Page 9 of Those Two Words

This is where Harriet took her first steps. Where Ted and Claire told their friends and family they were expecting Florence. Where we all came to take pictures before prom. Where I came to cry on my mom’s shoulder after my high school boyfriend dumped me. Where I realized my feelings for Patrick went much further than friendship.

This place is both a safe haven and a reminder of some of my hardest days.

Patrick and Booth are in a state of shock and haven’t uttered a word since the news broke out. Booth is uncharacteristically quiet, and Patrick is hyper focused on something in front of him—I don’t think he’s blinked for minutes.

I decide to break the deafening silence. “Surely hiring me isn’t a smart business decision then? That’s going to cost you more money.”

That brings Patrick back into the room, because his eyes whip to mine. He just stares at me, and my god, I can feel all the words he isn’t speaking. I knew today would be hard. That seeing him for the first time in years would have those feelings I’d hoped had been pushed aside racing back to the surface at full force; I’m surprised they haven’t toppled me backward off the chair.

It’s crazy what time can do to someone, because there’s no way I ever thought of this man as boyish. I’m sure as heck not complaining, though, because Patrick is really pulling off the fine lines and creases around his eyes. I’d like to presume those lines are from laughing, I wouldn’t know though. It’s been so long since I heard it, and I’m not sure I even deserve to anymore.

The crooked nose he’s always hated after breaking it during a lacrosse game is still as endearing; so perfectly imperfect against his handsome features. The white scar on the cleft of his chin. Dark brows. A sharp jaw he used to keep clean is shadowed with stubble today. Perhaps she likes the stubble.

No, I’m not going down that road. I have no right to be angry or jealous.

“Listen, kids, I know this is a lot to take in right now, but please trust us on this decision.” Dad looks at me before casting his eyes to Patrick. “Hiring Johanna is the best thing for the restaurant right now.”

I almost want to laugh that my dad still refers to us as kids, considering I’m older than he was when he had me. Almost, because I’m too busy feeling weighed down by the sudden pressure from his last words.

“Take a couple of days to think about it. Both of you. If we can all agree, Johanna will manage the front of house, Booth the kitchen, and Patrick can oversee the general day-to-day and bar. The more hands on deck will free you up and give you the time you’ve struggled to find, Pat. It’s not a punishment, we know how hard you work.” I don’t know what his relationship with Patrick and Booth is like anymore, but from the looks on their faces, they trust my dad.

Both brothers nod their heads in unison, giving their silent agreement. And then four sets of eyes land on me. So much for Take a couple of days, because I’m feeling the pressure to make a decision here and now.

I think about what’s at stake. My family’s business. Memories of my mom and Ted. My already hopeless heart.

This isn’t what I expected to sign up for when Dad asked me to come back to town, and I’m still surprised I’m sitting here at this table despite all my fears and regrets. Maybe this is a way to prove to not only myself but everyone around me that I’m not the disappointment they think I am. It’s clear Patrick doesn’t want me here; a truth I’ll have to ignore for now.

This is definitely something I need to unpack with my therapist, and while my brain is screaming at me to slow down and think this through, I know this is what I need to do. Pride and heart be damned.

Pushing back my shoulders, I take a deep breath before speaking, my voice no longer wobbly.

“I’m in. Tell me when and I’m yours.”

five

PATRICK

I’m yours.

Words whispered in the dark of night. Two words that were breathlessly repeated over and over again when limbs were tangled in bedsheets. Two words that felt like a promise.

Words that quickly turned into a lie but have been branded on my heart and embedded in my brain since they were spoken. The burn still feels as fresh as the day I was marked.

I shake myself out of the somber memories and walk toward Lottie’s bathroom. I can’t see her putting up a fight at bedtime tonight, considering she spent the evening at my mom’s and chasing Graham’s dog, Curly, around in the snow for over an hour.

There are three bedrooms on the second floor; mine has the en suite bathroom, and Lottie has taken over the small one down the hallway. The other room is technically a guest room, but since all my family lives in town, it doesn’t get used much. There’s also one smaller room on the ground floor that I use as my study and home gym. The open plan kitchen and dining area is my favorite spot in the house, letting me catch up with Lottie about her day while I’m cooking dinner and she’s coloring at the dining table.

I might be a single guy, but I like to think my house is decorated with good taste; though, I have my mom and sister to thank for that. I began looking for a house to buy when Carrie was halfway through her pregnancy, knowing I’d need somewhere bigger to raise a child. Two months later I moved out of my one-bedroom apartment in the middle of town and closed on this four-bedroom, Victorian-style coastal home, on the outskirts of town. I wanted to make sure my kid would have a childhood similar to mine; with the ocean at their doorstep, endless space to get up to no good, and unconditional love at every corner of their life.

Carrie only lives a short drive away in Jacob’s Bluff, one of the neighboring towns, making it easy for Lottie to share her week with us both. She usually spends Wednesday to Saturday with Carrie and Sunday to Tuesday with me, though we’re pretty flexible. Carrie is an EMT, and her schedule is just as unpredictable as mine sometimes, but we try to keep it consistent for Lottie’s sake.

Although Lottie wasn’t planned, there would never be any doubt in anyone’s mind that she is loved, cared for, and supported. Carrie and I pride ourselves on showing her that even though we aren’t together like other parents, we show a united front and act like a team. I have never seen Carrie as anything more than a friend—and I know she shares the sentiment—but I love her for bringing my daughter into the world. Something I will forever be grateful for. Years ago, I saw myself raising a child with a different woman, but life had other plans for me.Young and naïve.

No one stuck around after the tense meeting today, and I’m not ashamed to say I went and hid in the back office while George went over some final details with Johanna.

My new coworker.

Jesus, what has my life come to? If someone had told me my week would start with her not only walking back into my life but that we’d be forced to work alongside each other at such high stakes, I would have laughed hysterically in their face. It appears that fate is now laughing in mine.

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