Chapter 39
E WAN
I see his silhouette through the window guarding the main door, and we end the conversation instantaneously before I open the door.
Ezra looks at me, a few flecks of snow caught in his hair.
A smile tugs at my lips.
I look him up and down before pulling him into my chest.
“How did you know I was home?” I ask.
“I called your driver yesterday morning. He said you’d be back this evening.”
“No fucking way. I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you'd spend some time with your girl. What brings you here?’
He looks all right.
In one piece.
No girl, though.
I peek over his shoulder.
“You drove here?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s your leg?”
“It’s all right.”
“You should’ve called someone. Anyone could’ve given you a ride.”
“Nah. I wanted to come here by myself.”
Something doesn’t feel right.
“You remembered the passcode?”
“Yup. Can I come in?”
I jerk back.
“Yeah. Of course,” I say, realizing we’re talking in front of the door.
And then I hesitate.
“What’s wrong?” he says, noticing the shift in my demeanor.
If my driver talked to him, he surely didn’t give him a detailed report on where I was and who I was with.
“Is there someone inside?” he asks, a smile on his lips.
“Uh… Yes.”
“Who is it?”
Despite the cold, I close the door and walk outside.
“Who is it, Dad?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll see her in a moment.”
“Her. Is it the cute school teacher?”
His eyes glimmer.
I shush him.
“Be quiet. She can hear you.”
“You brought the school teacher home?”
“This is not exactly our home, and you know it.”
“Whatever. Is she inside? I want to see her.”
“You need to behave if you want to see her.”
“I will. Just let me in.”
I run my eyes over him again and notice the small backpack he carries over his shoulder.
“So, why exactly are you here?”
“Amanda and I got into an argument tonight, and I hated to spend the night in the city.”
“Was it serious?”
“She wanted to know how I felt about her.”
“It was serious,” I say, having a feeling that he and I are going through the same type of problem with our women.
“Okay. You can sleep here.”
“Of course I’ll sleep here. That’s why I came.”
“And I’ll let you in. But you have to tame your enthusiasm around her. It’s not like she and I are together together, and I don’t need a blunder to ruin everything I have with her right now.”
“You spent Christmas with her.”
“Who told you that?”
He laughs.
“You just did right now.”
I playfully smack him upside the head.
“I said behave.”
“Right. Let me in.”
Hand glued to the doorknob, I review my options.
There are none.
“Dad, we need to go in.”
“Yeah. Okay. Let’s go in,” I say and push the door open before inviting him in.
SCARLETT
I miss most of their conversation because he’s talking to a man outside the door.
I see nothing.
I only catch the sound of their deep, low voices.
Who is that?
And why are they talking outside the door?
My pulse races as I can’t calm down.
Eventually, the door opens, and two men walk in.
They are about the same height.
The guest has a thinner frame than Ewan, but he is still muscular.
I fall back into the kitchen, rush to the oven, and get busy with the tray when their steps ring in the door, and I push upright with a rehearsed grin.
“Oh. Hi,” I say, staring at the young man who looks just like Ewan.
He’s like... what? Twenty?
Oh.
He’s nineteen ?
My heart drops as my lips pull apart and my tray tilts to a dangerous angle, the carrots starting to slide.
Amused, the guest gestures at my tray, and I look down and put it on the counter.
Everything I feel right now gets crumpled and pushed back while I pretend to be unfazed.
His eyes explode with light while taking me in.
Incredulous, he turns to Ewan, who witnesses our verbal and nonverbal exchange in complete silence.
“Is that her?”
Her?
“Hi,” I say, stretching my hand out and walking around the counter. “I’m Scarlett. Scarlett Beauchamp. People call me Scarlet. And you?”
“I’m Ezra.”
He looks at Ewan, seeking his approval on something, his hand engulfing mine.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” he asks Ewan, who looks at both of us with a blank expression on his face as if saying, 'Let the chips fall where they may.’
“Know what?” I chirp, my hand still hostage.
Ezra shoots his eyes back to me.
“Ewan is my father.”
His hand tightens around mine as if he knows I need some help to remain standing.
My eyes shift to Ewan.
“I didn’t plan it to happen like this,” he says.
He probably didn’t plan it to happen at all.
“Isn’t she cute?” Ezra says, and I retrieve my hand from his.
“Ezra?” Ewan growls, and I gather that they have some understanding about how this is supposed to unfold.
Okay. Things are awkward for a few seconds before I get a grip.
“Is Ezra staying? Maybe we should eat in the dining room,” I say, looking at Ewan.
“Oh. I’d love to,” Ezra says. “I’m famished. It smells delicious.”
He walks past me and goes to the counter to check the food while Ewan’s eyes meet mine.
He’s more concerned with what I think than his son eating our dinner.
His son??
“Can you show me to the dining room?” I ask Ewan, and he quickly gets the drift and goes along with my plan to make this evening as smooth and pleasant as possible.
SCARLETT
“Did you wash your hands?” I ask as Ezra is about to slide into his seat.
A smile sprouts at the corners of his lips before he moves his eyes to his father.
He has a lot of fun.
Ewan?
Not so much.
“Go wash your hands, son,” he says in a do-not-fuck- with-me voice.
Ezra straightens and moves quietly away from the dining table while I try not to start a conversation as his steps trail down the corridor.
Still, I can’t not flick my eyes to Ewan, who watches me slide the tray of food to the center of the table.
“Do you need anything else?” he asks.
“A few candles would be nice.”
That almost sounded like I snapped.
We’re like a couple about to start a fight.
I sound mad.
He sounds like someone who’s walking on a minefield.
Our eyes meet briefly, and I’m right.
We both know there’s a lot to talk about, especially since his tall, athletic son is on his way back.
How could he not mention him?
For one, he has a kid. And his kid is a man who was in an accident the night he was supposed to play Santa.
He is little Colley’s cousin, which means Ewan is related to Colley’s mother.
Oh, my.
Elisa knows him? Of course she does.
Who is Elisa in all this?
Is she Ewan’s sister?
No, I don’t think so.
She’s never mentioned having a brother.
She did mention in passing that she used to spend her summers at a beach house with her sister.
She never talked about her sister again, and I always thought the woman had moved someplace else.
If my intuition is right, that woman was Ewan’s wife and Ezra’s mother.
And again, Ewan has a nineteen-year-old son? How old was he when he became a father?
He must’ve been eighteen years old.
A wave of panic rolls through me. Ezra’s mother must’ve been Ewan’s first love.
Somehow, I feel hopeless.
Despite knowing each other for only a short time and mostly having fun––intently having fun––the last few days have been more than sex.
I just started to feel the flames of emotions licking at my soul, and he seemed different, more thoughtful and tender than ever, and now this?
No matter the rationale behind omitting to tell me he had a son, the reality of it makes me crumble inside.
I’m mad at him.
And I’m mad at me.
And now what?
Are we going to deny in front of his kid that we have been seeing each other?
That ship has sailed.
The young man rounding the table with a smile on his face gets a kick out of this.
He’s the most cheerful around the table when he takes a seat and piles up food on his plate.
“Aren’t you two eating?” he asks, grabbing a fork.
I toss a glance at Ewan.
“Yes. Of course, we’re eating. Scarlett?”
He holds the chair for me, and I have no other choice than to graciously slide into my seat. Ezra looks at us like he’s taking notes in his head.
He loves to be here and see us embarrassed and with grievances that need to be aired.
For the first few minutes, the atmosphere is intense, and not talking doesn’t help.
Eventually, Ezra speaks again.
“Listen… I had no idea my father had a guest,” he says, and I press a napkin against my lips, waiting for him to continue.
Ezra locks my eyes.
“My father talked about you,” he says, his irresistible charm inherited from his father.
“And Colley talked my ear off about you, too. He convinced me to play Santa, but I couldn’t, and here we are.
Things do happen for a reason. Talking about an awkward family dinner,” he muses, focusing on his food again.
“My cousin has a crush on you. As it turns out, my father has a crush on you, too. You’re his best kept secret. ”
“Not anymore,” Ewan retorts.
“Right. Well, I’m happy that we’re here. Sooner or later, this would have happened anyway. It’s better to clear things out before we face the rest of the family.”
He shifts his eyes to his father.
“Does Elisa know you’re seeing Miss Beauchamp?”
“Scarlett,” I correct him.
“No one knows anything,” Ewan mutters, looking at me.
Setting my elbows on the table and clasping my fingers under my chin I wait for him to continue.
“Scarlett and I…” he says, moving his eyes to his plate and collecting a piece of food before putting it in his mouth, “have struck a friendship.”
“Uh-huh,” Ezra says around his food, a knowing smile tilting his lips.
A few moments of silence hover over the table before I toss the napkin on the table.
“Anyone wants dessert?” I ask, putting an end to this painful conversation.
“I do,” Ezra says.
“I do, too,” I mutter, pushing to my feet and moving away from the dining table.
“Excuse me,” Ewan’s voice echoes behind me as I pull away from the table.
The door closes behind him when I walk into the kitchen and spin around to him like a pinata.