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When dinner was ready, she laid out an assembly line of toppings. Giovanni ignored his presence as he spooned diced tomatoes, shredded lettuce, and cheese into his taco. They sat at the table and ate in awkward, crunchy silence.
“I think you should take down the sale signs,” Erin announced.
“Why? We’ve liquidated more than fifty percent of the inventory. The signs are working.”
“Eighty percent off is ridiculous. We’re losing money.”
“We’re trying to empty the store, Erin. Profit isn’t a part of it.”
“Maybe it should be.”
He glared at her. “Did you talk to your husband about this?”
Giovanni looked at her. “About what?”
She shrugged. “About possibly keeping the store or maybe turning it into something else.”
Her husband frowned, appearing to find the idea as ridiculous as Harrison had. “Like what?”
“Maybe an office.”
“What kind of office?”
She carefully relocated some tomato cubes that had fallen off her taco. “What do you do, Harrison?”
“I—” Understanding dawned. “Forget it. I work in New York.”
“But you don’t need to be in New York to do what you do. You said it yourself, you could work anywhere.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to be here.”
The room chilled. Erin’s eyes flushed with pink, and she stood from the table before Harrison could retract his words.
“Erin, wait.”
She left the kitchen and the door at the end of the hall slammed.
Giovanni glared at him. “Well done.”
How was this his fault?
“The plan has always been to sell the store. If she wants the building, fine, but none of us are going into the hardware business so where’s the confusion?”
“Did you ever think it’s not about the fucking store, Harrison?” He shoved back his chair and left the kitchen.
“What’s it about?” Harrison yelled, but the only answer was another door slamming.
He thrust away his plate, no longer hungry.
He could work on the hall, but they were in the bedroom and he wanted to give them privacy, so he cleared the table and wrapped up the leftovers. Then he washed the dishes.
When the front door opened and shut, he turned off the water and heard a car backing out of the driveway. Worried Erin had left, he turned to go after her only to find her standing in the doorway of the kitchen watching him.
“He’s going to visit his dad.”
Her eyes were rimmed with red, and he could tell she’d been crying. “Erin, I…”
“It’s okay. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know neither of us want to run the store.” She picked at her fingernail. “Today was just nice, and I thought…it might be nice if we had more days like that in the future.”
Today had been long and filled with moments of back-locking tension. But they did laugh a few times over dumb stuff. That was nice.
“I’m sorry I made you cry.” This was becoming another bad habit of his.
“It’s not your fault. I’ve been overly emotional lately.” She drew in a long breath and released it with a huff. “I don’t know how to convince you to stay, so I’m just going to ask. What would it take for you to stick around for a while?”
He frowned and shook his head, hating to continuously disappoint her, but certain there was nothing she could do to change his mind. “Erin, my life’s in—”
“I’m pregnant.”
His head lifted and the excuses in his head vanished. “What?”
Her smile was tentative and packed with fear. “I’m having a baby. She’ll be here by Christmas.”
“She?”
Erin nodded. “We haven’t told anyone yet. Obviously, this wasn’t planned.”
“Are you happy?” She looked terrified.
The fear in her eyes morphed to a kind of uncertain joy. “Scared shitless.” She laughed. “But we’re excited.”
He thought to hug her, but they didn’t hug. “Do you need anything?”
“I need my brother.”
Her words, once again, left him staggered. Did she truly need him, or was she trying to cast some role of modern family she thought they needed to play?
“You’re going to be an uncle, Harrison. Think about that. Think about how jealous we used to be of the McCulloughs’ big family. You could spoil her rotten and teach her how to skip rocks and throw a curve ball.”
A giddy bubble ticked up his chest. “What about Giovanni?”
“His curve ball sucks.”
He laughed. “Uncle. Uncle Harrison.” He liked the sound of that. “Do you have a name picked out?”
“We mostly call her Bean.”
“Bean.” He laughed again. “Holy crap, Erin, you’re going to be a mother.”
“Whatever that means,” she joked then her eyes turned serious. “I just really want her to be happy. I never want her to feel afraid or unloved. I’m trying to make sure this house always feels safe to her, a place she feels perfectly at home to grow and become exactly who she’s meant to be, whatever that is.”
A tight ache formed in his chest and his words strained past the lump in his throat, “I want that for her too.”
