Chapter 7 #3
“Is that right?” Ian said.
“Yep,” the boy replied.
I pulled out some sliced apples drizzled in a little lemon juice to keep them from turning, as well as some pretzels and cups of yogurt.
It was a simple meal. My mom used to make sandwiches like this as a special treat for my siblings and me. It had seemed like something a seven-year-old might enjoy. But it still made me feel good when George had taken a tentative first bite, and then his eyes had shot open in excitement.
We chatted while we ate. Ian told us about the deer they’d seen in the woods while filming.
George recounted the first few chapters of The Wild Robot.
The conversation was surprisingly easy and weirdly domestic.
But soon enough, Ian’s phone buzzed on the table, and he was needed back on set.
It was nice that he’d been able to take his break and spend it with his nephew instead of going to the small set trailer where he said he normally ate.
I imagined free time was hard to come by with such an irregular schedule.
So I was a little surprised when Ian managed to join us for lunch again the following day. It was a cold Thursday, and George and I were eating in the Apple House next to the space heater.
Ian approached from the orchard’s main entrance this time and brought with him a travel mug. He extended the cup in my direction after greeting us.
“What’s this?”
“Coffee,” he replied. “Junior and Nola have a really nice espresso machine back at the big house, and I’m getting pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”
I accepted the offering and took a hesitant sip. I thought George might have hidden a giggle, but I couldn’t be sure over the sound of all my taste buds screaming out in agony.
The coffee was so bitter and strong, it somehow tasted like burnt hair and pennies at the same time.
Ian watched me nervously. “How is it?”
I worked hard to school my features, thinking I should have been nominated for a fucking Academy Award. “It’s great. Thank you.”
Ian beamed, boyish pride and dimples on full display. I swore his ridiculous curled lashes fluttered with happiness. Christ, he was pretty. Good thing too, because he’d never be a barista.
But the thought had been nice. I took small sips and fought a wince each time.
As we were finishing up, Sophia made her way into the Apple House and greeted us all with a smile.
“Hey, bud,” she called to George. “We have that video call with your grandma and grandpa this afternoon. I came to get you.”
“Oh,” the boy said, shoulders sagging as he stared down at the table.
Ian and Sophia shared a look, and I wondered what that was about. All Ian had said about his parents was that they’d been unable to care for George. It was good that they still wanted to be part of his life. Right?
Eventually, Ian managed a smile and said, “That’s great, Georgie. You can tell them all about helping Miss Joan on the farm. I bet they’d love to hear about your mowing adventure yesterday. I know Darren really liked it when you told him last night.”
That made me smother a grin. I could just imagine Ian’s quiet, stoic bodyguard nodding along to the kid’s highly embellished story about cutting grass.
“Yeah, I guess,” George reluctantly admitted.
“And if it’s okay with your uncle and Sophia, you can come back over after your phone call,” I offered.
“Can I?” George’s hopeful little voice did something funny to my chest.
I’d never been particularly maternal. And I’d never really had someone so happy to spend time with me before.
“Sure,” Ian said, gifting me a grateful smile.
George packed away his trash. “Bye, Joan. See you in a little while.”
“Bye, George.”
My eyes cut to Ian, who hadn’t received a farewell.
He was watching his nephew take Sophia’s hand and walk outside.
The smile on Ian’s face fell away, and my heart ached watching the exchange.
I wasn’t sure why George kept his uncle at a distance, but it hurt to see the disappointment on Ian’s face.
When they reached the stairs leading out into the yard, Sophia leaned down and whispered something in George’s ear. After a second, the little boy turned and waved, calling, “Bye, Uncle Ian.”
The man across from me lit up like a Christmas tree. You would have never known that just a moment ago, he’d been crushed by George’s indifference. “Bye, Georgie. I’ll see you tonight.”
And then they were gone.
Ian stared after them for a long time.
Eventually, he noticed my attention and cleared his throat. “We’re still, uh, getting to know each other.”
“It’s none of my business.” Didn’t mean I wasn’t curious, though.
Ian’s gaze shifted to the remnants of our lunch, scattered on the table. He picked up a baby carrot but didn’t take a bite. “I’d only seen George twice before he came to live with me. My sister and I weren’t close.”
I nodded, understanding how that could happen. Candace and I grew apart when she lived in New York. “And George’s father?”
Ian shook his head. “Dawn was a single parent by choice. There was never a father in the picture.”
“I see.”
“My parents try to check in every couple of months. I emailed them a few weeks ago. I guess they set up the call with Soph.”
Ian was working really hard to make all of that sound normal. But it was what he didn’t say that came through the loudest. How Ian was the one working to make sure George had more family in his life.
Ian glanced at me briefly before studying the baby carrot he was still turning over in his hands. “It probably sounds strange to someone like you. You work with your siblings and parents. You’re very much in each other’s lives.”
“All families look different. There’s no right way to build one. Sometimes you do what you can with what you’re given. And other times, you go out and build your own. It’s as simple as that.”
Blue eyes rose to meet mine. Ian studied me silently, perhaps weighing the truth of my statement. He should know by now that I wouldn’t bullshit him about something important.
“You obviously care about George,” I added. “He’ll realize that. He’s a smart kid. He’ll come around.”
Ian nodded, unconvinced. Changing the subject, he said, “I heard they asked you to drive a tractor for the film.”
“I told Mercer he could do it.”
His grin was small, tinged with lingering sadness, like he still remembered our previous conversation. “I think Della wants to show a woman on the farm.”
“Why?”
“Well, she probably took to heart your passion for nontraditional roles in farming, what with the way you educated Archer.”
I frowned. “Who’s Archer?”
Ian burst out laughing. “Only you could lecture someone into submission and tears and then brush it aside as no big deal. Archer will probably retain that as a core memory. He’ll be on his deathbed telling the story to his family, desperate to repent.”
Ah, yes. The sexist moron with the clipboard.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, Archer. Excuse me. I don’t get the name of every youthful idiot in need of an education on feminism.”
Ian chuckled and finally popped the carrot into his mouth. “But seriously, you don’t think it would be fun to be in a major motion picture?”
“No? Should I?”
He stared at me in wonder. “I have literally never met someone so obviously unimpressed with all this.”
“You should meet more people.”
Ian’s bark of laughter nearly made me smile.
“That’s right,” he teased, still grinning. “You don’t like celebrities or anything celebrity adjacent.”
I waited for resentment to creep into his expression or accusation at the very least. But his eyes sparkled with amusement alone.
“That’s right,” I confirmed, knowing it would make him laugh.
And he did, shaking his head with what looked a lot like affection.
Part of me was still braced and ready for Ian to bring up the feelings he’d confessed. But he was acting like nothing ever happened. Like he hadn’t told me he wanted to date—or whatever—me, less than a week ago.
I was grateful that he wasn’t being weird. I barely wanted to deal with my own emotions. I couldn’t imagine juggling his, too.
We gathered up the rest of our trash and turned off the heater.
Making our way toward the exit of the Apple House, I told him seriously, “Be careful. That door has low clearance. You’ll need to watch your big, famous head on it.”
He was still grinning when he climbed into the side-by-side and drove away.