Lizzie
Chapter Forty-Four
“Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend yet?” Simon asks.
“Uh, well...” I’m at a loss for what to say, and I glance at Holden, my eyes begging for a lifeline.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “We are, I think. Right, Lizette?”
The boyish grin he’s wearing distracts me from the anxiety that rises in me around having this conversation with Simon.
“Um, I think so. Probably?”
“I think you are. You kiss like you are.” Simon’s matter-of-fact tone and his nonchalant shrug make him seem completely unbothered.
Before I can do anything else, Holden takes a seat next to my son.
“Is that okay with you?” There’s a hint of endearing nervousness in Holden’s voice that isn’t usually present.
I sit down with them.
Simon looks between Holden and me, then smiles. “Yeah. I can tell you like each other—besides just the kissing, I mean.” He glances at Holden. “You’re nice to Mom, and you don’t be mean to me or hurt her like he—”
Simon’s eyes bulge and fly to mine as if he realizes he’s talking about something we don’t usually bring up.
“Sorry, Mama.”
I paint a smile on my face. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
My eyes dart to Holden’s, and his gaze bores into me.
Simon’s attention—thank goodness—becomes momentarily occupied by something on his tablet.
I shake my head just enough that Holden sees it. Now isn’t the time to have this discussion. Holden doesn’t look away from me, even for a second.
“I promise no one will hurt either of you as far as I can help it. I’ll stop at nothing to protect you both. Nothing.”
The intensity of his stare is too much, and I rise.
“Uh, I’m going to pull the cupcakes out of the oven to cool. You guys should get going soon.”
There’s a get-together, an end-of-the-season barbecue, at Tillie and Henry’s. Simon’s been bursting at the seams to get over there again to play with Layla’s animals.
“Simon, why don’t you run upstairs, wash your hands and face, and change your shirt, too? You’ve got cupcake batter on that one.”
I boop him on the nose, and he playfully swats me away.
“Okay.”
Simon shuts off his tablet and gathers his things, then stands. He glances over at Holden and looks him up and down.
“Holden, you should probably keep some clothes here, too, because you’re kind of messy like me.”
Holden glances down at his shirt, and his face falls.
“Darn it. How did I end up so messy, too?”
“‘Cause you were trying to eat the frosting after Mom made it, and it spilled on you when she caught you.”
Holden grins. “It was worth it.”
“Okay, you guys. Make sure you say goodbye to me before you go. Now scoot, Simon. You don’t want to be late.”
When Holden follows Simon upstairs, I think I’m safe from having to answer questions about Simon’s disclosure. I try not to think about that day if I can avoid it.
I’m wrong. Within two minutes, he’s back.
Holden approaches me from behind and wraps his arms around me. He kisses the top of my head.
“Simon’s getting ready. He’ll be down in a second.”
“Okay.” I let myself lean back into his embrace as I frost a few cupcakes from the first batch that came out of the oven earlier.
“Lizette...” His voice is tentative.
I sigh. “I don’t want to rehash the whole thing, so you’re going to get the basics, and then I need it to be done. Okay?”
“Okay,” he whispers near my ear.
“It was right before we moved here from Elladine. He found me there and inserted himself into my life, so I decided to close my bakery and go. When he found out I was leaving, he was enraged. That’s when he did it.”
“Hit you?” Holden’s voice quivers with fury.
“He didn’t hit me per se. H-he grabbed my upper arms and squeezed. And he... he shook me some.”
Holden cocoons me in his arms even tighter.
“Simon walked in and saw it. That’s all there is.”
I hear the upstairs door close and the patter of Simon’s little feet coming down the stairs, growing nearer every second.
“An ex?”
I tense. Then I step out of his hold and pivot to look at him. He doesn’t know. I just assumed he’d figure it out. I take a deep breath, then release it.
“Landon,” I whisper. “It was Landon.”
“I’m ready!” Simon yells as he walks into the kitchen.
Holden plasters a forced smile on for my boy, but I don’t miss that he clenches and unclenches his fists several times before he stops. Simon is bouncing with excitement when he looks to Holden.
“Are you ready? I don’t want Layla and Frankie to play with the chickens without me.”
“All right, buddy. You guys had better get going then.” I kneel and hug him.
“‘Kay. Don’t take too long to come. And don’t forget the cupcakes. Please.”
I laugh at his excitement. Oh, to have that kind of energy again.
“I won’t. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Save a hot dog for me.”
“Gotcha. Now I’m gonna go wait by the door in case you two want to kiss goodbye,” Simon says cheerfully.
“I love you,” Holden says.
He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips and then my forehead.
“Bye. I love you too.”
I want the conversation about Landon to be done, but I can see on Holden’s face that it’s weighing on him.
“We can talk more later. I don’t want to give it much more of our time and energy, though. Okay?”
Holden cups the side of my head with his strong hand. He’s quiet for several long seconds, staring off into space. Then he looks me in the eye and graces me with a subtle smile.
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
Holden and Simon leave, and I’m only a few feet away from the door to lock it when Simon comes racing back in.
“I forgot the kites!” he says as he races past me and up the stairs to our home.
He’s fast, but not quite fast enough, and the oven timer goes off.
Shoot.
I rush over to the oven and check the Bundt cake. I can’t let it burn. It’s for family dinner tomorrow at Holden’s mom’s house.
“Bye, Mom!” Simon yells as he races out the door again.
In his excitement, he slams it behind him, startling me.
“Bye,” I call to no one as I open the oven.
If the Bundt cake tastes anything like it smells, it’ll be delicious.
“Perfect, if I do say so myself.”
After pulling it out of the oven, I place it on the island to cool.
I wipe my hands on my apron, then eye the last six cupcakes I need to frost.
“All right, almost done,” I say to myself.
I pop my earbuds in to listen to my audiobook as I work.
I pick up the extra bowl of frosting and smile as I stir it.
It’s just an old glass bowl—nothing fancy—but it was my grandmother’s, and I love using it because it always makes me think of her.
Movement catches my eye in my peripheral vision, and I instinctively turn, expecting Simon again.
That’s when I accidentally drop my beloved bowl, and it shatters into many pieces on the floor.
It’s also when I remember that I forgot to lock the door.