“Things like your life!” Holly retorted with a choked laugh. “I’ve seen that bridge. It’s not even open to traffic anymore. Half of it is fenced off. It’s rusted.” She shrugged. “In my opinion, some progress is good.”
Peter shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s not about traffic. It’s…history.”
Vivien loved that he understood that and fought the urge to reach over the table and squeeze his hand in gratitude.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Hey, I get nostalgia, I do. But sometimes holding on is just… holding on. And dangerous. Maybe the thing you should ‘let go’ of is stupid kid memories.”
Vivien swallowed. She could feel a response rising—too big and personal. How did she explain to a perfect stranger that some things mattered because of who you were when you experienced them?
She couldn’t.
Connor’s door creaked open and the young man emerged in nothing but sleep pants and a cast, hair sticking up, eyes half-lidded. “Oh, hi, Vivien.” He brightened at the sight of her, dark eyes exactly like Peter’s squinted with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Oh, honey, she made you cookies.”
“Actually, Jonah did,” Vivien corrected. “And he sends his best. How are you feeling?”
“Two steps from death.” Connor grinned and ran his good hand through slightly shaggy hair, taking her back in time. In fact, he really was a carbon copy of young Peter, Vivien realized. “Jonah’s a beast.”
“Can I get you milk with those?” Holly asked, already up.
To his credit, Connor tried not to smirk or share a look with his dad, but he kind of failed. “Don’t need cookies and milk, Mom. Thanks.” He sat down at the table next to Peter, their equally broad shoulders almost touching. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Some bridge that needs to be torn down for safety’s sake,” Holly answered for him, rising. “If not milk, then water? Lunch? Pain meds? You look pale.”
“A few knocks on death’s door will do that to a guy.” He winked at Vivien, so much like his father that it nearly took her breath away. “It’s a wonder she doesn’t tuck me in.”
“But she thinks about it,” Peter cracked.
“I stopped by the hospital, but you were asleep,” Vivien said. “It’s good to see you up and about.”
“More or less.” He gave a wistful sigh, then added, “Thanks for a fun Fourth of July. I wish I’d have hung out later with my dad to have avoided this nightmare. I had a blast catching a football with an actual NFL player.”
“You’re welcome to hang out anytime you like, Connor,” Vivien said.
“Oh, nobody told me there was an NFL player at this party,” Holly cooed, coming back to the table with milk Connor had not asked for.
“Mom.” He shook his head.
“Enjoy it while you can,” Peter said lightly. “No one’s bringing you cookies and milk when you go back to dental school.”
The mention of it made Connor wince. “I can’t miss one minute of the next semester. Everything depends on it.”
“Wait—who was this NFL player?” Holly demanded. “Is he famous?”
“Not terribly,” Vivien said. “My daughter is dating him.” She almost added that Tessa was Roman’s birth mother, who’d given him up for adoption, but something stopped her. Holly wasn’t part of their inner circle and that was Tessa’s story to tell.
Vivien changed the subject to Connor’s classes and plans, asking questions while Holly fussed. After a few minutes, Vivien stood, taking her glass to the sink and wishing Connor well.
He stood when she did, the same six-feet-plus as his dad, giving her an easy smile. “I’ll probably take you up on the Summer House offer,” he said. “I need sun, water, and...” His voice trailed off.
“No helicopter parents,” Peter supplied, getting to his feet.
Connor looked like he was going to say something else, but let it go. “Thank Jonah for the cookies,” he finished.
“I’ll walk you out,” Peter said.
Holly smiled up at her, reaching for another cookie.
