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The second I pull back so she can see around me to Easton and Summer, her eyes light up.
“Mother.” I step out of the car and press a kiss to her temple. “Behave.”
“She’s pretty,” she whispers back, tightening her hug. “What did you say her name is?”
We both know she hasn’t forgotten; it’s her way of trying to appear calm and cool.
“Summer,” I murmur back.
Armed with the only information she wanted, she releases me and rounds the car to fish Summer out while I gently wake Easton and take him from the car seat.
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” Mom practically squeals, engulfing Summer in one of her hugs.
Summer smiles. “You too, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“Oh no…no, no, no…” Mom looks over her shoulder at me with a scowl before focusing back on my girl. “Mrs. H. is Parker’s grandmother. I’m just Agnes.”
Sweet fucking Lord.
I’m starting to question my sanity for bringing Summer along this weekend. I knew Mom would be excited and that it would overshadow the doom and gloom of the date. It seems to be working because she is doing a great job of rambling at Summer about why she got her great-grandmother’s name rather than her grandmother’s.
“Are you ever going to take a breath?” I ask as we head through the front doors and straight through to the outside kitchen/entertainment area.
“How about you give me my gorgeous grandson and give your girl a tour of the place while lunch is finished?” Her closed-lip smile along with the way she fusses with her rings tells me that all is not great between her and Dad.
When I hand her Easton, I manage to ask quietly, “Everything okay with Dad?”
Avoiding my question, she pulls back and practically pushes us toward the steps leading to the manicured lawn with the sea vista at the end. “Don’t hover, Parker.”
I don’t argue with her, mainly because I don’t want to make things awkward for Summer. Taking her hand, I lead us down the path.
“Everything all right?” Summer asks when we’re out of earshot.
“Sure.”
“Babe…” Perceptive as hell, Summer presses when we reach the fence leading down to the small private beach.
Crouching, I loosen the straps of her heeled sandals and gently tug them off her dainty feet. Bright yellow-painted toes wiggle before setting on the grass.
It’s not until I’ve taken my own shoes off and we’re sitting on a dry log just short of the water that I tell her, “My dad has bad days.”
“Bad as in depressed?”
“Umm…no, bad as in asshole. He changed after Jenson died. I think he blames me for it because if I hadn’t brought Heather into our lives…”
There’s a beat of silence where she links her arm through mine and nuzzles into me.
“They were bad for each other. She was wild, and he was wilder. Together, they were dangerous.”
“Why would that make any of it your fault?”
“I made the issues they already had worse. Heather was no saint, and when we were in college, things got crazy. You’ve seen the way Ellen is with me—imagine having her for a mother. The first taste of freedom and Heather lost it.”
“Still not your fault. People’s choices don’t fall at your feet.”
“Maybe not, but I’m always going to wonder where I went wrong or where I could’ve done more.” Jenson’s death is always going to haunt me. “I broke up with Heather the night he died. We were on and off, and if you really look at our time together, we were more off than on…but that night, I was so angry at them.”
Drawing a line in the sand with my finger, I take a moment to rethink everything that happened.
