Page 112 of The Irresistible Distraction

Brody does the one-eyebrow raise, but his smile is endearing, his curiosity a muted shade of what it normally is.

“Vi told me she tricked you into the engagement, said you have permission to tell me . . . but I’ve decided that maybe I don’t need to know, at least not now. I was married to Jesse, you were engaged to Vi, but maybe it’s time to . . . look at the future?” I lick my lips. “Mostly, I think we have to talk about practicalities. Specifically, Seba and I can’t move to Beverly Hills, especially now his dad is finally moving back to Lake Arrowhead.”

Brody is already nodding, clearly focused on reassuring me.

But then, the person I maybe could or should have consulted before beginning this conversation interrupts us.

“Why not?” Sebastian’s voice is low as Brody and I both turn to look at him.

“How much did you hear?”

My son’s standing in the bedroom doorway, which I thought I checked just a moment ago.

“Enough.” Sebastian shrugs. He takes a few steps toward us and then stops at a place that’s equidistant, not making eye contact. “I don’t want to get in between this. But there are all sorts of rumors right now. The guys at school—no one’s being mean about it, but some people were saying Brody proposed a couple days ago during the middle of a poker game. Other kids are saying Vi and Khloe Shindler came here to buy the diner or live in Lake Arrowhead. Someone else said Dad proposed, but in a parking lot. So I basically spent the whole day dodging weird questions. I mean, I think normally maybe no one would care, except it’s Vi and Khloe and they’re a big deal?” His voice has a tinge of that petulance that’s dogged us for months now, but I don’t get a chance to utter my half-formed apology because he continues. “I’m not sure if I would want to move to Beverly Hills now that I finally have . . . friends here, but I don’t see why you have to stay just because Dad’s back.”

I try to tread carefully. “Don’t you want to see more of him?”

“If he wants to see me, sure.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to get mad.”

This is always the ultimate slippery slope in parenting. You want your child to trust you, because if something’s really broken, if they’re really in trouble, you want to be the person they go to in their time of need.

But can I really promise not to be angry?

“I will try.”

Sebastian swallows and continues looking down at his feet, which he’s shuffling back and forth. “I didn’t want to tell you before, when you asked why I’ve been grumpier since Christmas, but—” He twists his hands together, a visible sign of how anxious he’s getting about this.

“I can leave, if you want.” Brody’s voice is soft and infinitely patient and nonjudgmental in a way that makes me think: He’s going to be good at this, being a stepfather.

And I add, “You don’t have to tell me, if it’s private to you and Dad.”

“It shouldn’t be private.” He takes a deep, steadying breath and then looks up at the both of us. “When Dad was going to propose to Mackenzie, they were thinking of moving to the Bay Area. They weren’t just fighting about whether I would call Mackenzie Mom, they were fighting about if I needed to, because they were talking about me living with them full-time.”

“They can’t do that.” My voice is faint, and I know my eyes must look like saucers. Mirroring my son, I twist my suddenly sweaty palms together, and Brody steps toward me, putting an arm around me to steady me.

Sebastian gives another shrug, and I ache for this boy who’s so clearly trying to downplay things for my sake. “They don’t like how much freedom you’re allowing. Grandpa more so. He said he knows people, and originally it was because Dad and Mackenzie make so much more, they could argue it’s a better environment for me.”

My mind races through a dozen possibilities before I ask, finally, “Did they tell you not to tell me?”

Sebastian gives the tiniest of nods. Brody’s arm around me tightens, and I’m sure there are a million and one things he’s holding back saying, but we’re silent as Sebastian continues.

“They also said—” Sebastian stops then, tearing up. He folds in on himself just a little, and I step forward, reaching my arms out to test whether he’ll accept a hug. Sebastian remains rigid before shrugging off my hold, wiping angrily at his eyes while looking at his feet. His voice is barely above a whisper. “They said it would be a better life for you, if you didn’t have to take care of me all the time, that you’d finally get to live your own life. And when I thought about it, I realized it was at least kind of true.” He swallows, the tears streaming unheeded down his cheeks now.

But I’m done listening to this. I move forward and wrap Sebastian in my arms. He’s so much taller than he used to be, and it’s not as easy as it once was to compel him into a hug, but that’s what I do. I wrap my arms around him even though he’s initially rigid, and I kiss his wet cheek, as near to the top of his head as I can manage.

I am furious, but I take a moment to steady my breathing, so he doesn’t mistakenly believe any of my anger is directed at him.

“You know that’s a lie, right?” My voice shakes with rage.

In my arms, my son tries to give what might pass as a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“No, Sebastian, this is important.” I pull away just far enough so that he can look into my eyes. I wait until I’ve angled my head just so, until he’s looking at me with red-rimmed brown eyes that are a mirror to mine, an endless well of hurt he hasn’t shared and has kept quiet about for months. “You are the center of my universe, Sebastian. You’re a choice I made and continue to make every day. I am often stressed and anxious. I haven’t always balanced work and life, but it has always been both an honor and—it’s a fucking privilege to be your mom.”

Sebastian’s eyes are welling up, and this time he’s the one who tightens the hug, his eyes wet on my shoulder.

“You never curse.” Seba looks at Brody, life creeping back in. “It’s more effective because she uses it sparingly.”

I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. “And only when it’s important.”