I tip my head toward the sky because we’ve had this conversation more times than I can remember. My gaze catches the red clay-tile roof of our white-painted house. A few tiles that had loosened and blown off during a January storm are still missing. It’s April now. I try to keep up as best I can with stuff around the house, but work has been busy lately, and it’s slipped my mind.
“The roof still needs fixing.” I nod toward our house. The house I was born in. My grandfather’s house, which he left to my dad. Mom never made it to the hospital when I came three weeks early on a cold December night eighteen years ago. On days like today, when I’m reminded that Dad isn’t around anymore to fix these things, I feel cheated. I should’ve had more time with him. Now I just have his old thermos and some missing tiles to remind me he’s gone and never coming back.
Mom turns, squinting at the morning sun as she takes in our house. “I’ll ask Mr. Whitaker to come by. People keep telling me I should just sell it.” A dull pain grows in my chest at the thought of Mom selling the place, but before I can object, she finishes for me. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to part with this house.” She sighs wistfully, sweeping a wayward lock of hair out of her eyes. “Every good thing that ever happened to me happened in this house.”
“I can fix it.” I swallow, my fists clenching around the handle on the lunchbox and the thermos.
“I know you can, my Mr. Fix-It. But you don’t have to. You’ve got enough on your plate already, and I can afford to pay Mr. Whitaker just fine.” She’s referring to the insurance money from the settlement with the driver of the other car. Although it’s nothing major, it’s still a nice chunk of money, and I know she’s keeping it in case I want to go away to school one day, just like Aaron has. But I won’t.
I wasn’t surprised when Aaron told me he was going away to school. He’d wanted to study law since his early teens, so I always figured that he would leave Cannon Beach after graduation. He’s always been super smart. Dennis is, too. I was never book-smart. There’s not a single academic bone in my body. I’m smart about other things, though. Things that involve your hands, like knowing what kind of stone Mr. DiAngelo wants in his driveway or the type of wood that the Caruthers want for their pergola. So, when Jon asked me if I wanted a full-time position at the company, I didn’t hesitate to take it. It made sense. I’d already been working for him all the way through high school during school breaks, anyway.
I love my job. It’s something I look forward to every morning when my alarm goes off. I can be around people without really being around them, if that makes sense. And I can be close to Mom and be here whenever she needs me.
Placing my lunchbox and thermos on the roof of my truck, I open the driver’s side door.
“Don’t be cross with me, Michael.” Mom places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it.
I sigh, my shoulders relaxing under her touch. “I’m not cross, Mom.”
“I just worry about you. That’s all.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Well, I’m your mom, so it’s kinda in my job description.” She chuckles, patting my shoulder.
I turn around and rest my back against the truck, raising an eyebrow at her. I know what’s coming, so I take a deep breath to steady myself. “How are you ever gonna meet a nice young girl when you work all the time? How are you gonna get a girlfriend when you never go anywhere beyond this old town?”
I offer her the same reply that I do every time she starts her Mom Inquisition. “Maybe I don’t want a girlfriend, Mom. Have you ever thought of that? I don’t have time for a relationship right now, and I’m good with that.” I had one girlfriend back in high school, and only because everyone else was dating. It just seemed easier to date instead of dealing with a whole lot of questions I didn’t have the answer to. The truth is, I’ve neverwanteda girlfriend. When Aaron and the other guys in our group of friends would notice stuff like Daniella Riley growing a pair of boobs over the summer break or would moan over Samantha Dudley showing off her tanned stomach in those skimpy tops of hers, I would pretend to be into it, too.
“It’s not either or, sweetie. You can have both, you know.” Then she brightens, excitement dancing in her eyes. “You remember Judith Warner, right? From work?” I roll my eyes. Oh, I remember Judith Warner, all right. She’s the town gossip, and the library where she works with Mom is Gossip Central of Cannon Beach. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Michael Tanner,” Mom scolds me fondly. “Judith is one of the kindest souls I know.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I grin because Judith Warner is many things, but kind isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind. Obnoxious busybody and overbearing know-it-all, yes. But kind? Nah. But Mom seems to like her.
“Well, Judith’s niece, Brenda, is newly single! You remember her, don’t you? She was a year behind you and is a senior now.” Mom beams. I have zero clue who Brenda is, but I just nod because it’s a lot easier. “I’m sure I could get her number for you.”
“Mom, I’m sure Brenda is a nice girl, but I told you I don’t have time.” Where is a mid-size hole in the ground that I can crawl into? Why is there never a hole when you need one? Shit, that sounds way too weird for a Saturday morning. Being set up with a girl you don’t even know is the worst.
She tilts her head, a challenging glimmer in her brown eyes. “Yet you seem to find the time for Dennis.” I just shrug because, yeah, I hang out with Dennis from time to time. All the time, if I’m being honest. “You know, just because Aaron went off to school, doesn’t mean you have to hang out with his little brother so much.”
I sigh, regretting that I couldn’t, just for once, remember my goddamn lunch box. I don’t want to have this conversation with Mom again. It’s exhausting. “I don’t. Den’s got his own friends. We just go hiking sometimes. Besides, I don’t mind hanging out with him. He’s fun.” He is. There’s never a dull moment around Den. At the same time, he doesn’t want anything from me. He doesn’t demand that I hold a conversation I don’t feel like having. If we feel like being quiet on our hikes, we’re quiet. No questions asked.
“I know, Michael. I just wish you had more friends your own age. What happens when Dennis goes off to school?” Her words stir something inside me—a heaviness in my gut—but I shrug it off. He’s only fifteen. But with Aaron already gone, Dennis will eventually leave too. The Holbrook brothers have always been motivated and driven. Cannon Beach would be wasted on Dennis.
“Then he goes off to school. Look, Mom, I’ve gotta go, okay?” I don’t miss the sadness pooling in her eyes. Fuck. I remind myself that she just doesn’t want me to be lonely.
“Sweetie, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know losing your dad at such an early age did—”
“Jeez, Mom! Will you lay off? This has nothing to do with Dad,” I snap. I run my hands over my face and breathe through my frustration, regretting my tone. I slide my hands through my outgrown hair, tucking it behind my ears. “Aside from the fact that I’m now officially late, I’m fine.” I attempt a smile to show I’m not mad at her. I could never be angry at Mom for caring about me. I just wish she’d leave it alone. My life is fine just as it is.
She smiles back, but there’s still a hint of sadness to it. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I know you do.” I lean in and give her a quick hug. “Now, go get someone to take care of those tiles, or I will.” I press a quick kiss against her cheek, the familiar scent ofNiveasurrounding me.
“Right, right. I will.” She sighs, taking a step back, making room for me to get in the truck. “So, you’ll be home for dinner?”
“What are we having?”
“Roasted chicken.” She throws me a knowing look. Roasted chicken is Mom’s ultimate weapon if she wants me to be home for dinner instead of eating out with Dennis.
