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He grins and I drive along the back of Dawson’s parking lot. It’s already quite full, and I’m relieved I won’t need to park there later.
“Have you enjoyed the weekend?” I ask, glancing in the mirror again.
Nash nods his head, but doesn’t reply. He’s probably tired, after such a busy few days, but it was good for us to spend so much time together, and I know he really likes his writing desk. Writing and reading are two of his favorite hobbies, which I guess is hardly a surprise when he’s been brought up around books. But at least the weekend hasn’t all been about work, and we’ve had a great time down by the creek… although I know I’ll pay for it when we get back to Sabrina’s and she sees the state of his clothes.
We make the rest of the journey in silence, and on the few occasions when I glance back at Nash, I notice he’s gazing out the window, with a faraway look on his face. I wonder if he’s thinking about his bedroom, or about starting school tomorrow, and I recall how much I used to hate the last day of the summer recess, when it felt like all the fun was about to end… forever.
Of course, it wasn’t. There would be another recess… and another, and another. But it didn’t feel that way at the time.
I park outside Sabrina’s house, which is a modern, sterile, three-bedroom place on the edge of Willmont Vale. It’s not somewhere I’d want to live, but it’s Sabrina’s choice, not mine.
I’m just paying for it.
And I guess I should be grateful she moved out of Hart’s Creek when we split up. We may only be six miles apart, but it’s enough. At least there’s no danger of us bumping into each other, and it saved me from having to move myself.
We’re both natives of Hart’s Creek, and initially, I thought she might make things difficult and insist I should be the one to leave town. I’d prepared my argument… namely that I have a bookstore on Main Street which is impossible to relocate. Part of me expected Sabrina to argue that she had her own business too, and I’d even decided on my counter-argument, which was going to be that moving an interior design company was much simpler… especially when she used to travel to visit her clients, while mine have to come to my store.
As it happened, she didn’t raise any objections at all, and announced quite calmly that she would be the one to move… like she was doing me a favor.
I guess, in a way, she was.
Although it was hard to be grateful, considering what she’d done.
I get out of the car, opening the rear door for Nash, and he climbs down, the two of us walking up the footpath together, although I leave Nash to ring the doorbell.
One day, he’ll be old enough to have a key of his own, and personally, I can’t wait. It’ll mean I won’t have to make polite noises on the doorstep anymore.
I feel myself tense at the sound of Sabrina’s voice, although I can’t make out what she’s saying – or rather, yelling – and then the door opens, and I take a half step back, looking up into the face of a very handsome young man. And by ‘young’, I mean probably no older than twenty-five. He’s wearing sweatpants and a vest top, which shows off his muscular build, as well as his tan and the tattoos that decorate his arms and shoulders. His light brown hair is tousled, like he just got out of bed… which wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest, knowing Sabrina.
He smiles down at Nash, like he knows him, and then moves back to let him into the house.
“See you Friday, Dad,” Nash says, turning to me as he steps up over the threshold.
“Sure.” I do my best to smile, despite my confusion… a feeling that doesn’t seem to be mirrored by my son, who’s obviously familiar with this man.
At that moment, Sabrina appears, grabbing the man by the arm. “I told you, I’d get the door,” she says through gritted teeth, and there’s a part of me that almost feels sorry for the guy. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of my ex-wife’s wrath, and I get the feeling he’s about to find out for himself.
“I know what you said, honey, but don’t you think it’s time you told your ex about me?”
His eyes are fixed on me, but I tilt my head at Sabrina, and then realize Nash is still standing behind her.
“I think you’d better go upstairs,” I say, and she turns her head, noticing him, too.
Luckily for Nash, she’s too distracted to remark on his wet clothes, and simply mutters, “Do as your father says.”
Nash glances at me and I nod my head, waiting until he’s disappeared up the stairs before I return my gaze to my former wife.
“What is it you’re supposed to be telling me?”
“Nothing,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
I shake my head at her and turn my attention to the young man. “If she’s not gonna tell me who you are, do you wanna do the honors?”
He holds out his hand. “Sure. I’m Dean. I’m Sabrina’s boyfriend.”
I glare at his hand until he realizes I’m not about to respond, and then he lowers it again, looking embarrassed.
“Is he living here?” I say, addressing my question to Sabrina.
