Page 95 of More Than My Hometown

“If you’re askin’ if he spiked your grandmother’s sweet tea, I think we can honestly believe that of all my children, Ewan would not be the culprit there.” Looking over at the group of them at the table still laughing, he smiles, then turns back to me. “Huxley, however, could go either way.”

I sputter out a laugh, wiping away my tears. Leave it to Auggie to be able to cheer me up in my moment of panic.

“There we go.” He wipes away one last tear, nodding succinctly. “I’m not great with tears. Luckily, Willa was never a crier. Her tongue can be sharper than a razor blade, but I didn’t have to deal with tears.”

“I’m a crier,” I admit. “Happy, sad, stressed…all tears.”

“So, which ones are these? Happy, sad, stressed?”

Good question…

“Confusion. Panic. Guilt.”

“That’s quite the trio. Especially for a birthday party.”

No kidding.

“Auggie, I’m going to ask you something, and I need for you to please be honest with me. No matter what you might have promised Ewan or whatever business paperwork is signed, or whatever. Please.”

Auggie turns serious, once again looking over at his sons, then back at me. “I promise.”

“Is Ewan really selling The Booby Trap?”

Shock flashes in Auggie’s eyes, and he blinks quickly, maintaining his composure. But I see it.

“I must admit, this is the first I’m hearing of it. Are you sure?”

I shake my head. “No, but…I…” I heave out a sigh, trying to put my jumbled mess of emotions into coherent thoughts. “But I also don’t want to go ask him. Which I know sounds counterintuitive, but if he really is doing it, then I think I know why, and it’s for a reason I can’t ask of him, but he’s not going to listen and…”

Auggie hold up his hands, signaling me to stop. He’s got me. Twisting, he looks over his shoulder, his expression turning even more serious. A serious that I didn’t realize that Auggie could have.

“August!”

Oh, shit…

Gus’s head whips up, as Auggie reaches out, grabbing his arm and yanking him over to us. The oldest brother’s eyes are wide, clearly familiar with this face.

“There something you want to tell me?” Auggie asks.

Looking between his father and me, Gus swallows hard, the muscles in his neck contracting as if in slow motion. I watch the trepidation flit across his features, as he tries to figure out the right answer to the question.

“Is want the verb we’re going with?” Gus asks, careful to hold back his sass.

“Out with it.”

“I take it he didn’t talk to you then,” Gus says, looking directly at me.

My heart plummets, stomach lurching with that response. Because no, he didn’t. I didn’t even realize that he’d talked to Gus. I’d gone to my interview on Friday and assumed Ewan had gone to the store like every other day. Things had been weird enough after how our dinner had gone Thursday night. When he’d come home late that night to silently slip into bed, I’d been happy that he seemed back to his normal self.

I should have asked more questions. I should have pushed more. Should have used the tornado tactic.

Shaking my head, I fight back more tears. Ones for an emotion I can’t name. All I know is that it’s all I can think to do. Because I can’t ask him to do this.

“I told him to talk to you first,” Gus continues. “But he was adamant that this was the way he wanted to handle it.”

“So, he’s really selling it.” My voice cracks, but I manage to keep my emotions in check.

“What? No. Well, not outright. It’s a transfer of ownership, technically. Making The Booby Trap officially a part of Hayes Industries, rather than his sole proprietorship.”