“I texted Connor after lunch, to let her know I would need to be picked up,” Mom was saying to Calum and Harper. “I figured I’d occupied enough of your time, Calum.”
“Mom, don’t be silly. I would have driven you home.”
“What, you aren’t happy to see me?” I teased, coming to a stop near the table everyone was loitering at.
“Of course I am, Pip.” Calum ruffled my hair affectionately. “Asher, this is your aunt, Connor.”
“Hey! It’s so great to meet you.” I smiled, my eyes misting at the little boy. Moving my attention to Harper, I took a breath. “Hi, Harper, it’s good to see you again too.” I threw my arms around Harper in a brief but warm hug. I didn’t want her thinking we all hated her for her choices.
“It’s good to see you too,” Harper replied before I stepped back, my eyes going to Asher again.
“I can’t believe how much he looks like you, Cal!” I exclaimed, shaking my head. It was almost eerie.
Asher beamed at the comparison, puffing his little chest out importantly. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” he said.
“I bet you have,” I giggled, amused by his aloofness.
“Well, I need to get dinner started,” Mom said. She didn’t want to leave, and neither did I, but we both figured Cal wanted to spend some time alone with them. We said our goodbyes as Mom picked up her stack of paperbacks and a box from the café.
When we walked out to the sidewalk, Mom was beaming. “He is the sweetest thing,” she said, tears of happiness welling in her eyes. She wiped them away quickly, still smiling, and laughed a little. “He reminds me so much of your brother at that age. Such a beautiful child.”
“He’s a miniature Cal, for sure.” I smiled, feeling remorseful for missing out on the afternoon getting to know him.
“We’ve been invited to his birthday party on Saturday,” Mom said as I fished the keys out of my pocket and hit unlock. “They’re having it at the bookstore.”
“Oh, sounds fun.” I wonder if Dare and Evan were invited. “Do you want to drive?”
“Sure, sweetie. Is everything okay? You’re looking a little pale.”
“I’m always a little pale, Mom,” I pointed out, looking at her equally fair complexion. She arched a delicate brow at me and opened her door, climbing into the SUV. I was about to follow suit—had my door open and everything—when I noticed the waitress from the diner was across the road walking with a little boy. Her eyes landed on me before going to the vehicle I was about to climb in.
She frowned, turned, and started walking faster down the street, ushering the little boy along with her.
I finished climbing in the SUV, pulling my door shut behind me, my thoughts still on the waitress and the notable way she’d reacted with tension to me, not once but twice. And the little boy she was with, I couldn’t exactly see the details of his face—but I’d caught the blondish hue of his hair.
My stomach rolled uneasily. I buckled up, realizing a little too late that Mom was speaking to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that…”
Mom looked at me, a concerned frown on her face. She put her hand on my arm. “Is everything okay, Connor?”
“Yes, Mom. Everything’s fine.” I turned my head to look at her, and also through the back window. I caught sight of the waitress and the little boy disappearing into a door beside a convenience store not that far from the diner and Harper’s bookstore. “I’m just tired, and…overwhelmed, I guess.”
Overwhelmed with secrets. Each minute that past, they felt heavier.
“Want to talk about it?” Mom asked, sending me an understanding smile.
“Mystery boy is…” I trailed off, biting my tongue. “Not wanting to remain a mystery any longer.”
“What’s wrong with that? Do you not want us to meet him?”
“I know Dad won’t approve of him,” I replied, dejected.
“Why wouldn’t he approve? Is this mystery boy a good person?”
“Yes, but he’s a little older,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. We were still parked, and an eerie sensation hit me: it felt like someone was watching us. “Plus, Dad’s been in a foul mood since Cal got home.”
A sigh escaped Mom’s lips, and she nodded. “I think the mood comes from the missteps he knows he’s been taking. He can’t seem to help himself. His hurt goes deep and it comes across as anger, even when it isn’t.” She hesitated for a moment, glancing at me. “How much older, Connor? We’re not talking college professor older?”
“Hell no!” I exclaimed. I knew I couldn’t tell her his exact age, because she’d likely put two and two together. I started laughing, shaking my head. “He isnotmy professor.”
