Page 37 of A Night to Remember

I stash my phone in my purse. I can see there’s no use pretending. “Yes, Mom, he was nice to me.”

She raises her eyebrows at me.

“Okay, it wasgreat,” I lean in and whisper. “I didn’t know it could be like that, you know? Maybe I’ve only been with duds before, or maybe he and I are just a better fit, but it was… great.” Words fail me.

Meg smiles warmly. “Sweetie, that’s wonderful.” She wraps me in a hug. “He seems like a good guy.”

I laugh. “Have you been vetting him?”

Meg laughs back and smiles a little sheepishly. “Not exactlyvetting, just pleasantly chatting with Mark Pritchard and Nancy Meadows when they come in here for lunch. His colleagues at the courthouse,” she explains in response to my puzzled expression. “They really like him,” she continues. “It seems like he’s great at the work, and I think Mark is relieved that there might be someone decent to take the reins. He’s been looking to retire.”

“Oh, but Gabe isn’t planning to stay in town,” I reply quickly, furrowing my brow. “He’ll pass the bar, go someplace else, and become the hotshot attorney his dad wants him to be.”

Meg studies me. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

I feel unease squirm through me. A fling is one thing, but if he stays long term…? I’m definitely not looking for a relationship. I wonder how soon my mom can refinance so I can start planning my own escape from Kentwood.

“I really can’t…” I stammer, foundering under her steady gaze. “I mean, I like him, but arelationship… I’d be giving up everythingIwant, everything I’ve put on hold...”

Meg’s expression softens slightly. “I know your dad left you guys, and maybe you haven’t had such great models, but relationships don’t have to hold you back. Having someone you love in your corner can make it possible to take risks that you wouldn’t otherwise.”

I shake my head and look away from her, trying not to cry. “My mom never touched her painting after she and my dad split. She was left withnothing?—”

“Sweetie, she was left withyou. Don’t you think she would rather have hadyouthan a painting career, if it came down to it?”

I don’t know how to answer that. Mom has never shared her regrets with me. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have them.

“Kayla, listen to me,” Meg says, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. “There are things in life that are more important than professional goals. And besides,” she continues, “I don’t think Gabe Wilson is the kind of guy who would walk out on anyone.”

This is probably true. I’m still beating myself up over the way I treated him, tryingnot to remember, but then of courseactually remembering, all the nice things he has ever done for me. And every part of me from the neck down has clearly decided that Gabe is amazing. Which is, of course, terrifying. I stare at my sneakers, still stained with beer from the night at Mickey’s.

“Does Gabe know you feel this way about relationships?” Meg asks.

“No, and I appreciate your advice, but really, we’re just friends. He’s here temporarily, I’m here temporarily, and we’re just… passing the time. That’s all.” I force myself to hold her gaze, trying to make myself sound more confident than I feel.

“You know about his break-up with Gretchen Meier, right?” She looks at me seriously.

“Yes, but?—”

“So don’t break this poor guy’s heart, okay?” I start to protest again, but before I can speak, Meg squeezes my arm and heads back to work.

11:30 AM on a Sunday.Protestants. Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, the odd Episcopalian, all in desperate need of omelets, scrambled eggs, eggs sunny-side up, eggs over easy. And coffee, coffee, coffee. I rush back and forth to the kitchen, balancing heavy trays, expertly avoiding the heads of small children running maniacally to and fro like dogs that have just been let off the leash. I’m on what feels like the thousandth trip back to the kitchen because, my God, the people needketchup, it’s a ketchup emergency out there, someone’s going to burn the place down if I don’t get ketchupright now, when I stop short, practically squirting the stuff all over the man suddenly blocking my way.

“Adam,” I say with a weak smile. Gabe’s brother looms over me, eclipsing the light from the dining room. He’s maybe a hair shorter than Gabe, but still a big guy. Gabe’s handsome features are coarser on him. His nose is bigger, his eyes closer together. I am definitely less impressed by his biceps. He’s scowling at me now and standing in a posture I can only describe as threatening.

“The bathrooms are on the other side,” I tell him, trying to edge past him. “Would you please excuse me, I’ve got to?—”

“Are you sleeping with my brother?” he growls at me.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Are you sleeping with him?”

“That’s absolutely none of your business.”

“That’s not a no.”

“What onearthgives you the right?—”

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