Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
“The truth was that there was a time when I disliked the person I’d become.”
—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,
Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes
Sunday morning, we made the drive back to Two Harts and although neither of us mentioned it, there was an awareness between us now that was hard to deny. I couldn’t stop my eyes from sneaking peeks at him or the flutter in my chest when I caught him looking at me.
What was happening here? Did I like Abe? Did Abe like me? Why did I feel like I was in second grade and giddy with my first crush? Maybe I should send him a note:
Do you like me?
Check yes or no.
Halfway home, Abe’s phone rang. He answered and a voice chimed through the cab of the truck.
“It’s a boy, Abe. You have a nephew.” Abe’s mom, Steph, sniffled, her voice thick with emotion. “He’s just perfect.”
“Everyone’s healthy?”
“Everyone’s perfect. I’ll send you photos. He’s just so… so… beautiful.” She couldn’t say anything else, what with the sobbing and nose blowing.
“Mom, give me the phone,” someone said in the background. “You’re scaring the baby with the crying.”
“Here, talk to Cal.” After Cal, it was Mel, Cal’s wife, and then it was his mom again, and then his mom made the nurse say hi.
“Let that poor nurse go, Steph. The woman does not want to speak to Abe,” someone groused in the background. The line rustled as the phone changed hands. “I’ll be just a second. I’m going in the hallway to talk.”
Abe’s shoulders tensed and his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles were white.
“Son,” Abe’s dad, Eli, said after a moment.
“Congratulations, Grandpa,” Abe said.
“Thanks.” Eli cleared his throat and when he spoke again, his voice had a serious edge to it. “Listen, I need to talk to you.”
Abe sighed. “About?”
“I heard about you taking Iris Sampson to that wedding.”
I realized he had no idea I was in the car and could hear every word. I glanced at Abe. His jaw ticked. “Yeah. It wasn’t a secret.”
“Looks like someone needs to remind you that she’s a kid.”
A kid? I opened my mouth to correct him, but Abe shook his head and put a hand on my knee.
“It wasn’t like that,” Abe said. “You know she’s watching Hallie this summer. We’re friends, that’s all. Besides, she’s not a kid; she’s an adult.”
Ouch. My heart sank like a stone. Apparently, Abe would have checked no.
“People are already wondering about you two,” Eli said, not acknowledging anything Abe had said. “I’ve had five text messages today already.”
“Nothing is happening,” Abe said, irritation leaking into his voice.
“There better not be. You’re a helluva lot older than her. You need to be the responsible one. Can you do that for once?”
“Nothing is going on between us,” Abe said through gritted teeth. “She’s watching Hallie. That’s all.”
Yep, that definitely stung.
Eli made a noise of frustration. “And you took her to a wedding?”
“As a favor.”
“I hope so. Your mother could not handle it if you decided to take off again. It all but broke her the last time.”
I wondered how Eli himself had faired after Abe left. Had he been broken, too?
“Just stop. Stop it,” Abe said sharply.
“It needs to be said. If you can’t handle hearing it…” Eli’s voice trailed off but the implication was there anyway.
“I am an adult,” Abe bit out. “I have a kid. I moved my entire life back to Two Harts. I’m opening a business.
I’m here for Hallie to get to know her family.
I’m not going to put any of that in jeopardy.
” He shot me an unreadable look. “I have no plans to do anything with Iris Sampson except be her friend. Period.”
“Well, remember that,” Eli snapped.
I needed to remember that, too. The two kept talking, their voices sharp and concise, but I couldn’t process any of it.
I was too busy remembering every word Abe had just said.
He’d said them to his dad, yes, but I couldn’t help thinking that he’d wanted to make sure I heard them loud and clear too.
I have no plans to do anything with Iris Sampson except be her friend. Period.
Friends. That’s it. And that’s all it was ever going to be. Which was fine. Good, even. Abe didn’t need a recent college graduate who currently had no idea what to do with her life mucking his up. Obviously.
Not that there had been anything between us. I’d clearly gotten caught up in the whole wedding date thing. Which was all fake. Any feelings that might have started to creep in? Those were fake, too. They would have to be.
Why did it feel like I was gaslighting myself?
After the call ended, neither of us said a word.
It wasn’t one of those comfortable silences, either.
Abe’s fingers tapped rapidly on the steering wheel.
I stared out the window, watching the city scenery change to a long stretch of highway.
The silence weighed on me, growing heavier with each passing minute.
So, I did what I did best—I lied my face off.
“Thanks for the weekend. It was very kind of you.” Then to prove my point, I slugged him gently on the shoulder. “You’re a great friend.”
There. That was perfect.
Abe glanced at me, then back at the road, his face unusually blank. “Not a problem.”
“This whole favor thing is really working out for us.” I grabbed my purse and dug through it for that last piece of chocolate.
“Yeah.”
“Hallie will be back in school before you know it and I’ll be out of your hair.” I popped the chocolate in my mouth and spoke around it. “Life will go back to normal for both of us.”
Whatever normal would look like for me, anyway.
“Do you have something lined up then?” he asked casually, but a weird sort of tension radiated off him, making the muscles in his shoulders tense.
Of course not but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Besides, it was time for me to buckle down and figure that out. The last step in the article was to start applying to my dream jobs. Even though I still wasn’t sure what that was. So basically, that stupid thing hadn’t helped me at all.
“Not yet but I have a few opportunities I’m looking into.” No, I did not. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up on the other side of the country?” I tucked my purse on the floorboard and yawned. “Think I’ll take a nap. Unless you need me to drive.”
He shook his head. “I got it.”
I curled up next to the window and closed my eyes.
This whole conversation had gone perfect, no awkwardness, no rash displays of emotions, just the “not quite truth” truth.
He’d agreed with everything I said, too.
This was all for the best. In fact, I was kind of proud of myself for how I handled all this.
Except for one tiny detail that came to me just as I was falling asleep:
Abe always seemed to know when I was lying.