Page 89 of That Reilly Boy
And the fact my heart is aching in advance is proof I’m already screwed. But I can’t resist just a little more time with him today.
The diner’s busy, but since we’re not having a full meal, we sit on the stools at the counter. I order the strawberry shortcake with vanilla ice cream and extra whipped cream. Hayden chooses the cherry pie with chocolate ice cream.
“Really?” I ask when Lorene goes to hand off the order to whoever’s making desserts. “Cherry pie with chocolate ice cream?”
“Trust me, you have to try a bite.” I must look skeptical because he chuckles. “Do you think chocolate-covered cherries are weird?”
He has a point. “Okay, I’ll try one bite.”
We end up sharing both desserts—the bowls between us—and he wasn’t wrong about the pie and ice cream combo. And I appreciate that he doesn’t talk about the house. There’s no discussion of a timeline for Gin or about which part of the renovations he’ll tackle first.
We just talk about desserts and Penny and random things. It’s a perfect way to end a rough day, and when he drops me off at home, it’s hard not to ask him to stay one more day. Or two. If he’d brought Penny with him, I might have caved.
Instead, I smile and wave as he drives away.
Fifteen minutes later, Gin walks through the door. She’s practically glowing, and she talks more in the next hour than she has in the last week. With measurements in hand, she talks about what furniture she’ll need and other things she’ll have to bring with her.
Days later, when it comes time to actually move my mom’s things to her new home, I’m not surprised she’s suddenly a lot more mercenary about what she considers hers and what’s just junk collected by the family over the decades.
I don’t even care that she’s leaving the bulk of the mess for me to deal with. That’s pretty in character for her, honestly, and it’ll be easier for me to sort donations from trash if she’s not taking everything back from the trash pile for her emotional support pile.
Your father and I bought this lamp at a yard sale on the way home from playing mini golf for your sixth birthday. All it needs is a new electrical cord and it’ll be good as new.
There’s no doubt everything in the house and garage has a similar origin story. And if she can’t remember it, she’ll probably make something up. The woman does not like to let go of anything from the past.
She seems content to make a fresh start in her new house, though, and the faster we can make it feel like home, the faster she’ll forget about the junk in the garage.
Meanwhile, I’m alone in the house, waiting for Hayden’s return. And dreading the next phase of the plan.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Hayden
Returning to Sumac Falls to find that my mother-in-law had already moved into her new house was a pleasant surprise. Discovering my wife had moved all of my belongings into Gin’s old room was much less pleasant.
“I don’t like it,” I say, standing in the open doorway of the bedroom that was ours, but is apparently just hers now.
“So you’ve said. Twice.” Cara’s standing in the hall, arms crossed. “But we don’t need to pretend to be a real married couple if there’s nobody in the house to know.”
It’s a valid point. And I can’t argue with it because I don’t want to tell her that, even in my condo in Boston, I have trouble sleeping without her warmth next to me. I don’t want her to know how many hours I spend lying awake, wishing I was in her bed.
But I still don’t like it.
“Penny will be confused,” I tell her, knowing my dog would be okay with me throwing her under the bus in this instance. “She’s gotten used to sleeping with both of us.”
“She’ll be fine. She still sleeps alone with you in Boston.” She shakes her head and heads down the hall, but she stops at the top of the stairs to look back. “We need to leave in ten minutes.”
“Right,” I mutter, and I hear her laughter as she goes downstairs.
To make the evening even more fun, we’re having dinner with my family tonight. Honestly, without Gin and her pickles present, it shouldn’t be too bad. Aaron and Hope both like Cara, actually, and Colleen’s seemingly warming to the idea of our marriage.
It’s seeing Cara with Daisy and AJ that’ll get me. Every time I think about my brother’s kids now, I build this vision of the future in my head. Family cookouts. Cousins playing together in the yard. Cara and Hope laughing while Aaron and I argue over who’s better at grilling burgers.
And then I have to remind myself none of it’s real.
I move Penny’s booster seat to the backseat before we leave. She’s mad about it, but doesn’t refuse to get in the car because it’s for Cara, who is her second favorite human.
At least I hope she’s her second favorite. Sometimes I wonder.
