Page 33 of Don't Regret Me
When they stopped at her car, she opened her mouth to say goodbye, but something very different came out.
“How do you feel about board games?”
15
NICK
Nick had no business standing in the doorway of Elizabeth’s house while her kids jumped all over her in what he assumed were hugs. But his good decision making had long since fled. For the moment, he wasn’t the still-married movie star, the one who only recently learned he wouldn’t be a father after all.
He wasn’t broken, missing pieces of himself.
A smile curved his lips when Evelyn stepped in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
Owen stayed silent, but his stare was accusation enough. Nick assumed they’d all become friends when they ate together. He’d never been good with kids, never understood them. Maybe he’d read the entire situation wrong.
“Mom doesn’t need you.” Evelyn knew where to cut to make the deepest wound.
Something about the fierce protectiveness in her eyes tugged at Nick’s heart. He bent down to level his eyes with hers. “I know,” he whispered, glancing back over his shoulder at Liz and meeting her gaze before focusing back on her daughter. “But can I tell you a secret?”
Evelyn nodded vigorously, and Owen crept closer.
“I think I need her.” He wasn’t sure what made him say it, or how it could be true when he barely knew the woman. Yet, everything in him called to her, pulling at him every time she was near.
The kids were serious for a moment before they both nodded in understanding, their hard stares softening. “We need her too,” Owen said.
“Yeah.” Evelyn sighed. “Every time Mom is in the hospital, Papa makes the most terrible pancakes.” Spell broken, she took his hand and tugged him to the living room, chatting about a game their grandfather had just gotten out.
Nick nodded in greeting to Mr. Ross, but he couldn’t shake Evelyn’s words.Every time Mom is in the hospital.How often was it? He wasn’t sure what this family had been through, but he sensed an awareness of pain. The kind that comes after trauma and never goes away. Like even in their most hopeful moments, they knew how bad it could get.
Nick had the same awareness, the same knowledge of despair no child should have. It was a mark on the soul, one that could never be removed.
“What are we playing?” Never one for games, he probably wouldn’t know what it was anyway. For most of his life, no one cared to teach him or even sit for a minute to play.
“The burrito game.” Owen threw himself on the floor next to his grandfather, who was busy shuffling cards at the coffee table.
“You have to sit down.” Evelyn pushed him forward. “Don’t worry if you’re embarrassingly bad, Mr. Jacobs. Mom has seen you at your worst.”
“Ev,” her mother warned.
“What?” Evelyn gave her an innocent look. “Did you want me to pretend you didn’t see him with his legs in the air, all busted up like you told Papa?”
“Like this.” Owen lifted one leg over his head.
“We don’t lie, Momma.” She pointed to Nick. “You were asleep.”
Nick barely heard her continued words because all his attention was on an uncomfortable-looking Liz. She pushed off the wall and strode forward, her hands fidgeting at her sides. “Are we going to start?” Her eyes were on the game, but she didn’t seem to actually see it.
“Liz…” He had so many questions. What was she doing in the hospital after his accident? Why did she come into his room? Why did he feel like she was hiding something?
She clapped her hands together. “Enough of this serious talk. I’m ready to throw some burritos.” She sat next to Evelyn and picked up one of the stuffed burritos, whipping it toward her son.
He ducked out of the way with a laugh.
Her father, a pensive look on his face, cleared his throat. “Have a seat, Nick. Evelyn will explain the rules.”
“Have you ever played spoons?” she asked.
He shook his head.
