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“No. I’m still upstairs in my room. She’s downstairs, yelling at Dean. I—I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. Mom said I wasn’t allowed to.”
“It’s okay.” I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening. It’s not okay. How dare she involve our son in her lies? “Is that why you’ve been kinda quiet?”
“Yeah. That and going back to school.”
“No-one likes going back to school, and as for Dean, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“Of course not.”
“I—I heard you and mom yelling.”
I could kick myself, and I shake my head, lowering it at the same time. “I’m sorry, Nash. We shouldn’t have let that happen. None of this is your fault, and no matter what we say to each other, your mom and I love you very much. Okay?”
“Okay, Dad.”
He sounds happier already and I have to smile. “I’ll see you Friday, but if you wanna talk after school tomorrow, give me a call.”
“I might just do that,” he says, sounding older than his years, and my smile widens.
“Love you, son.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
We end our call and I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and start the engine, setting off for home. Despite my call with Nash, I’m still livid.
I’m beyond livid.
It’s not just the fact that Dean is living with my son, it’s Sabrina’s attitude to the whole thing… to moving him in without telling me, the tickets to Mexico, swearing Nash to secrecy. All of it.
Why does she think she can do whatever she pleases? I mean… who does she think she is?
And more to the point, what can I do about it?
Drive a lot faster than usual, it seems. I’m gripping the steering wheel, my right foot heavy on the gas as I get to Hart’s Creek, having made the journey in record time.
How can she do this? Her personal life might be a mystery to me, but I know for a fact that a couple of months ago, she was dating someone called Jarod. That means, in the space of just a few weeks, she’s ditched Jarod, met Dean, and moved him into her house. Does she even know him? Did she bother to find out about him before she lured him into her bed?
I doubt it.
I shake my head as I make the turn into Maple Street and park my car behind the store. I might be due to go to Dawson’s place tonight, but I’m not very good company right now, and in any case, I need to check out the window at the front of the store. Katie and I have spent the last week creating a special ‘back to school’ display. We’ve never attempted anything like it before, and although we occasionally thought we’d bitten off more than we could chew, we got it finished this morning. The problem is, having Nash here and focusing on his bedroom means I haven’t had time to look at it from the outside. Katie has, and told me it looks fabulous, but I’d like to see it for myself.
After I’ve locked my car, I stride around onto Main Street, my head down, still full of thoughts of Dean. I’m not jealous. I’m mad. And getting madder by the minute.
I clench and unclench my fists as I walk, trying and failing to calm myself, and wondering if there’s anything I can do about the situation. Dean’s already living there, so it feels as though anything I do would be too little, too late, and in any case, I…
I walk straight into someone, startling out of my daydream as I knock them flying.
“Jesus. I’m so sorry,” I say, bending to help the poor woman from the sidewalk. “Are you o—okay?”
She looks up, and something weird happens. It’s like suddenly I’m aware of every heartbeat, every breath, every blink. Both mine and hers. And yet there’s nothing around us. I can’t feel the heat from the sun, or the hear the birds singing, or feel the wind in my hair. Nothing exists except me and this woman… this beautiful young woman.
She smiles, my heart flipping over in my chest, and I hold out my hand to her, helping her to her feet at last.
“Are you okay?” I repeat, and she nods her head, still looking up, even though she’s standing. Her honey-colored hair is tied in a ponytail, with a few loose strands framing her perfect face, and her sapphire blue eyes stare directly into mine. I want to kiss her soft pink lips and tell her I think I love her. But then she’d say I was mad. Wouldn’t she? I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I’m wondering about that myself.
“I’m fine,” she says. “It was just a bit of a shock.”
