Page 77 of Goode Tidings

"What if he thinks of everything you did, and he's grateful?"

She looks at me. Tears gather at her lower lash line. "I don't know why I'm so hard on myself. Sometimes I feel like if I loosen my grip, even a little, it might all fall apart."

"What might fall apart?"

"Everything. I quit my job because I couldn't stay and be a person who allowed someone to steal my work. But I considered it, Callum. I thought about the steady paycheck. The percentage I set aside every two weeks for Oliver's college fund. I have a little cushion right now because a family in Phoenix is renting my house and I'm not paying anything to stay at the cabin, but pretty soon I'll have to start working again."

"For a company you don't want to work for?"

"It's not that I don't want to; it's that I don't love it. I guess it's naïve to want to love what you do."

"I'm sure some people can do something they dislike and not care, but I don't think it's the same for creatives. How will you create if your heart isn't in it?"

"I can churn out ditsy florals and étoile and gingham and be fine." Eden sniffs again, though the tears have receded.

"What about going into business for yourself?"

She blinks back at me, dumbfounded. "What? No. Too much risk."

"Is it?"

She nods her head firmly. "Yes."

"If only you knew someone who's done it before. Oh, wait." My smile is smug. I can feel it.

"This is different," Eden insists. "I have to sell actual product. You sell clicks. And advertising space."

"And hope," I remind her. Because it's true. At the end of the day, my product is hope. The advertising is how I pay for the hope I'm peddling. "Just keep an open mind. Will you promise me that?"

Eden surveys me. I wonder what she's thinking when she looks at me like that, pensive and wistful. "Sure," she finally answers. "I promise to keep an open mind."

"Good." I nod at her, leaning some of my weight onto a forearm on the table between us. "Now, tell me you're a good mom."

"What?" Eden's eyes drop from mine, her fingers curling around her cup.

I lean further over the table, using two fingers from my other hand under her chin, urging her gaze upward. She doesn't fight me like I thought she might. Big, warm brown eyes blink at me, a drop of moisture caught in the fringe. "Say it," I murmur. I'm being a little bossy, but I mean well.

Eden's tongue darts out to lick at her upper lip. "I'm a good mom."

The pad of my thumb drifts over the skin beneath her lower lip. "You have to mean it."

This makes Eden smile. Not a big grin, but it's enough for now. "I mean it."

My hand returns to my cup. I think we both realize how far we've slanted over the table, and straighten up.

"What do you think of this giant winter storm headed our way?" Eden asks, glancing outside as she finishes her drink. Apparently, we've covered enough deep topics for one day, and we're switching over to the weather.

I tap the bottom edge of my cup on the tabletop. My pulse hasn't returned to a manageable tempo. "How many times have the meteorologists called for rain in Phoenix and it ended up being a few drops?"

Eden's head tips sideways, lips pressing together. "Often."

I make a gesture with open arms like I'm saying there you have it.

CHAPTER 37

Callum

Should I eat crow now, or later? Maybe I'll ask Eden if she can teach me how to prepare it.