Page 91 of The Irresistible Distraction

“You looked him up?”

“Yale Law. Brody. His last name auto-completed in the search bar.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “I also googled him, though I didn’t know initially . . .” I bite off the thought, because these aren’t details I want to share with my ex-mother-in-law.

Seeing my blush elicits a small smile from Adeline. “I’m not against this new relationship of yours.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it’s none of Adeline’s business, but I manage, barely, to not say anything.

“My concern was always that you and Jesse weren’t a good fit.” She pauses for a delicate beat, continuing to drive at her stately, we-probably-won’t-get-home-for-almost-an-hour rate. “I assume this is serious?”

“Yes,” I say, because I remember the way Adeline hated when I said yeah, like a teenager (though at the time, I was a teenager). And then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “Probably. Odd to think that my dating someone else might help my relationship with you.”

Adeline sighs, a long and theatrical exhalation. “You’ll always be the girl who interrupted Jesse’s natural development. If I’m honest, I knew it was never going to work, but now he’s got ideas in his head again.”

“So you’re Team Brody because you’d rather I’m safely paired off than angling after your son?”

“You never did try to catch Jesse, I’ll give you that. But it’s clear you’re a small-town girl. Even if you had gone away to college, you were always going to come back. I believe that was part of your allure for him, actually, that you didn’t see him as your ticket out of here, or, alternatively, straight into the Lake Arrowhead elite.”

I laugh, because I’m apparently openly irreverent now. “Lake Arrowhead elite?”

She’s silent again, and I’m wondering how rude it would be to just take out my camera and start sorting photos. “I’m going to say this once. And I will deny it if you dare repeat it: I don’t want Jesse to come back. I raised him to want a bigger life than head of emergency medicine at Lake Arrowhead.”

27

HE CAN STILL HAVE A NORMAL FAMILY

Because it completely makes sense, and because it’s obviously one of those pouring-my-soul-out moments, I don’t ask follow-up questions. Instead, I allow her pronouncement to sit there as she turns on the music, eventually asking photography-centric questions until we’re almost back. “Do you have thoughts about Sebastian’s relationship with Jesse?”

“That boy will always be my grandson, and of course I love him. Personally, no matter what Arthur—well, I believe you’ve done a very decent job, all things considered. But Sebastian is your son, Sophie. For better or worse, that child is a product of your attention, his goals are derivatives of whatever your dreams are for him. He loves chess and math and is stubborn and anxious in ways that my son never was. Jesse was a track star. You didn’t attend all of his competitions, but he wasn’t just fast, he was a true leader: homecoming king and class president. He joined the nerdier clubs because he was attached to you, and I suppose they helped round out his college applications. But Jesse hasn’t been around, and neither Arthur nor I have been able to make much of an impact on Sebastian. If Jesse can let go of this current fantasy of Frankensteining his former family back together, he would be a wonderful catch, could still have a normal family.”

She doesn’t say it, so I say it for her. “Outside of Lake Arrowhead, and without me or Sebastian.”

I’m not sure, exactly, how I keep my composure, but I do. I’m not sure how I don’t subject her to an entire soliloquy on why Sebastian is amazing and why I love my town-not-town.

Maybe because . . . Adeline’s opinions, wrong as they are, are her own and reveal far more about Adeline than my son or hometown.

Or maybe it’s because I know I won’t convince her. If she can’t see the beauty in our town or her grandson, maybe . . . she doesn’t deserve to.

The house is empty when I arrive and I pack a bag so I can spend the night with Spock and Kirk. I respond to Brody’s texts, which are mostly selfies of him and my son, and instead of processing Adeline’s comments with what’s left of my not-too-tired brain time, I force myself to go through Cally’s notes on kitchens and floors and even lower-level food influencers, because that’s a thing. An hour later, Brody texts again.

BRODY: Reception’s lousy, tried to call, hope these are coming through.

BRODY: I should warn you that the boys had a very long, involved conversation about ideal pets, and your son has some interesting ideas.

BRODY: Not my fault. I meant well, but in trying to push Seba away from the idea of a dog (I’m thinking about Spock and Kirk and life without trainers), I may have inadvertently, accidentally, wittily unwittingly (see what I did there?) encouraged your son to consider something smaller, which may have become insect-adjacent.

BRODY: This parenting shit is kind of a fucking unsolvable mystery. I might need to say sorry in advance?

BRODY: I hope the workshop was fantastic enough you’re feeling . . . grateful.

In the few moments it takes me to compose a message letting him know I’ve missed him and Sebastian, he seems to have fallen asleep, because for the first time ever, he leaves me unread. Brody’s worked a full shift at the diner, hiked however many miles, and then camped . . . overnight, none of which are likely the things he thought he’d be doing when he first agreed to help Vera.

Jesse also texts, for the first time in days.

JESSE: I just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you.

JESSE: I’m looking forward to the day when we’ll finally be in the same city again.