Page 81 of Just a Distraction

“It’s one thing to like the Atlanta Braves when the whole family likes the Yankees. That’s hard enough.” I pause to shift into asmile, which she reciprocates. Thorin’s alert and ready to go, watching my hands with a bouncy anticipation as I straighten out the leash. “But this? It’s vulnerable. I can’t think of a single scenario that would be welcome if they found out I’m Thaddeus.”

Rose bends to retrieve Callum’s sneakers and then sits cross-legged on the entryway floor. “They don’t have to. Not yet, anyway. I don’t think you should tell them until you’re ready. But Milo? Have you ever thought about writing as a career?”

I scoff, even though it’s in my thoughts a lot these days. “And support a family on an author’s salary? That’s impossible.”

Callum toddles over to her, trips into her lap, and lifts up a foot. He knows the drill as well as Thorin does.

“Impossible? There are plenty of writers who make a decent amount of money off their writing.”

I can only grunt. I know that’s true, but I’m a long way from that, though, since I haven’t been able to get an agent yet.

“But Milo, you have a gift, and you obviously enjoy it.” She grits her teeth, attempting to wrangle Callum’s chubby foot into the shoe.

I’ve done it before. It should be top of the list of the most surprisingly hard parts of parenting.

“Do you actually want me to become a full-time writer?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m just asking you to not let go of your dreams.”

I join a giddy Thorin at the front door. He swipes a paw at it—like he’s knocking so I’ll open it and let him free. “Rose, part of me would love to make a living from my writing.” I’m starting to feel a stomachache coming on from all this vulnerability. “I can’t believe you finally know I’m Thaddeus Blackthorn.”

“Do you regret telling me?” She has Callum by the hand and follows me out the door, slinging her keychain off her wrist to lock it behind her.

“No,” I say.

“Milo, you’re kind of a big deal.” She reaches my side. Even though it’s crowded on the sidewalk, with Callum wandering to and fro and Thorin trying to break free from the heel command and lead the pack, it feels good that we’re all together like this.

“Do you realize this?” she continues. “You’re in the top one percent of all Turnip contributors. Your social media pages have hundreds of thousands of followers. You won an award given by Brandson Sanderson, for heaven’s sake.”

I can’t help my smile. “That one was really cool.”

“See?” She pushes against my shoulder. “I’m telling you, you’re good.”

“Thank you.” It’s such a hard thing to say when I’m used to anonymity. “Sanderson offered to look at my next manuscript after I won the award. I did some digging, and other people who’ve won it in years’ past? They’ve gotten book deals, Rose.”

“See? You could totally make this work.”

“Maybe someday. But I don’t want to quit on Sebastian. I owe it to him to keep doing the job he gave me. I like working with my brothers, and I’m not ready to give that up.”

There’s a part of me that feels like a cat, preening and purring at Rose’s praise. I feel truly alive when I’m creating stories, and I’m glad she sees that in my work.

She eases closer to me, and I feel the heat of her arm near mine. We’re both watching Callum as he weaves from one side of the walk to the other, making revving engine noises with his mouth.

“It’s admirable you want to have a traditional career. I know what it’s like to not have that,” she says.

I cut a glance at her in time to see her jaw tremble.

“Just promise me you won’t stop writing, okay?” She stops and turns to face me. “The world needs your words.” She gives a wry smile. “And I need to find out what’s going to happen at the end of Balthor and Zehma’s story. A lot of people are dying to know.”

I brush my hand along the back of my neck, holding the lead steady as Thorin tries to get us to go faster. “I want to finish the story soon. It’s hard to carve out enough time.”

“Maybe you should start coming over every other night, instead.”

At my glare, she hurries to explain. “I don’t want that. I miss you when you’re not here. But your writing’s important. It’s important to me, too. You can make this work as a solid career. If that means we spend less time with one another, I . . .” She trails off, staring at a place above my head, frowning. “I mean, I don’t like the idea. I just want to be a support to you.”

We resume the walk, and Rose urges Callum to stay close to her. “Do you think you could ever write at my place?” she asks. “My kitchen chairs are surprisingly comfortable. And I wouldn’t charge you for Wi-Fi.” She winks, and I step closer to her so I can wrap my arm around her shoulders.

“We can figure this out tomorrow, right?” I say, and then exhale a heavy breath. “I have to get used to having my secret out there.”

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