“How are you?” I asked, then nodded at the swing without waiting for an answer. “That looks great. You made that?”
He glanced at it as if seeing it for the first time. “I did, yeah.” He didn’t add what I knew was true: for you.
“So, listen,” I began, but Michael spread his hands in front of him as if to stop my words.
“No, no, Addie. I owe you an apology.”
Oh God, no. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to stand here and listen to him tell me why we couldn’t be together, how things would never work. “No, it’s fine. I just needed to tell you that I’m leaving.”
“You’re—oh. You’re leaving.” When he said the words, they sounded flat. Empty.
“Yeah,” I said. “So I’ll stay for the haunted house, to help out. And then I’m headed back to New York.” My stomach twisted as I said the words out loud. But this was the plan. It was only feeling wrong because Michael was here, looking so sad.
“Okay,” he said, and I wished for him to beg me not to go, though I’d known he wouldn’t do that. He didn’t need me here, and I wasn’t part of his plan any more than he was part of mine. What we’d had was . . . wonderful. Magical. But that was only because it had been a fantasy.
“And with the house,” I began.
“I’ll just finish things up. Get it painted.”
“Right.” I felt uncomfortable, like I didn’t belong here at all. “And so you can finish up your six months, and then I’ll live here for three months after you move out. We can sell it after that.”
“You’re coming back?”
“I’ll have to, right?”
He nodded.
“At least part time. I’ll talk to Anders to see what’s permissible.”
“Right.” He looked disappointed again. “You understand, don’t you?” He said suddenly.
I shrugged. I didn’t want to hear what I already knew.
“It’s Daniel,” he went on, his eyes begging me to tell him it was okay. “I have to do better for him. Be the right kind of man.”
The unhappy kind, I wanted to say. But I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. “Okay,” I said instead. Wasn’t I leaving anyway? Who was I to tell him he was doing things wrong?
“I just have to see him succeed. Grow up and establish himself.”
“And then?” I asked.
“That’s it,” he said.
That was it. He refused to make any plans for himself, refused to do anything to claim a piece of his own happiness. Instead, he’d martyr himself in the name of his son, out of fear of his ex-wife, and in the name of being a better man. But he couldn’t see that half a man would never be enough for anyone, especially himself.
“Okay,” I said. “So I’ll see you Saturday afternoon to set up.”
“Right,” he said, sounding defeated as the porch lights illuminated his burnished hair from behind, making him look like he was wearing a halo. My heart twisted a little, watching him. It hurt for me, for what I felt like I’d gotten a tiny little taste of and then had snatched away. But it hurt more for him. Because if Michael Tucker were willing to accept that he deserved to be happy too, that maybe we were happy together, then I’d fight for it. But he had to fight first.
I turned and walked back out the big iron gates, feeling a little bit like I’d turned back the clock to the first days after I’d been home from New York.
My heart ached. My soul felt wrung out.
And I was tired. So tired.
31
Emmett Speaks
Michael
“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Emmett said, shaking his head Thursday at the store as we hauled heavy rubber matting from one place to another to make room for the fall seasonal items.
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked. My voice was harsh, and it matched my mood. I’d been angry and frustrated since the weekend, and having Addie stop by to tell me she was going back to New York just made the entire world look bleak and hopeless.
It was ridiculous. A week ago, I’d felt like every day was a new adventure, like even discovering a raccoon infestation was exciting.
Now?
There was nothing to look forward to but an endless parade of days without Daniel interspersed by days with him. The handoff of my son was the only thing that really marked time going forward and even that might potentially be coming to an end if Shelly had her way.
“It means,” Emmett said, coming to stand in front of me with his thick arms crossed and sweat trickling down his face. “That you are a dumbass.”
Virgil took up a spot next to Emmett, nodding his stringy-haired agreement.
“The first time I’ve heard you put more than two words together in five years it was to tell me that?” I asked, pushing around them to stack another heavy mat. The punishing work felt like a debt I owed, and I hoped it would wear me out enough to fall straight to sleep instead of laying for hours wondering what Addie was doing.
“That Tanner chick liked you, loser,” Emmett said.
Oh God. Was I really going to have to have a heart-to-heart with these two?
“Okay, thanks for your input.” I turned and picked up another mat.
“And you’re wrecking it,” he pointed out.
“She’s hot, too,” Virgil added.
“Enough,” I said spinning to face them, dropping the heavy mat between us with a thunk. “Enough. I know. I know what I did, and who with, and I don’t need you questioning the decision. I need to focus on raising my son, and on making sure Shelly sees me doing a good job at that so that I have the opportunity to continue doing it.”
“Why you letting her run your life, man?” Virgil asked.
I clenched my teeth. “Because she is the mother of my son.”
“So she gets a say about what you do with him, but not really about what you do with little Mike.” Virgil said.
“Little Mike?” I asked just before my brain caught up. “Oh for fuck’s sake, guys.”
“I wasn’t going to say this,” Virgil said quietly, leaning in. “But you were acting really happy there for a while. Like super happy.”
I was not enjoying this conversation at all. I glared at them both, willing them to suddenly morph into valuable employees. Quiet employees.
“Yeah, like you were in love even,” Emmett suggested.
“I am not in love with Addison Tanner!” I nearly yelled it, and Helen Manchester turned to stare at me, her hand midway between pulling a pair of garden gloves from the rack and stuffing them into her bag. “Mrs. Manchester, put those back,” I said.
“I won’t tell the Tanner girl you’re in love with her if you don’t tell Tess I took these,” Helen suggested.
Tess walked around the endcap of the aisle then, holding a potted plant. “Oh for the love of Warcraft, Gran.” She snatched the gloves from the old lady and hung them back up.
“Those were going to be a gift,” Mrs. Manchester sniffed. “For you.”
“Lovely,” Tess chirped, steering the old woman away.