Page 51 of The Best of Us

“They are. And he does. And I do.” Constantine and his mega-punctuated short answers were slowing down my packing.Give the kid a little more than that.

Colin wasn’t just getting a father, he was getting a whole new family.Don’t cry again. Save that for later. For bed.Was I really sleeping in his bed later?Well, not his-his.Shit, I’m losing the plot.

“Your other sister . . . that’s, um, I’m really sorry about that.”

No response.

Oh no.Was that the sister Constantine had alluded to when we spoke yesterday?

“You were in the Navy.”

“Yes.”

“Ever been on a submarine?”

“More times than I can count.”

“Ever think about my mom after that night, or was it just sex for you?”

Okayyyy, that’s enough.I rushed into the hall to save Constantine from our son’s version of twenty questions. “I just need my stuff from the bathroom, and we’re good to go.”

Colin glared at me for interrupting his Scottish (now half Sicilian) Inquisition. Whereas his father met my eyes with a silent thank-you for coming to his rescue.

A smile crossed my lips—my version ofyou’re welcome—then I hurried up and finished getting my stuff together before our son had a chance to throw another wild curveball at the man.

Chapter15

Juliette

I fiddledwith the radio as Constantine pulled into traffic, landing on a song that had my fingers going still.

A country worship song playing. The lyrics were about forgiveness and redemption. Based on Constantine’s white-knuckled grip of the wheel as the words were belted out, it was best that I just turned off the radio.

I rested my hands in my lap as an awkward silence filled the space, and it stayed that way for a few blocks until Colin came to the rescue, breaking it.

“You ever return that locket I bought Mom?”

“No.”

“What are you planning to do with it?”

Constantine checked his rearview mirror before changing lanes. “I’ll have you give it to her as planned on her birthday next weekend.”

“No, I can’t accept that.” I waved my hand between our seats.

“You can and you will.” His authoritative tone wasn’t lost on me.

Colin poked his head between our seats. “Good.”

“How’s your eye? Looks like it’s getting swollen.” My question sent Colin backward, stealing my chance to get a better look at him.

“Stop being such a nurse. I’m fine,” he complained.

“I’m being a mom.” My hands settled back on my lap as I gave up on nurse-momming him for the time being.

“Can you turn the radio back on?” Colin asked a moment later. “If not, I’m going to start asking more questions.”

Constantine beat me to the controls and turned on a pop station. “This good?”

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