"Mom, can I have a third hot dog?" Ethan asks, ketchup already smeared across his chin.
"You haven't finished the second one yet." I hand him a napkin, and he wipes his face with it then balls it up and shoves it in his pocket. "Eat what you have and then we'll see." This kid must be about to go through a growth spurt for as much as he's eating, and I hope it slows down. If he keeps eating like this, it'll double my grocery budget.
"Where's Caleb?" He cranes his neck and looks around the party as he crams food into his mouth. Then with a mouthful he says, "He said he'd be here."
"He'll find us. He probably got held up somewhere." I take a bite of someone's potato salad, but I’m curious too, still watching everyone walking around. There are so many people out here, I'd say our neighbors invited people not from this neighborhood, which isn't a bad thing. It just makes me nervous to let Ethan out of my sight. With Derek' s threats, I'm sure he'd find some way to say I'm irresponsible for letting Ethan play.
"Tyler brought his nerf gun and his mom said he can use it in the yard. Can I go play when I'm done?"
"Which yard?"
"Tyler's, right there." He points at the house three doors down where a group of boys run through the open gate, shrieking and shooting foam darts. I watch them, counting heads. Four kids, all Ethan's age, all within sight of parents in the driveway. But I'm already cringing as my boy takes the last bite of his hot dog. Suddenly, the idea of a third one has vanished and he'd rather play.
My chest gets tight with the thought of letting my boy slip away, but I don't want to live in that fear. This is his only childhood, and controlling him because his father is a total jerk isn't fair to him.
"Stay in the front yard where I can see you," I tell him, "and don't go past the Garcias' house or cross the street. If you need me, I'll be right here."
"Got it." He shoves the last bite of hot dog into his mouth, grabs his plate, then runs for the trash can. He misses and theplate hits the ground, but he picks it up. When he's disposed of it properly, he sprints toward Tyler's house with his arms pumping.
I watch him disappear through the gate and my chest tightens. Ethan needs to run and play and be a kid, and I need to let him without making my anxiety his problem. He's safe, and I have to remind myself that five times, though it kills my appetite.
I pick at my potato salad and watch Helen walk over carrying a glass of lemonade and a plate piled with coleslaw and cornbread. She sits down beside me and gestures at the party with her lemonade. Helen is not from this neighborhood, but she's close friends with Mrs. Baker, so I’m not shocked to see her here.
"There are so many people out here," she says, surveying the crowd. "Can you believe how much food there is?" I'm grateful to have someone to keep me company and distract me from worrying, but God, I wish Ethan would stay closer to me with this large of a crowd.
"I'm stuffed… Don't think I can eat another bite." I nod toward the cornhole tournament where two dads argue about a scoring call. "Have you played a game of cornhole yet?" I ask, and she snickers.
"Oh, I'm not really one to play games. I much prefer conversation." Helen takes a bite of cornbread and brushes crumbs off her lap, then the conversation lulls a while. I look off where Ethan's shouts come from, still feeling a bit anxious but not as bad as before. Then Helen says, "I was thinking about the festival in the fall, the one the Chamber puts on downtown in September. I want to run a booth for the boutique. We could set up a pop-up shop with seasonal inventory, maybe some accessories and candles."
"That would be incredible, Helen. The foot traffic alone would be worth it." Speaking with her distracts me a little. The Chamber Festival would be a great business opportunity and I feel honored that she'd talk with me about this ahead of time. I didn't realize she trusts me this much.
"That's what I thought. And I'd want you running it." She points her fork at me. "You're better with customers than I am and you know the inventory better than anyone. I'd handle the logistics and you'd handle the people."
"I'd love that." After the negativity of the past few months, this bit of confidence in my abilities is a huge ego boost. Helen has no idea how much that kind of faith means to me right now.
"We'd need a tent, a couple of display racks, and about two hundred dollars' worth of signage," Helen says, pulling her phone out and opening a notes app. "I'll start pricing it out next week. If we commit by next week, we can get the early registration discount."
"Put me down for whatever you need." I take a sip of my water. "I can design the signage too. Ethan has a tablet with a drawing app, and I've gotten pretty good at making flyers for his school events."
Helen laughs and starts typing notes into her phone while I take another bite of food. Neighbors I've known for ten years stop by and chat, asking about Ethan, complimenting the food, making plans for the fireworks later this week. That's a bit of a shock after the way Derek destroyed my friendships with some of them following the divorce, but it feels good to be getting back to normal now.
When a shadow drifts across the grass, I look up to see Caleb standing over us with a beer in one hand and a lemonade in the other. He holds the lemonade out to me, and I take it, grinning up at him.
"You found us," I say.
"You weren't hard to find." He sits down, and I lean in and peck him on the cheek. Helen watches and it makes my cheeks warm. But I refuse to keep my relationship a secret anymore.
"Caleb, you remember Helen," I say, gesturing between them, "my boss."
"Mrs. Jones." He nods at her. "Good to see you again."
"Good to see you too, Caleb." Helen sets her plate down and dusts hands. "How are you settling in? Olivia's told me how you moved here."
"Oh, this woman right here is helping me out. She's pretty incredible, you know." He flicks a crumb off my face with his thumb, but that smile is still hiding. He's still so serious, but at least he's not grumpy anymore.
"She's a good woman," Helen says, winking.
"You should try the cornbread," I tell Caleb, changing the subject before Helen jumps in with town gossip, which she's been known to do. "Mrs. Garcia made it and it's incredible."
