“Don’t be. We’ll be all right. I miss my dad terribly, and I don’t blame him for it. He didn’t intend for this to happen. I really should have branched out on my own a lot sooner. I’ve always worked for him, all through college too, and now I’ll get a chance to search for work for the first time, to go to my first job interview. We found a cheap phone plan and bought these flip phones that are much less distracting than smart phones. I’ll be car shopping as soon as I can afford one. It will be a great learning experience. All of it.”
Edward frowned. She could tell by his fidgeting that he was already in fix-it mode, wanting to erase all the mistakes of the past for her. But nobody could do that. All they could do was move forward.
“What about insurance? Did your dad have life insurance?”
“His twenty-year term policy had just ended. They had an appointment to meet with someone to get a new policy, but…” She shrugged. “It didn’t happen in time.”
“What sort of business did he own?” he asked. “What did you major in? Sorry, I’m being nosy.”
“No, it’s all right. It was a courier business, and I was a receptionist. Sometimes I did deliveries too. And I majored in business communications.” She’d once dreamed of branching off and becoming a business consultant, but that was back when she thought she knew everything. Life was teaching her she’d need a lot more experience first.
She was afraid he’d offer to help her look for work, or worse, think she was fishing for that, so she quickly asked. “What about you? Why’d you come to Datefield?”
“For a relationship.” He looked down at the couch where he was tracing imaginary lines in the leather. He didn’t elaborate further, like whether he was still in the relationship, but not answering was its own kind of confirmation.
“Oh.” She felt like an idiot for sitting here with him, imposing on him, confiding in him, for allowing Marianne to monopolize his evening in the first place.
He put his hand out and covered hers, as if he knew she’d been about to bolt. “My situation is really complicated, and I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. As a friend, I’m asking you to not share what I just said with anyone, not even Marianne.”
Elinor blinked and tried not to panic. What did that even mean? He hadn’t really said anything worth repeating. Complicated could mean anything. Her relationship with chocolate was complicated. What wasn’t complicated these days? “Are you married?”
“No.”
He held her gaze, as if encouraging her to ask more. This was so weird, but everything about him up until now had invited trust, so she’d lend him a little more. For now.
“Have you been married before?”
“No.”
“Do you have children?”
“No.”
She laughed nervously. “I have to admit, this is the strangest game of twenty questions I’ve ever played.”
“That makes two of us.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Let me just put it this way. No one would be brokenhearted if I fell in love, but that doesn’t mean I’m free.”
Elinor took a last sip of her Cherry Seven-Up. Okay, then. “I’d better get back. Good night, friend.” She got up and went to the door, trying to act casual about it and not like she planned to avoid him at all cost in the future. He followed and opened it for her, looking unhappy. She wasn’t fooling either of them.
