Chapter 4 #2
If I hadn’t already let myself start to like Goodman as a person, watching the way he gave Aiden a hundred percent of his attention would have done it. The sunshine in Goodman’s grin could have powered cities, and Aiden blossomed beneath it.
Aiden pushed up from the table and put his bowl in the sink. “I’m gonna go see the calf again!”
I looked at Webb, expecting him to shut that down since Aiden didn’t have the day off like Em did, but he was frowning down at his phone and not paying attention.
“Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you’d be doing soccer sprints in gym today, Aiden?” Goodman asked. “You need your gym clothes, right?”
“Oh, shoot.” Aiden winced. “I forgot. Thanks, Gage.” He ran off toward his room.
“Yeah, thanks, Gage,” Webb said, belatedly glancing up from his phone.
Goodman shrugged. “Sure. Hey, Webb, remember I was saying that I might need to borrow a truck this week? I ordered tensiometers and some other parts for the new irrigation system—you know, to measure the soil wetness?—and they arrived at the warehouse in Boston, but they’re having a huge issue getting them packed and shipped up here, so I told them I’d try to arrange to pick them up.
I could take my car, but my car’s tiny, and I’m honestly not sure how big they are. ”
“Oh, sure,” Webb agreed. “No problem. You can drive a standard, right?”
“I…” Goodman hesitated. “Technically yes. My cousin Fenn forced me to learn. I haven’t done it in a hot minute, and never on crowded mountain roads, but how hard could it be? It’s like riding a bike, right?”
“Oh, sure,” Drew agreed. “Like a two-ton bike. A bike with a clutch, if you will. Just take it slow and you’ll be fine.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Drew was right—the only way to learn how to drive these roads was to do it, and Goodman was probably a competent driver, so he’d be fine. Plus, the roads were so busy around here these days, he wouldn’t be going above a crawl until he hit the highway.
Still, the idea of him going alone gnawed at me for reasons I couldn’t put a finger on.
I envisioned him going down one of the steep embankments just five or ten miles outside of the Hollow in a soaking rain—I mean, sure there was no rain in the forecast, but you never knew—and stalling out or sliding.
The thought made my chest go tight.
All is well with me.
I am in control.
It would be ludicrous for me to take him, obviously. I wasn’t his boss. But someone else really should.
Webb was frowning down at his phone again, so I kicked him gently under the table.
He looked up. “Huh?”
“Goodman doesn’t have much practice on a standard, and parking might be tricky in the city. What do you think about that?” I lifted an eyebrow significantly, trying to convey what I thought he should think about that.
“Oh. Uh. I’ll drive you, Gage,” Webb offered.
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary—” Goodman began.
“It is, though,” I interjected, despite no one asking my opinion.
“Route 26 around here is like one giant pothole. And do you know how many moose-related driving accidents there are in Vermont each year? Moose are like incredibly tall cows, Goodman. Cows on steroids. Like, if The Rock and a cow had a hungry, aggressive baby, it would be a moose.”
“Oh.” Goodman’s jaw dropped.
Drew snorted. “In no realm is that accurate, Ranger Rick, and you know it. Besides, this time of year, that part of the drive is thirty minutes of flatlanders creeping along at five miles an hour. And once he’s on the highway, he’ll be fine.”
This was almost definitely true.
And yet I found myself saying, “What about when he’s coming back in the evening? Moose are out a lot at dusk.”
“So, Gage will be cautious.” Drew shrugged like he didn’t get my problem. “Right, Gage?”
We both turned to Goodman, who nodded vehemently. “Yeah, no, I… yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Webb,” I said sharply again.
“Huh?” Webb blinked up from his phone again. “Oh. Totally. Yeah, I agree with you,” Webb said, clearly not understanding what he was agreeing to. “Sounds good.”
Drew shook his head and smiled. “And people say I’m the strangest Sunday.” He set down his mug and pushed up on his crutches. “Come on, Hawk. Best way to remove glitter is with baby oil, and I just happen to have a bottle kicking around my bathroom drawer from the last rave I went to.”
“So, when do you need Webb to take you to Boston?” I asked as the others left.
Goodman scraped up the last of his oatmeal. “Anytime. Today’s great. Tomorrow’s fine. Monday’s good. I don’t know if they’re open on the weekend.”
Webb opened his mouth to speak, but then his phone vibrated audibly, and he scowled down at it.
“Oh, shoot! Dad!” Aiden called breathlessly, rushing back into the kitchen. “I forgot Mr. Williams says I need a show-and-tell thing that starts with the letter V! What do we have that starts with V? Dad?”
Webb glanced up distractedly. “What? Sorry, kiddo, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I’ve got this. I have a perfect idea for you, Aiden,” Goodman piped up. He grabbed his bowl and jumped up from the table. “Come look in the fridge with me.”
Webb began typing on his phone and barely noticed when they walked away, which wasn’t like him.
Damn it all.
I looked around the table for someone—anyone—who was better qualified to have a feelsy conversation with my brother than I was, but of course, the one time I wished someone else was around was the one time the kitchen table was absurdly empty.
“Hey.” I leaned over, plucked the phone from Webb’s hand like the annoying older brother I was, and set it facedown. “What’s going on with you?”
“Huh? Nothing. Just…” He licked his lips, looked to make sure Aiden was still occupied with Goodman, and said hesitantly, “Amanda might come to town this weekend.”
“Amanda? Your ex-wife Amanda? For fuck’s sake why?” I hissed in a low voice.
Nicely done, Knox. Nothing says nonjudgmental listening like hissing.
“Because she has friends here? That’s what she says anyway,” he whispered bitterly. “But while she’s here, she wants to stop by and see…” He jerked his head toward the refrigerator significantly. “And I told her no. Flat out. She’s not happy about that, and she’s letting me know it.”
I grimaced. “Can you stop her from seeing him, though? Legally, I mean? What were the terms of your custody agreement exactly?”
“When we divorced, we signed paperwork saying we have joint custody, though I have primary physical custody because she moved out of town. Technically, I’m supposed to make reasonable efforts to ensure she gets time with him when she’s around if she gives me proper notice, but…
Fuck, Knox, I don’t want to. The last time she blew through town, almost two years ago, she took him out for ice cream and fed him a bunch of lies about how she desperately wanted to see him more often, but I wasn’t allowing her to.
For weeks after that—after she’d fucked off back to Philadelphia or Moscow or Timbuktu—my son, my baby, cried like his heart was breaking every night and promised to be a good boy if I’d just allow her to come and see him.
And I didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d left town of her own free will. ”
“Damn.” I winced. “I had no idea.”
“I know,” he said tiredly. “It wasn’t your problem.
I didn’t wanna bother you, and I thought I had it under control.
I sat Drew down one night after Aiden was in bed and explained it all, mostly so he’d understand why the kid was being such a pain in the ass those first couple weeks after her visit, but he’s the only one I’ve told.
” He sighed, a heavy sound. “Drew thought I needed to go to court and officially get sole custody, but the lawyer I contacted wanted eight thousand dollars just for the retainer, and he told me that unless Amanda was a convicted felon, she’d probably still get visitation, so I didn’t bother.
I couldn’t justify spending the money, and I hoped she’d just…
stay gone. But now she’s back, at the busiest time of the year for the orchard—which she knows—and my choices are letting her see Aiden and fill his head with trash again or else legitimately being the asshole she says I am by not letting my son see his mother.
” His jaw firmed. “So I’m going with the option that protects him. ”
“Yes!” Aiden cried. “Gage, you rock!” He ran around the island to Webb’s side, brandishing a zucchini the size of my forearm. “Dad, look. Vegetable starts with V! Gage suggested it.”
“Wow,” I agreed solemnly. “Great job with letters, Goodman. Someday, we’ll teach you about numbers, and then there’ll be no holding you back, buddy.”
If Goodman was startled by my teasing, it only showed for half a second before his mouth curved in a grin, and he rubbed his eye with his middle finger behind Aiden’s back.
I started to smile in return, but my amusement died when Webb’s phone buzzed again on the tabletop.
He made a frustrated noise but managed to summon a smile for his son. “Aiden, get your backpack, okay? I’ll drop you at school.”
“M’kay. Mr. Williams says punctuality is super important. Punctuality, honesty, and respect,” he singsonged.
Webb rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Mr. Williams is a paragon of virtue who clearly knows every-flipping-thing.” He raised his voice and snapped, “You know who else says things you should listen to, Aiden? Me. So get your dang backpack right this dang minute, and don’t make me repeat myself, or you won’t see Diana until next year. Understand?”
Aiden looked confused for a moment, clearly not used to being spoken to so sharply. Then his eyes widened and filled with tears, and he ran for the stairs to his room.
Goodman and I exchanged a glance, and then he followed Aiden.
“Webb,” I said as gently as I could.
“I know! I know.” He blew out a frustrated breath and slammed his palm down on the table. “I didn’t mean to snap, but I’m just one person. Christ.”