Page 74 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

Parenting seems to be this constant battle between worrying I’m saying or doing the wrong thing and desperately wanting to do right by my son, but there’s also this. An uncontrollable pressure in my chest as I watch Max laugh and toss balls for the dogs.

I turn to glance at Sadie, and that pressure expands. The way her hand is pressed over her heart, her expression tender and open as she watches us? If boasting about me going to law school is what she needs to deal with who I’ve become, she can have at it.

Her cell rings. She frowns at the screen, then hurries inside before answering. Once in the kitchen, her body language shifts to edgy. She paces, one arm wrapped around her middle, seeming to speak aggressively, or she’s frustrated. She closes her eyes and firms her jaw. I almost go in to make sure she’s okay, but Mom says something I didn’t catch.

I flip toward her. “What?”

“School. Everything still on track for your first semester?”

“Yeah,” I say distractedly, glancing again at Sadie’s tense back. When Mom doesn’t go on about my classes, prodding and gushing about how great of a lawyer I’ll be—every conversation we had my first five years in WITSEC as she urged me to reenroll—I focus on her. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

She’s no longer playing with the dogs. Her legs are tucked beside her, her head tilted in her mother-knows-all way. “If this is what you want, Des, I’m excited for you.”

“Well, it’s what I want.”

“That’s great.” What’s not great is that she and E share that overanalytical mind, and I don’t like how either of them have been looking at me today.

“Max, honey.” Sadie’s back outside, standing by the door.

He doesn’t glance at her, just pets Candy Cane’s velvet ears and gives a careless, “Yeah?”

“I can’t take you to the art walk on Sunday.”

“What?” His head jerks her way, his expression crestfallen.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I have a last-minute call for work scheduled. I need to be here. Unless . . .” She looks at Delilah and E, who are now snuggled together on the lounger. “Can you guys take him?”

Delilah cringes. “I wish. The café’s too busy during the art walk, and E’s signing copies of his graphic novels in the shop.”

“We would,” Mom offers, “but Lennon has to get back to Houston for work.”

I never attended the art walk until I started dating Sadie, lover of all things art. Truth be told, I loved the festival. Vendors set up their wares in the town square. Musicians play throughout the streets. It’s a fun, lively event, and I hate that she didn’t ask me to take Max before seeking out Delilah and E.

“I’m free Sunday,” I say.

“Really?” Max is back to beaming.

Sadie flips her phone in her hand. Twice. “The place will be packed.”

“And?” Now I’m downright insulted. I get that I haven’t earned a Number One Dad mug, but taking my son to a small-town festival isn’t brain surgery.

“No. Not that.” She shakes her head and holds up her hand. “I’m not worried you can’t handle it. It’s just, everyone from Windfall turns up to the event. People from your past.”

Right. A parade of painful run-ins like with that knob Justin Bernardini. Not ideal. But attending an event that’ll put me in the spotlight isn’t about me. Going to the art walk is about being a good dad. “Not an issue.” I turn to Max. “You good to go with me?”

He nods quickly and looks to Sadie. “It’s fine, right?”

“Of course it’s fine.”

With Sunday’s plans settled, Max resumes mucking around with Lennon and Mom.

I get up and walk over to Sadie. “You looked stressed in there. Everything okay with work?”

“Fine.” She avoids my eyes when she says this—clearly not fine. Fucking GQ Joseph, creating drama even when he’s not here. “Thanks for taking Max. It’s a huge help.”