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Cormac smiles. “He will be.”
I nod and smile before heading back home. This feels wrong. Being at home with something this big unfinished. I hate leaving things undone. I could try for the bath I wanted this morning, but I’ll never relax. This all got away from me, and now Everett’s gone again. What can I do right now to make this better?
There’s someone in Somerset Harbor who deserves the truth.
The drive is short and after a wary trip up the sidewalk, I knock on Mom’s door. She smiles the moment she sees me. “That was quick. Good news, I hope.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Not entirely. But not bad news, either. Sort of hovering between good and bad at the moment.”
“Oh. Well, I can whip up some pancakes, if you want.”
“I’m not hungry, but thanks.”
“Mom?” Owen asks from the living room.
“Yeah, baby. Get your things. We’re going.”
“Okay.” He packs up.
Mom gives me a concerned look, and quietly asks, “Are you in some kind of trouble? You have the same face on that you had when you found out you were pregnant.”
I chuckle. “Tired, confused, and unsure? Yeah, that tracks. But I’m not pregnant, so don’t worry. And we’re healthy and all that. It’s other stuff. I’ve got it under control for now.”
“Money?”
I shake my head, and Owen comes out. “Thanks again, Mom.”
“Anytime I can, honey. Owen ate so many chocolate chip pancakes that he threw up, so—"
“Grandma, you promised not to tell!”
“Did I?” She winks at him. “I suppose I’ll have to make you more to make up for it next time.”
He grins. “Okay.”
“Bye, Mom.” I ruffle his hair, and we head home. Once inside, we change back into our lazy day pajamas and out come the dinosaurs. “Owen, you feeling better after the pancakes?”
“I’m fine. Grandma makes them too good. I couldn’t stop.”
I chuckle. “Understandably. She used to work at a diner, so she knows all the secrets to good food.” After playing for what feels like forever but was only fifteen minutes, I can’t keep it in anymore. “Baby, I need to talk to you about something.”
“What?”
“You remember me telling you that your dad is an explorer?”
“Yeah.”
I take a breath and let it out slowly. “The night I met your father was a very special night. When you get older, it can be more difficult to make friends with other adults—we’re—"
He smiles. “You’re not a student anymore, so you don’t have to work with other people and be their friend.”
I chuckle. “Not completely, but also kind of. Yeah. So, when you connect with someone, you grab onto that connection. It makes the friends you have even more important. Your dad and I had that kind of connection—"
“He was your friend?”
“Of sorts. And then he left for his exploring trip, so I lost contact with him.”
Owen’s bottom lip stuck out like he was about to cry, but he got up and hugged me. “I’m sorry you lost your new friend, Mommy.”
