, but then I’ll go to the grocery store before I pick George up.
I’m about to leave when my phone rings and Fran’s name pops up.
“Hey.”
“Fletch. I was wondering if you want to come over for dinner tonight,” she says.
“I can’t. I’m about to go shopping and George is with his friends.”
“That’s perfect. You can pick up a few things for me. I’ll cook you this lamb recipe I got from a friend. You think George could stay over at his friends for the night?”
What the hell?
“No, Fran. I can’t just…” I bite my tongue to keep the words I want to say from spilling out. “I can’t just drop George on someone like that without warning. And why would I do that?”
“We have a lot of things to discuss about the move to Europe.”
I curl my hands into tight fists as she carries on.
“Some things we shouldn’t discuss in front of George, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m glad we agree on that. Can you please stop talking to George about moving to Europe?Ifthis happens, it’ll only be after the school year ends, so there’s no point in destabilizing his routine.”
There. I said it.
“What do you meanifthis happens? Fletcher, we had an agreement.” Her voice goes up a notch, and my stomach drops. This is exactly the kind of confrontation I didn’t want with her.
“Fran, George is seven. He’s still in school, so he can’t travel around every time you decide you’re moving to a new country. His education needs to come first.”
“I know that. That’s why I’m enrolling him in one of the best schools in London.”
“Raising a kid isn’t just about what kind of school they go to. Are you going to be there to take him to school and pick him up? Are you going to organize play dates and after-school activities?”
