Well, he can wonder about thesituationall he wants.
23
I focusedon edits for the greater part of the afternoon, trying to block out every other thought I could have obsessed over. I can’t understand why Ace would fight so hard for me when years have gone by, where I questioned whether we were only roommates with the occasional benefits he desired.
I’m not happy Ace involved Brett, or that Brett is convinced things were more serious between Ace and me than they were. The topic of getting married hadn’t come up in almost a year because I stopped asking, so for Brett to think I walked away from an upcoming proposal means Ace must have made it sound like that’s what I did. Ace has the ability to lay the charm on thick to anyone, especially since he works in sales. He can only fool people for so long. Unless it’s me who turneda blind eye to the reality of our situation.
"Melody," Mom shouts from the bottom of the stairwell. Her voice sounds muffled as it travels through my closed bedroom door. I place my laptop down on the bed and poke my head out into the hallway, finding her with a spatula in one hand and a whisk in the other. "Dinner will be ready in a minute."
People have been sending us ready-to-eat meals from local restaurants thanks to Erin Daniels’ kind efforts, but Mom has been freezing them and cooking, anyway. I know it’s her therapy, but she hardly eats what she makes. We sit down at the table and she stares at her food, poking at it with a fork until she takes one measly bite.
I’ve tried to tell her it isn’t necessary for her to cook a full dinner like this every night, but I stopped mentioning it after her last stern reminder of, cooking clears her mind.
"How are your edits?" Mom asks.
"Not too bad. I’m adapting a novel for a film-script form. It’s going well."
"That’s good," she says. I’m not sure she heard anything I said, but I appreciate her asking. "I thought you might have worked at the shop a little longer today after getting a ride from Brett. I didn’t expect to see you home so early."
Her gaze is stuck on the portion of raviolis she’s sweeping from one side of her plate to the other. "It was one of those days, I guess," I say, avoiding the drawn-out truth about today’s events.
Mom places her fork down on her plate. "Do you hear something?"
I stop chewing to listen. There’s a clanging sound coming from outside. "Sounds like someone’s outside. Maybe someone is shoveling next door."
"I don’t think we’d hear someone shoveling from this far away," Mom says, staring off to the side, appearing to focus on the sound. The nearest house is about an acre away, but when snow is covering the roads, everything echoes a little more.
"I’ll go check," I tell her, placing my fork and knife down.
I peek out the side window next to the front door, spotting a probing light under the hood of Dad’s truck.What in the world?I slip my boots on and grab my coat from the hook. "There’s nothing to worry about, Mom. I’ll be right back."
"Well, who’s out there?" she asks.
Rather than answer, I make it seem like I didn’t hear her as I close the door behind me. "What are you doing?" I call out from the top step.
"Changing your battery," he replies.
I chug down the snow-covered steps and drag my boots through the thick snow. "You don’t have to do this.”
"I told you I would," he replies.
"Where is Parker?" I ask, cupping my hand over my eyes to avoid the glare from his truck’s headlights at the end of the driveway.
"In the truck, playing a game on my phone," he says.
I walk past Brett and up to the driver’s side of his truck. I open the door and welcome the rush of heat spilling out, creating a fog against the cold air. "Parker, do you want to come inside while your dad works on the truck?" I ask her.
She lifts her gaze from the phone and offers me a shy smile. "Okay," she says, climbing over the center console, wearing a royal blue tutu.
"I love that color," I tell her, reaching my arms out to help her down from the truck.
"Me too. It’s one of my favorite colors," she says.
Her boots are shorter than the height of the snow, so I hold her up on my hip. "I’m taking Parker inside," I inform Brett.
Brett flashes his light toward us. "She was okay. The truck is on and heated. I’m right here."
"Well, we’re going to hang out inside instead," I tell him.
