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Twain is a bit of a mystery. Super sweet guy, same good looks as Harper and Truman, but the killer business gene apparently skipped over Twain and went right from Harper to Truman. The Woolff amusement park is all his, and that’s all he wants to deal with. He’s laid back and happy as a lamb to be outdoors. I’ve heard he’s more like some lost uncle than his own parents.
“I think I could use a break from the office,” I admit as I sweep my hand over the table toward her cast. “But maybe not like that.”
“It’s not that bad,” she mumbles. “It doesn’t throb like it did at first.”
“That’s good.”
“Ethan wanted to decorate it for me.”
Of course Ethan would want to decorate her cast. And of course Harper would never allow it.
“It would be one of a kind.”
She laughs softly. “True.” She sips her wine again, and I’m relieved this drink is much smaller than the first one.
“Have you seen Truman?” she asks casually. I’m a bit suspicious of why she’s asking, because I haven’t seen him to talk to him other than saying hi at the games.
“Not for several days. I assumed he was out of town.”
Harper tips her head and frowns. “I don’t think so.”
At a loss for something to say, I take a drink.
“It’s weird,” I tell her and then wish immediately that I would have kept my mouth shut.
“What’s weird?’
I nibble on my lip, considering how to answer her. “He said he wanted to be around more, and he was for a while.”
“And now he’s not?”
He is, though. My face floods with heat when I realize he’s been around for Ryle. They’ve spent a lot of time together this summer. Truman just hasn’t been around as much to talk to me lately. Which is totally okay since we’re just two polite adults raising our son together.
Before I can figure out what to say to Harper, Ethan and Ryle explode into the kitchen, giggling and yelling about a game. Relieved at the interruption, I jump up to get them a snack, but I feel Harper’s eyes on me the whole time.
12
Truman
Apparently, Harper invited Jules to my mom’s birthday dinner. I can’t argue about it; after all, Harper always does the dinner at her house. Even this year, when she’s still hobbling around in the kitchen and should probably be resting, she’s hosting Mom’s birthday dinner. She has plenty of help—even Mabry keeps insisting that she wants to do something for Harper.
Mom seems happy to see Jules when she and Ryle appear on Harper’s deck, so that makes me happy, too. But it feels like Harper has an agenda, and when she starts sneaking peeks at me as soon as Julie shows up, it doesn’t even feel like a hidden agenda.
It’s weird now to be around Julie, too. I’ve been in love with her for years, but I’ve never admitted it to anyone. Now that I’ve said it out loud to Harper, now that my sister’s asked me if I cheated on Jules and drove her away, all the things between Julie and me are back again—the good and the bad. All the fun times, but all the arguments, too. Including the big one that blew us apart. Ryle sees me sitting at the patio table and comes over to climb into my lap.
“Dad!” He twists around to look me in the eyes. “Mom took me to the batting cage!”
The batting cage? The only batting cage I know about has three pitching machines: slow pitch, fast ball, and really fast ball. Surely, Julie wouldn’t put him in that fast ball cage? He’s only six.
“Ryle!”
Ethan and Mabry’s nephew Bryson thump up the deck steps and make a beeline for my lap. Both of them join Ryle there, and the three of them put their heads together to conspire. I feel someone watching me, and I assume it’s Harper. But when the boys jump from my lap and scramble back across the deck to the steps, I realize it’s Julie.
She’s got a drink in her hand. I would’ve gotten her something, but I was talking to our son. I wish he hadn’t run off so soon. I know it’s better for him to be down and playing with the other boys, but I would have liked more details on his trip to the batting cages.
We make eye contact, but before either of us can even smile at each other—though I’m not sure I could find a smile for her after that—my mom sweeps in and throws her arms around her. Something so simple. Mom’s a hugger; she’s always been that way. She’d hug the bank teller if she could get behind the counter.
I haven’t had my arms around Julie since that night we broke up. I wasn’t there when Ryle was born; after everything was said and done, she didn’t want me there. It’s my biggest regret as far as my son is concerned. My regrets with Julie could fill a book.
