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I bite my lip, blinking back tears as I risk taking another step closer to him. “It’s not your responsibility to make them change if they don’t want to, though. I know how much it hurts you when they pretend what you say to them doesn’t matter. Believe me, it hurts me to see you get hurt. But, Seth, like you said, it’s all up to the person if they want to step out of the shadows.” I set my palm over his heart, holding his gaze. “How about we talk about this for a little bit after they’re gone, though? I think we should probably go inside and see what damage control needs to be done.”
Despite the seriousness of the impending conversation, his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. “Let’s hope there’s not much, okay?”
Against my wishes, his grin makes a weird sensation bloom in my chest as I nod. “Okay.”
Seth grasps the hand still resting on his chest, gives it a little squeeze, and then drops it and nudges me with a hand to my back towards the deck. I don’t want to put a label on what I’m feeling, mainly because I don’t know if I can, but it almost feels a little like falling in love.
And for the first time since my divorce, I’m beginning to think I’m okay with it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jenna
The remainder of the work session with the teens was tense, but on the bright side, anger can propel people to work harder. The boys managed to get all the cupboards hauled out of the house—with a lot more ease than Alessia, Mazzy, and I—and we have them safe in a locked trailer Seth rented. That way they won’t be damaged by any potential moisture or mistaken as trash before we’re able to sand and repaint them.
While they did that, the girls and I took turns swinging the sledgehammer. Whoever wasn’t swinging it was hauling loads of broken-up plaster and lath out to the Dumpster. The house was built in 1972, but that was before people started using Sheetrock consistently in around 1976. A tidbit I learned this evening when Mazzy was on a self-appointed break (I know it irritated Seth, but nobody wanted to tip the already dangerously rocking boat) and she was Googling it. I also learned her friend Natalie broke up with her boyfriend thanks to a brief Facetime call that couldn’t have lasted more than ten seconds. It made me very glad I didn’t have to go to school in the era of cell phones and social media. It was slowly starting to become a thing by the time I was a senior, but I never really got into it. Even now, though I don’t have anything against it, I don’t have the time (or the knowledge) to curate an aesthetically pleasing feed on Instagram or keep up with the Joneses on Facebook.
Although I do imagine the photo of Seth and my kids from Friday could go viral, filtered or not.
Once our tasks were completed, Colin and Mazzy were out of here so fast I’m pretty sure they left smoke in their trails. Luka asked to speak to Seth for a couple minutes before leaving, and then Seth left to take Alessia home. That was about twenty minutes ago, and I tidied up a few of the tools left out before wandering out to the backyard. The sun is still high in the sky since it’s only a little past eight, and it’s warm on my skin as I sit on the bench that’s only a few yards from the edge of the lake.
I can’t help but wonder if Marie came out here in the mornings to watch the sunrise ease up into the sky as she sipped her Folgers (there were three tins in the cupboard) or if she preferred the view from her back deck. I never personally met her because there was no reason for our paths to cross but based on her insane amount of gaudy jewelry and décor choices, she was an eccentric woman. Certainly not my style, but fascinating, nonetheless.
I’m still pondering Marie’s potential morning rituals when I hear footsteps approach me from behind, and though the plush summer grass dulls them, I know it’s Seth. I glance up as he lowers onto the bench next to me. He lifts his cap, runs his fingers through his dark hair, and readjusts the hat. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen something so mesmerizing. Every little move Seth makes fascinates me in the oddest ways. Was it that way with Pete? I’m sure it was. It had to be. Our marriage may have ended, but it’s not like I never loved the man. I’m notheartless.
And even though it sometimes feels like it, neither is Pete. He and I simply wanted different things in life. Our time together resulted in two beautiful children, so I’ll never regret marrying him. Angry for how things turned out, sometimes, but I can’t regret the choice that led me to my children.
“Sorry I took longer than I thought I was going to,” Seth says, breaking into my thoughts. “I’d brought up having Alessia’s two younger siblings come help us sometime to Alessia, and I needed to discuss the idea with her parents. Alessia’s little sister has Down syndrome. Has she mentioned that to you?”
“Briefly. Her name’s Becca, right?”
Seth nods. “Yes. Anyway, I asked them about it and made the mistake of doing so while Becca and Dylan were within earshot. Tom and Sofia—Alessia’s parents—agreed to talk about it and get back to me.”
I narrow my eyes, taking in his tense body language. “And that’s a…bad thing?”
“No. I respect their choice. Agree with it, even.” He looks at me, eyes shadowed slightly by his cap. “What I don’t like is that they were both probably about two beers in.”
“Uh, I don’t mean to second-guess your ability to know when someone’s consumed alcohol, but how do you know that? Were they drinking while talking to you?”
“Thank God, no, but considering there were four empty bottles in the otherwise empty sink, somebody had already started in for the night.” He cracks a rueful grin. “And I really doubt it was Becca or Dylan, so either it’s an even split or divvied up one and three. I don’t know. At this point their tolerance is so high it probably takes them three or four to have much of an effect.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. And to really put the icing on the cake, Tom had surgery last year. According to what I’ve heard from some undisclosed sources, I’ve heard he’s managed to keep working the system to have prescription pain meds.”
“The doctor would do that? Keep prescribing them even, what, a year after surgery for…?”
“His foot. And unfortunately, yes. There’s a lot of money associated with those meds. Just like any profession—law enforcement, banks, restaurants, you name it—there are rotten apples. All they’ve gotta do is write the prescription.” He holds up his hand and rubs his fingers together as if sayingmoney, money, money. “They can’t measure pain. If Tom says he’s in pain and he’s got a doctor who’ll go with it, they both have their tickets written.”
“Wow. I’m not sure what to say. Did they, you know, seem loopy or high or whatever?”
Seth shakes his head. “Maybe a little irritable, but no to the things you asked. Like I said, the more often a person indulges, the higher a tolerance their body builds. If you’re asking if there was enough evidence for an arrest or police interference, no. The kids have never been touched and we’ve never received a call about belligerence. Other than the bottles in the sink, nobody would know they were in the house of two alcoholics.”
I release a sigh. “I wish we could do something. Help them go to treatment for it or something, you know?”
“It’s not possible. Not if the party isn’t interested in what we’d be extending, and believe me, they aren’t.” Seth’s words are gentle, but I know he’s softening them for my sake. It makes me want to slide right up next to him and lean my head against his shoulder. I like this softer side of Seth. It’s almost as attractive as on-duty Seth. “But hopefully they’ll stick to their word and discuss letting Becca and Dylan come along. I know how much it would mean to Alessia, and to her siblings. I never remember how trusting and happy people with Down syndrome are until I see someone with their condition. Maybe I’ll tell Colin and Mazzy they can have that day off.”
I know he’s only teasing, but there’s an underlying current in his words. “They test you, don’t they?”
