2. Ethan
After the morning I’ve just had, I’m not thinking properly, and it takes me a minute to recognize that I’ve unnecessarily worried my best friend with my dramatic entrance. It wasn’t my intention to walk in and scare her, but with my head frazzled, I have inadvertently troubled her, too.
Or maybe she needs to be troubled. The situation has just gone from annoying to urgent.
“Of course I’ll help you! Tell me what happened!” Violet gasps, snapping me back to reality as I stare into her compassionate hazel eyes.
Immediately, I pull my gloved hands out of hers and laugh, shaking my head, feeling like an idiot. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking after what I just said.
“Wow,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “That was… I’m sorry.”
I take a deep breath and compose myself. I try to smile through her uncomprehending stare, and the server approaches the table.
“Hi, guys!” Addison, our server, greets us cheerfully, setting two glasses of water on the table. “Our special today is pulled pork with spiced fries and a side of coleslaw.”
I snicker and raise my chin at Violet. “You should know her well enough by now to know she’s going to get the all-day breakfast,” I reply. “Two eggs over easy, bacon well done. Rye toast with extra butter.”
I catch her smirk, but she says nothing as Addison scribbles the order down on her pad. “And you, Ethan?”
“The special sounds good to me.” I peek over the menu at Violet’s face again. Why does she look exceptionally pretty today? “With a soup. I could use something warm today. It’s freezing out there.”
“Drinks?” Addison asks.
“Coffee,” Violet and I chorus in unison.
“Noted. I’ll be right back.” Addison smiles at us and wanders off to get our orders in as my friend turns back to me.
“What is going on?” Violet scolds me, and I hang my head in shame.
“I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention, but things are getting really intense at the store. My mom has really been on my case about taking over.”
“Your mom is always on your case about taking over,” Violet reminds me, and that much is true.
“No. It’s been worse this past week or so,” I insist, hoping she’s taking me seriously.
“Why do you think so?” Violet asks thoughtfully, settling back in her chair to study my face pensively. I like the lipstick color she’s chosen, too, the subtle color accenting her dark hair and pale complexion. “Are they thinking about retiring?”
“Yes. The wheels are really turning in that direction now. Mom has been, well…” I inhale again, trying to recall my mom’s exact words. “She’s trying to plan a surprise retirement party for Dad. They seem to think I’m ready to take over.”
I wiggle out of my jacket.
“Woah,” Violet breathes. “That’s… a lot.”
I nod. “It is. So, you see why I need your help.”
Violet’s brow furrows. “You said that, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I mean, you won’t tell your parents the truth, that you really have no intention of ever taking over Bennet’s Hardware?—”
I hold up my hand, cringing as my head whips around to look for potential spies in the diner. All I see are other people eating, paying no attention to us at all. I exhale and turn my attention back toward her.
She snickers at me when she recognizes what I’m doing. “Would you relax? No one is going to run back to your dad and tell him what we’re talking about.”
Embarrassed, I nod in agreement. “You’re right. I just feel so guilty. I want to tell them the truth, but every time I get close to saying the words, my mom goes on about their retirement plans, and it stops me. How can I burst their bubble like that?”
“Not telling them is only going to make things worse,” Violet points out, folding her arms and cocking her head. A strand of dark hair falls in front of her eyes, and I stare blankly at her face, my mind racing. “They’re just going to keep planning their retirement, believing that you’re going to take over.”
“That’s why I need your help!” I groan. “I have to tell them something to get them off my back about this.”
My friend’s perfect eyebrows knit into a vee shape as Addison returns with our coffees.
“I’ll be back in a minute with your order,” she says, wandering off to check on her other tables.
“Why don’t you just tell them the truth?” Violet presses, reaching for the sugar dispenser.
As my hand closes around the plastic creamers in the white bowl, I consider what she’s saying. But the career path I really want to follow is ridiculous. How can I tell them that I have no interest in running the business they built?
“Did I lose you?” Violet’s voice brings me back to the present moment.
“Come on, Vee. You know them. They’re not just going to let me give up on the store.”
“You don’t know that,” Violet insists. “You haven’t given them a chance.”
I eye her, swallowing my next words before I can say them aloud. She’s never had an overbearing family. In fact, her mom was the opposite—never caring what happened in Violet’s life. I’m lucky my parents care so much, but my problems are just different from Violet’s.
But if she were in my shoes, she would understand better. If I tell Mom and Dad about my dream of opening a Christmas Tree farm, they’ll be crushed. My whole life, Dad has planned for me to take over Bennet’s Hardware. Never has it ever crossed his or Mom’s minds that I might want to do anything else.
“Look,” I say instead. “I am going to need to come up with some kind of game plan to get them off my case. That’s where you come in—if you’re willing.”
She picks up her cup and puts it to her lips, taking a small sip before answering. “Of course I’m willing. But I still think you should be honest with them.”
I ignore her well-intentioned advice. “I’ll let you know what I need exactly,” I tell her evasively.
Her burrow unfurls, and she sets her cup down. “You have no idea what you’re going to tell them, do you?” she sighs.
“Not yet,” I reply. “But I’ll think of something.”
Addison approaches the table again, and we move our coffees to make way for our steaming food, my stomach growling as I lay eyes on the order.
“This looks great, Addy,” I compliment her. “Thanks.”
“How’s the little one, Addy?” Violet asks when the server sets her breakfast down in front.
“She’s great! Loving kindergarten,” Addison gushes. “You need anything else?”
We both shake our heads, and she’s gone again, leaving us to dig in.
The food is delicious and hearty as always, our conversation stagnating as we fill our bellies for a moment, but eventually, we both put our forks down again and reach for our drinks.
“Have you heard from your mom?” I ask gently.
No one else would have noticed the way her pretty face twists up almost imperceivably at the mention of her mother, but Violet and I have been joined at the hip since second grade.
“Nope,” she answers brightly, taking a much longer sip of her coffee before setting it back down on the table. “And I don’t really expect to.”
“Is she still in Mexico?”
“Last I heard.”
I draw in a breath, anger overcoming me. I have never understood the way Violet’s mother can choose men over her own child, but she has been doing it for as long as I can remember.
“Never mind her,” I mutter, regretting now that I brought it up at all. “You’ll go to my parents’ house for Christmas like always, right?”
She nods, but her gaze falls over my shoulder, toward the window. For half a second, I drink in the way she bites on her lower lip, and I find myself holding my breath. Then, I break my gaze away and look back to see what has captured her attention and realize it’s started to snow again.
“At least we always know we’ll have a white Christmas in Montana, huh?” I tease, and predictably, Violet laughs. I say the same thing every year.
But she doesn’t look away, and when I glance back again, I see that she’s fixed her attention on a laughing couple who have crossed the road, slipping over the slush as they support one another, hand-in-hand.
Is she watching them?
My head swivels back, and my heart rate picks up a notch as an idea formulates in the back of my mind.
That might work…
Swallowing hard, I signal toward Addison as she wanders by. “Addy, can we get the bill here?” I ask. Violet gawks at me, and I drop my napkin from my lap to the table, excitement overtaking me.
“I’m not finished,” she complains, gesturing at her meal.
“Stay and finish,” I instruct her. “I’ll try to come back, but I think I just figured out how to get my parents off my back!”
Addison returns with the check, and I reach for it as Violet pulls her purse toward her, but I stop her, even though we’re accustomed to splitting our meals down the middle.
“My treat today,” I tell her, a slow grin forming on my mouth. Slowly, she pushes her bag back, her face rife with suspicion.
“What are you smiling at?” she asks, her lids narrowing warily. “What are you planning?”
“I’ll let you know if it works out,” I promise, digging my wallet out the back of my jeans and pulling out enough cash to cover the food and tip.
“Why don’t you tell me first?” she pleads. “The fact that you’re not saying anything concerns me.”
I wave at her dismissively. “I have an idea, but I don’t want to tell you yet,” I insist, but I don’t acknowledge that perhaps my best friend has an excellent point. Why don’t I bounce it off her? We talk about everything. I shove aside my doubts and jump to my feet, grabbing my jacket as I head toward the door. “If you’re not here when I get back, I’ll call you.”
Through my peripheral vision, I see Violet wants to follow me, but I know she won’t. “Ethan…”
I half stop and smile at her. “I promise I will tell you, but not right now.”
“I’m not sure I like the look on your face,” she calls after me. I wave, hurrying out into the lightly falling snow, willing my heartbeat to still as I play out the scene in my mind.
Bennet’s Hardware is only a block from the diner, and I’m under the green and white awning in less than two minutes, entering through the front door.
It’s busy at midday, but my mom isn’t on the register; it’s another employee. My dad is stocking paint near the office at the back, and I tap him on the shoulder, ushering him toward the back room.
“What’s going on, Ethan?” Dad asks, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose as he follows me into the office where my mom is hovering over mounds of paperwork. She barely looks up from the desk when we enter.
Closing the door, I draw in a deep breath and conjure the lie I want to tell them, but it sticks there. I can’t say it aloud.
“Ethan? What’s wrong?” My mother’s worried face motivates me, and I try again, reminding myself that this is the best thing for everyone.
“I need to talk to you about taking over the store,” I blurt out, avoiding my mom’s gentle hazel eyes. I look so much like her except for the height, which I inherited from my father. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.”
“Do what?” Dad is confused.
“Take it over when you retire.”
Wow. Saying the words aloud releases more in me than I realize I’ve been holding onto. It’s years of stress, sitting on my shoulders. But the feeling doesn’t last. Disappointment brews around me.
“What? What are you talking about?” Dad demands. “The store is your birthright. You were always going to take it over!”
I turn away and start pacing the small space. “That was before,” I say slowly, my pulse roaring in my ears now. I really don’t want to lie to them, but they will never let this go, and I’m not ready to tell them my real plans.
“Before what? You’re not making any sense, Ethan!” My mother grows angry. “You’ve been dancing around the idea of taking over the store every time we bring it up. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
I draw in a deep breath and blurt out the lie I’ve conjured in the past fifteen minutes. “That was before I started dating someone and proposed to her.”
A long silence floods the room, forcing me to meet my mother’s eyes. I’m sure she’ll read the mistruth in my eyes immediately, but to my abject horror, she bursts into tears. “You’re dating someone? You’re getting married? And you never told me?” she gasps. “Why haven’t you introduced us?”
Shame steals my breath, and my father grunts in disappointment, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you would hide a girlfriend from us.”
My heart sinks at the suggestion, and I shake my head vehemently, but my mother doesn’t stop crying as my dad moves to comfort her.
“What does this have to do with taking over the store?” he growls, but he’s not looking at me. He’s as upset as Mom in his own way.
“She and I… we’re going to want to start our own lives together, Dad, do our own thing.”
“Are you ashamed of us? Is that what this is about?” he rasps, avoiding my mournful gaze.
“No!” I try to interject, but neither of them is listening to me now. Oh, this was a terrible idea. That’s why I didn’t bring it to Violet. She would have shot it down in a second.
Violet.
“No, what?” Dad asks me coldly. “You’re not ashamed? Why haven’t we met her?”
“I… You have met her,” I mumble, my life half-floating before my eyes as I speak the words aloud. Oh, I have to stop now. Just tell them the truth.
But it’s too late. I’ve already committed to the lie, and I need my mom to stop crying.
“We know her?” Mom demands, a baffled expression overtaking her face. “Who is she? Why haven’t you told us earlier?”
Oh, Vee, please forgive me for this, but you did promise to help…
“Ethan!” my father barks. “What is going on? Who did you propose to?”
Again, I inhale and pray that Violet will not hate me for this.
“It’s Violet. Violet Whitaker.”