Page 56 of Dreaming of Dawson

She frowns. “I imagine he did at the time. In which case, it’s all history, isn’t it? It’s just history he’s having trouble adapting to. I doubt he wants it to be like this, though. I mean… who would?”

“I agree with you.” I’m pretty sure he hates being the way he is. He certainly apologized for it enough times. “The question is, what can I do to help him?”

“You want to?” she asks, sounding surprised by the idea.

“Yes. Except I don’t know how.”

She nods, smiling. “I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure he’ll work it out,” she says.

“Will he?”

“Yes. I remember what Dawson used to be like before Stevie left, and he’s one of the nicest guys anyone could hope to meet. It might seem hard to believe, but he really is.”

“It’s not hard to believe at all.”

She tilts her head. “You like him, don’t you?” I can’t say ‘no’. But I don’t want to say ‘yes’, either. Not because it isn’t true, but because nothing can come of it. “It’s okay,” she says. “I won’t tell anyone.”

That’s just as well, because I’d be mortified if anything ever got back to Dawson.

I’m saved from the embarrassment of having to reply by the ringing of Peony’s phone. She answers it, and I realize thatit’s Archer, questioning something on the email I sent over just now. The interruption is welcome. I’m done talking. I’m done thinking. None of it seems to get me very far.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Peony asks as we wrap up for the day. Everything we needed to get done this morning is done, and she told me earlier she’s arranged to spend the afternoon with her friend, Laurel.

“I’m not going home. I’ve gotta head straight into town to pick up Aunt Bernie’s car from the auto repair shop. Levi needs it to be collected before two.” I check my watch and find it’s one-fifteen already. Where did that time go?

“I can take you into town instead,” she says.

“Would you? I’m not sure I’ll make it if I have to walk.”

“It’s fine.”

She turns away just as her phone rings, and I get on with clearing the table while she talks. Rory is lying on the floor, beneath an activity gym, and seems quite content, although I keep an eye on him, while Peony wanders into the kitchen, shaking her head, and pushing her fingers back through her hair, like she’s frustrated, or maybe even angry. I can’t tell which, and I wait for her to finish, coming back to me.

“Has something happened?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she says, putting her phone in her back pocket. “That was Sophia Norris.”

“Oh? Is there a problem?”

“Evidently. Although why she couldn’t have foreseen it before now, I don’t know.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s to do with her parents,” she says, checking the time and gathering her things together, lifting Rory from the floor, and grabbing her keys.

“What about them?”

“They’re divorced, and they don’t speak to each other, except through their lawyers.”

“Okay… and?”

“And that means they can’t be seated within twenty feet of each other.”

“Twenty feet? It has to be that precise?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t mention any legal restriction. She just said they had to be kept apart, and mentioned twenty feet as the required distance.”

“We haven’t allowed for that in any of the seating plans, either for the ceremony or the meal.”

---