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I hear a rusty sigh. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you for helping with Jacob tonight.” I panicked, and yes, I was on the verge of stupidity after he went down. He might never have forgiven me had I made a scene. John’s clear thinking saved my bacon.
John taps his paper cup on the table. “Boys are different. You can’t hover. Especially not in front of others.”
“I know.” I finish my hamburger and bag the trash. Something’s been weighing on me, and now is as good a time as any. “There’s no need for you to sleep in the guest room tonight, John.”
His eyes round unnaturally.
“You should have your own room. I’ll be perfectly fine in the guest bedroom.”
He blinks, losing the deer-in-the-headlights look. He fists the napkin by his plate. “Nope. You’re staying where you are, and we’re not arguing about it.”
I barely restrain an eyeroll. These alternating bouts of softness and bossiness exhaust me.
John rattles the ice in his cup. “How late will Jacob be?”
I hold up a finger, swallowing a sip of water. “Don’t worry about him coming in late. He’s staying with friends tonight.”
His eyebrows lift. “That sounds like trouble.”
Still not convinced Jacob isn’t a bad seed?
Bad seed. My stomach threatens to reject the meal.Get a grip, Hollie!“It’s alright. He’s with my friend Angie and her family. We’ve gone to church with them for years, and she used to babysit Jacob a lot before he started kindergarten. She’s kind of a second mom to him. They have five kids, and their middle son is Jacob’s age. He’s going with them to their daughter’s volleyball tournament out of town tomorrow.”
“So Jacob won’t be home at all tonight?”
I pat a napkin on my lips. “No.”
John’s chair screeches across the tile. He carries his plate to the sink and runs the water. I take the bag of trash, dump it in the pull-out bin near his hip, and wait to rinse my own dish.
He puts his hand out. “Plate.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Go to bed, Hollie.”
“No, you’re not doing my dishes!”
He snatches the plate and it clatters when he releases it into the basin prematurely. His teeth sound gritted.“Go to bed, Hollie.”
I back up. I don’t understand yet another turn in his mood, but this is his home and I’m in no mood to argue. “Goodnight.”
Pausing at the bedroom, I take a last look across the vast living space at John, palms braced on either side of the sink.
Quietly, I close the door.
Chapter 17
John
Over my dwindling third cup of coffee, I eye the door to the room Hollie’s been hiding in since my grump-fest before bed.
The night was a bear. Clearly, the reality of being alone together all night did not impact Hollie the same way it did me. I hope she slept better than I.
I tap my phone screen. The morning is ticking by. She can’t always be this late a sleeper. She works too much for that.
I start another k-cup in the machine, Dad’s seven a.m. phone call still rattling in my mind. Of all times for Mom’s arthritis to flare up. She needs Dad’s care—which leaves me flying solo for Brayden’s birthday party.
