Page 43 of Summer Romance

I laugh. “I’ve had a few lessons, but I have a lot to learn. Just here to watch.”

“Ethan taught me and my friends last summer. It used to be like six of us, now it’s a whole thing.”

“I can tell,” I say. Ethan is walking toward us with a little boy on his shoulders. The little boy has his hands in Ethan’s hair and is kneading it like it’s dough. By the time they reach us, his hair is sticking straight up. If he knows, he doesn’t care.

“Hey, Caitlin. You meet Ali?”

“Yep. I think you should teach her to skate.”

“I’m working on it. Let’s see if we can get you in there.” There’s no mention of the human being on his shoulders, like he’s just an appendage. Ethan waves Justin over. “All okay in there?”

“Yeah, first round is over, so some kids should be leaving,” Justin says.

“Nice. Cops are fine. I think you’ve totally managed this thing.”

Justin is beaming, and I have to look away from the intimacy of it. I have the feeling that Ethan has just given him a gift I don’t understand. This is Ethan’s superpower, I think. His ability to meet people where they are and just hold the space for them to step into their best selves without any expectation of what that might be.

I watch as Ethan gives the little boy on his shoulders back to his mother. He says something that makes her laugh. I imagine that being this man all the time feels very, very good.

There’s a feeling in my chest, specifically my heart. It’s a little like gliding down the half-pipe after you’ve let yourself glide up a little bit. It’s both a terror and a thrill to know you could fall.

“Hungry?” he askswhen we’ve locked up the park at seven. We’re alone on the street now and I feel relieved not to have to share him with all those people.

“I am.”

“Good,” he says. He leads Brenda, Ferris, and me down the street, and he takes my hand. I like being out of Beechwood and in a place where it’s okay to look like a couple. I like trying it on, showing off for anyone that passes by: look at me with this wonderful man. “This is going pretty well,” he says.

I squeeze his hand. “I’d say so. I like your life.”

“That was the tip of the iceberg.”

“What else do you do?”

“Well, I run the Halloween dog parade on this street every year.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Dog parade,” I say.

“It’s total chaos, but it’s great. Barb is making a witch costume for Brenda. Ferris would love it. You should come.”You should come.

“Sure,” I say.

We stop at a small restaurant with a red door and two tables outside. The restaurant itself is faced in stone and occupies the corner of a more modern brick building. He opens the door and I step back in time. It’s the smallest restaurant I’ve ever been in, with only six tables—three occupied—and an old wooden bar with four stools. One waiter seems to be managing all of it. His face lights up when he sees Ethan, a reaction I’m starting to expect in Devon.

“Ethan! You didn’t tell me.” He places the tray he’s carrying on the bar and starts to smooth imaginary wrinkles from his shirt.

“This is Ali,” Ethan says. “Ali, this is Jamey. He does everything here but cook.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” I say. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” And I really haven’t. It sort of feels like the Hogans’ house. Something painstakingly crafted and out-of-date that no one would bother building now.

“It’s one of a kind,” Jamey says. “And here forever, thanks to Ethan.”

I turn to Ethan for an explanation. I get none.

“Can you seat two of us for a quick dinner? Outside?” He gestures to the dogs.

“Sure. But they say it’s going to rain.”

“They always say that,” Ethan says. “We’ll take our chances.”

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