Chapter 20
Ethan
The rhythmic pounding of his fists against the heavy bag in the garage came to an abrupt halt as Ranger let out a sharp, concerned whine from inside the house. Ethan wiped the sweat from his brow, breath steadying as he pulled off his gloves.
“What’s up, bud?” he called out, but the dog whined again, insistent this time.
Frowning, Ethan grabbed a towel, slung it over his shoulder, and stepped inside, immediately spotting Ranger perched at the bottom of the stairs, ears pricked forward, tail wagging anxiously.
That’s when he saw her.
His mom stood on the second step, gripping the railing with one frail hand, her other pressed to her chest as she took slow, shallow breaths.
“Hey, Ma,” Ethan said, keeping his tone easy, light. “Taking the scenic route down today?”
She huffed a soft laugh, but even that looked like it took effort. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Ethan raised a brow, hands on his hips. “You think Ranger was gonna let you take these stairs solo?” He glanced at the dog, ruffling his fur as he passed by. “Good boy.”
Ranger wagged his tail proudly.
Turning back to his mom, Ethan took the steps two at a time and crouched beside her. “Alright, let’s make this easier. Hands around my neck, I got you.”
“Ethan, I can—”
“Mom.” He shot her a look. “Just let me be a good son for five seconds, will ya?”
She sighed but gave him a fond smile before wrapping her arms around his neck. He lifted her easily, her weight almost nothing in his arms.
“See?” He started down the stairs carefully. “Told you, easy peasy.”
She chuckled against his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous, and you’re an amazing son.”
“You love it,” he teased, stepping into the kitchen and gently setting her down in a chair. “And you’re just in time for breakfast.”
“Ethan, sweetheart, you don’t have to cook—”
He grabbed a pan from the cabinet. “Nah, I do have to. It’s my turn to fuss over you, so just sit there, look pretty, and let me work my magic.”
His mom sighed, shaking her head with a soft smile. “Your magic, huh?”
“Five-star chef, right here,” Ethan said, gesturing to himself dramatically as he cracked an egg into the pan, discreetly removing some shell fragments.
Just then, his dad shuffled into the kitchen, looking like he’d had a rough night. He plopped down in a chair, rubbing a hand over his face.
Ethan smirked. “Rough night, Dad?”
His dad grumbled something incoherent. Ethan grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured him some coffee before setting it in front of him.
“Ah, the good stuff,” his dad muttered, inhaling the steam like it was the breath of life itself.
His mom chuckled. “You look like you aged ten years overnight.”
“Probably because my son makes me feel sixty instead of forty four,” his dad shot back, earning a laugh from Ethan.
Ethan flipped the eggs awkwardly and slid them onto a plate before grabbing the bread from the toaster. He set the plate in front of his mom before putting down a bowl of cereal for his dad.
His dad frowned at it. “Cereal?”
Ethan raised a brow. “Do you want an egg too?”
His dad crossed his arms. “Maybe.”
With an exaggerated groan, Ethan grabbed another egg, cracking it into the pan. “You’re both so needy , I swear.”
His mom laughed softly, shaking her head. “We really are lucky to have you, sweetheart.”
Ethan turned to the stove. He felt it deep in his chest, though—the quiet warmth of his mother’s love, even in the face of her illness.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, flipping the egg. “Just don’t start making me sound too soft.”
His dad smirked. “Too late.”
They ate together, easy conversation flowing between them, punctuating with laughter and playful jabs. Ethan was grateful for mornings like these—mornings where, for a little while, everything felt normal.
Then, his mom, ever the master of casual conversation, asked, “So, how’s Mark?”
Ethan leaned back in his chair, absently twirling a spoon between his fingers as he thought about how to answer his mom’s question.
Across from him, his dad sipped his coffee, waiting just as patiently for an answer.
Ethan cleared his throat, setting the spoon down with a clink. “He’s… good.”
His mom arched a brow, waiting for more.
Ethan sighed, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. He’s more than good. He’s—” He paused, searching for the right words. “He’s one of the most put-together guys I’ve ever met. Like, he’s got this whole successful lawyer thing going for him, right? Runs his cases like clockwork, wins just about everything he touches. But he’s also… genuine . Like, the kind of guy who doesn’t just care about winning, he actually cares about people.”
His dad set down his mug. “That’s rare for a lawyer.”
Ethan smirked. “Right? But it’s true. He’s not just some suit who only thinks about billable hours. He does a lot of pro-bono work. Fights for people who need it. He’s the real deal.”
His mom smiled, stirring her tea. “Sounds like you admire him.”
Ethan scoffed. “I mean, yeah. It’s kinda hard not to. The guy’s impressive.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And you should see his house. Jessica—his late wife—she had this vision for it, you know? The kind of place that feels like a home the second you walk in. She left behind all these sketches and notes, and now Mark is letting me finally finish everything she planned. It’s…” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s incredible, honestly. You can feel how much love went into every room.”
His mom’s smile softened. “Linda was very close to her. She told me that she was an amazing woman.”
“She was.” Ethan nodded. “Mark talks about her with so much respect. You can tell he loved her, like he really loved her. And now, finishing what she started—it’s like his way of honoring her.”
His dad folded his arms. “And you’re the one making it happen.”
Ethan shrugged, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “I mean, I’m just following her plans.”
His mom tilted her head. “You’re bringing them to life, sweetheart. That’s something special.”
Ethan swallowed, tapping his fingers on the table. He had been so caught up talking about Mark—about Jessica —that he hadn’t realized how much he had said. It wasn’t until he caught his parents exchanging a look that he suddenly felt exposed.
So, he backpedaled. Hard.
“But, uh, yeah, he’s nice,” Ethan said quickly, leaning back again. “Just a nice guy.”
His mom and dad didn’t buy it for a second.
“You should invite him over for dinner,” his mom said, her tone casual but firm.
Ethan blinked. “What?”
His dad nodded. “Yeah. If he’s such a great guy, and he’s been good to you, we’d like to meet him.”
Ethan shifted into his seat. “I mean… maybe.”
His mom gave him a knowing smile. “Bring him over. I’ll make lasagna.”
Ethan huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Bribing me with food? That’s low, Ma.”
She just shrugged, clearly unbothered. “It works.”
His dad smirked. “You do talk about him a lot.”
Ethan groaned, standing up to take his plate to the sink. “Okay, conversation over.”
His mom chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Ethan shot her a look over his shoulder. “It was a maybe .”
But even as he said it, he found himself wondering if maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Ethan had spent so much time helping Mark finish Jessica’s dream for their home, but for the first time, he realized that Mark had slowly started to become part of his life too. The thought made his chest tighten—excitement and uncertainty tangled together.
As he rinsed his plate, he caught himself smiling, shaking his head at how ridiculous it was.
Mark Jensen at his family’s dinner table.
Yeah. That was a thought that should not make his stomach flip.
And yet… it kind of did.