Chapter 13
Paul dressed in khaki pants, a light-blue dress shirt, a striped tie and the navy-blue blazer he hadn’t worn since his dad’s funeral.
Inside one of the pockets, he found a mass card from the funeral, with a photo of George Martinez’s smiling face and the Bible verse they’d chosen from St. Timothy: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
He stared at the photo for a long moment, seeing himself and Alex in his father’s face. It was no surprise to either of them that their mother mistook them for him so frequently. They both looked like he had as a young man.
“I hope you’d understand, Dad,” he said, speaking to the photo on the laminated card. “I really care about Hope and Ethan. I’d never want to do anything to disappoint you, but I can’t seem to help the way I feel about her.”
Sighing, he returned the photo to the pocket where he’d found it, taking comfort in knowing it was there.
On a whim, he put on a little cologne while reminding himself that a funeral didn’t count as a date, even if he’d be going with Hope.
As much as he dreaded what promised to be a terribly sad event, he was glad to lend his support to her.
He went out to the kitchen, where he found her supervising breakfast for Ethan and Marion.
The sight of her in a formfitting black dress that wrapped at her waist with a small elegant bow on her hip made his mouth go dry.
Her hair fell in soft waves around her pretty face, and all he could think about was kissing her last night.
Before his body could react predictably, he forced those thoughts from his mind so he could focus on whatever she needed today.
“Morning, everyone,” Paul said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“Morning, honey,” Marion said. “You look very handsome.”
Paul took note of the unusually sharp look in his mother’s eyes and experienced a pang of longing for the loving mother she used to be.
“You look funny,” Ethan said with a goofy smile for Paul.
“He looks nice,” Hope told her son. “Go brush your teeth. Time to go.”
“I wanna go with you guys,” Ethan said.
“Nice try, but you’re going to school. Move it, mister.”
Ethan clomped off to the cabin to brush his teeth.
“Get your backpack, too,” Hope called after him. When she came around the counter into the kitchen, he got the full view of what three-inch heels did for her sexy legs.
“Wow,” he whispered.
“Same to you.”
They shared a small, intimate smile that let him know nothing had changed overnight. Relief flooded through him at that realization.
“How about I walk Ethan to the bus today?” he offered.
“I wouldn’t say no to that. These shoes are far more about style than they are about function.”
He took hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m digging your style.”
As her face heated with an appealing blush, she gazed into his eyes.
Paul had to remind himself that he was not allowed to kiss her right there in the kitchen with his mother at the table and her son coming back any second. But, damn, he wanted to.
The moment was lost when Ethan came barreling through the door, the screen slamming behind him.
Paul released her hand and turned his attention to Ethan. “Ready to go?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Paul is going to walk you to the bus today, E.”
“Okay.”
“Come give me a kiss.”
Ethan’s face wrinkled with displeasure.
“Give your mom a kiss,” Paul said.
He did as he was told while Paul picked up the backpack from where Ethan had dropped it on the floor.
Ethan went over to Marion and kissed her cheek. “Bye, Mrs. Marion.”
“Have a good day at school, honey,” Marion said.
Paul marveled at his mother’s lucidity whenever the little boy was around. He followed Ethan out the front door and down the driveway. They went past the retail store on their way up to the main road where the bus would pick him up.
“Can we check the pumpkins later?” Ethan asked.
“Sure.”
“Do you like my mom?”
Paul felt like he’d been hit in the gut by a full-grown pumpkin. “Um, well, yeah. I do. Is that okay?”
“It’s okay. She’s a nice mom.”
“Yes, she is. You’re very lucky to have her, and you shouldn’t make faces when she asks for a kiss.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“Yes, you did. You always do. I think it hurts her feelings when you do that.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do, so you can try harder.”
“I will.” After a brief pause, Ethan said, “She used to be sad a lot, but she’s better now. You won’t make her sad, will you?”
Once again, Paul felt sucker punched by the earnest expression on the boy’s adorable little face. “I’ll try really hard not to.”
Ethan seemed to think about that for a minute before he nodded. “Do you like to watch football on TV?”
Paul’s head spun from the rapidly shifting conversation. “I do. I’m a big Patriots fan.”
“Me, too. Maybe we can watch football sometime.”
“Any time you want. Alex likes to watch, too.”
“Cool. Here comes the bus. See you later.” He took off like a shot, covering the last twenty feet of driveway.
Paul jogged after him to make sure he didn’t get too close to the road or the bus as it came to a stop.
When Ethan was safely on the bus, Paul watched him take a seat.
Ethan smiled and waved.
Paul returned the smile and the wave. What a cute kid he was.
When he thought about what Ethan and Hope had been through with Ethan’s father, Paul felt enraged for both of them.
As he walked back to the house, he replayed the conversation with Ethan.
It touched him to know how concerned Ethan was about his mother.
Despite everything he’d been through, he was a good kid who didn’t seem damaged by the trauma of losing his father from his life so suddenly and dramatically.
Most of the credit for that went to Hope, who’d probably sacrificed her own well-being to see to his.
Knowing that made Paul want to make it up to her, to give her everything she’d been living without for so long now.
She was loading the dishwasher when he came back into the house. He took note of his mother’s occupation with the morning edition of the Gansett Gazette and went over to Hope.
“Everything okay with Ethan?”
“Yep, he’s on his way.” Before they could be interrupted, he said, “Where do you want to go this week?”
“Oh, I, um… I don’t know.”
“Anywhere you want as long as it’s drivable from Providence.”
She bit her lip as she thought about it. “There was this place we used to go with my grandparents on the Cape.”
“What’s the name of it?”
“It was called the Seaside Inn in Yarmouth. There was nothing fancy about it, but it’s right on the beach. My grandparents used to take my sister and me every year. I haven’t been there in ages. I don’t even know if it’s still there.”
“Sounds great. I’ll look into it.”
“You don’t have to… We don’t have to…”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Paul squeezed her shoulder and went to sit with his mother for a few minutes before they had to leave.
Jenny and Alex appeared a few minutes later, looking sleepy and dopey and sex drunk.
“Coffee,” Jenny said, making a beeline for the coffeepot.
“I just made a fresh pot,” Hope said.
“God bless you, woman. I need all the fortification I can get today. It’s seating chart day.”
“Better you than me,” Hope said, shuddering. “I’ll never get married again.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth when she winced. “Sorry, that wasn’t very nice of me to say when you’re so excited about your wedding.”
“No worries,” Jenny said, stirring cream into her coffee. “I get it. I’ve planned two weddings now, so I know what you mean. It’s a lot.”
Paul felt like he’d been gut punched yet again. She’d never get married again? Like ever? And Jenny didn’t know what Hope meant. She thought Hope was talking about the logistics of planning a wedding when Paul knew that Hope’s real opposition was to marriage itself. Great…
Just when he was beginning to feel optimistic that they were on the brink of starting something that could go the distance, she pulled the rug out from under him.
He wanted to be married someday. He wanted a family and a white picket fence and a minivan and all the trappings.
But apparently the woman he wanted didn’t share those dreams.
Before he could begin to process the fact that they had very different ideas about what the future might entail, Jenny’s phone rang, and she took a call from her friend Erin.
“Wait,” Jenny said, “what happened?” Pausing to listen, she said, “Oh my God! I’ll be right over to take you to the clinic. No, I’ll get someone to cover. Of course I’ll take you. I’ll be right there.”
“What happened?” Alex asked when she ended the call.
“Erin sprained her ankle last night, or at least she thinks it’s a sprain. She needs to get it looked at, so I’m going to take her to the clinic. I’ll figure out coverage at the store.”
“I hope she’s okay,” Alex said.
“Me, too.”
With a knock on the front door, Daisy arrived to stay with Marion while Hope went to the funeral.
As usual, Paul’s mother was thrilled to see her friend Daisy, whom she unfailingly called by name even as she confused her own sons.
When Hope had fully briefed Daisy on everything she needed to know to care for Marion for a few hours, Paul followed her out of the house.
He held the passenger-side door for her and waited for her to get settled before he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side.
He wanted to ask her if she’d meant what she’d said to Jenny, but what right did he have to dig into such issues when everything between them was so new?
What had probably been a throwaway comment to her had rocked him profoundly.
If she honestly felt that way, he’d be a fool to go all-in with her and Ethan, and he hated that they would have to have that conversation before things went any further.
“Everything okay?” she asked when they were on their way.