Page 80 of That Reilly Boy
It’s tempting to argue that Hayden didn’t actually come back. Boston is definitely his home, and he has no intention of making a life here. But I don’t bother because I have enough stress in my life without picking a semantics fight with Hayden.
Plus, it sounds like Gin just pulled everything out of the pan cabinet and let it clatter on the floor. “I should get down there. She’s definitely trying to communicate with me because we don’t even use that many pots and pans for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“If you plan to shower, you should do it before she starts washing dishes. And don’t get too good a lather up, or you’ll be half-frozen by the time you rinse it all off.”
I can tell by his expression he forgot again, and I’m laughing as I walk out the door. One look at Gin’s expression when I walk into the kitchen kills any lingering amusement, though.
“I was going to make pancakes,” she says in a clipped tone. “But I can’t find the pan and I promised Sherry I’d help her set up her booth, so I’m going upstairs to find my sun hat and then I’m leaving.”
And then she walks out, without me ever saying a word. I hold my breath, dreading her and Hayden running into each other in the hallway, until her bedroom door slams.
Hard.
Whether he planned it or was just lazily scrolling his phone in bed, Hayden doesn’t come downstairs until my mother’s gone—her departure announced with more doors slamming. He’s dressed in well-worn jeans and a casual, short-sleeved button-down in a soft sage that’s suddenly my favorite color. It looks really good on him.
“Apparently, the good pancake pan is missing,” I tell him. “But we do have some eggs. And cereal.”
“Let me take Penny out for her morning walk, and then we can grab something at the diner.”
“They’re not open today.”
He frowns. “With everybody in Sumac Falls converging on downtown? They should at least be open for breakfast.”
“Nope. And before you pull up that magic food-on-your-doorstep app, don’t bother. I’ll make some scrambled eggs and toast while you walk Penny.”
By early afternoon, I’m running out of steam. There are very few people in the town square that one or both of us doesn’t know, and the people Hayden knows are eager to catch up. I think it’s even more exhausting to play out this charade now than it was for our wedding because everybody wants to talk to us. And we don’t have other guests to use as an excuse to step away.
At least our mothers are behaving. I’m not sure if they’ve both snapped out of their bad moods or if neither wants to appear ungracious to their child’s new spouse in public, and I don’t care. When we stopped by Sherry’s booth to thank her again for such gorgeous floral arrangements on short notice, Gin managed a smile. And when we ran into Colleen by the Little League’s fundraising game, she was slightly cool, but not so anybody else would notice.
“How come you don’t have a booth?” Hayden asks when we have a few blessed moments to ourselves, walking hand-in-hand through the crowd.
I try not to dwell on how right it feels for our hands to be clasped together.
“There’s really no benefit for me,” I explain. “The people with pets already know I’m here. They’re either existing customers, already travel to another groomer, or they do it themselves. And the people who don’t have pets don’t need me. No matter how awesome my booth is, nobody’s going to go out and buy a dog just so they can give me business.”
He nods. “Good point.”
I reach over with my free hand and scratch under Penny’s chin. Because she’s so little and easily stepped on, Hayden’s been carrying her since we arrived, and she’s a little smug about it. “Though some people might drag their dog up from a different state to get her nails done just so they can talk to me.”
He chuckles. “And now you’re my wife, so my plan clearly worked.”
My wife. There’s something about the way he says those words that still heats my skin.
“Cara!” I see Mel walking toward me, her hand in the air.
“Uncle Hayden!” we hear at almost the same time.
“We’ve been found again,” he says, and then he winks at me before heading toward his niece and nephew, giving me time with Mel.
“I didn’t think I’d ever find you,” she says after giving me a quick hug. “I wasn’t even sure you’d be here, actually. I meant to text you, but then I got distracted. A few minutes ago, I heard a woman talking about the little dog Hayden Reilly is carrying around, so I started hunting.”
“I knew I’d run into you eventually. You’re always here. But where’s Lucas?”
“One of the old classic cars that’s going to be in the parade won’t start, and he was so excited to get his hands in an engine that’s not all computerized, I didn’t have the heart to remind him he promised to spend his entire day off with me.”
I’m trying to pay attention to what she’s saying—she’s my best friend and I haven’t gotten to spend much time with her lately—but over her shoulder I can see Hayden.
