Page 59 of Our Long Days
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
The second he disappears behind the curtain, Jo spins on me, hissing, “You’re being weird.” Her studious gaze tracks my face, looking for any hint of a lie.
“Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I am not being weird. I’m just stressed. We’re on a tight schedule with the summer camp. It didn’t help that I was out of action for a few days last week…”
I don’t need to go into the details. Jo reads between the lines.
“I’m sorry.” She grimaces, aware how intense my attacks can be. “Why didn’t you call? I hate the idea of you going through them alone.”
I’m not sure why I say it. “I wasn’t alone. Florence didn’t leave my side.”
I see it—the moment Jo pieces it all together. She’s too astute. My defensiveness and the fact I allowed someone to look after me during an attack is all she needs to know.
Our gazes drift to where Patrick talks with the store assistant.
“I won’t tell him,” she whispers, “but you need to do it. He deserves to know if something is happening?—”
“Happened,” I correct. Describing Florence as a one-night stand feels wrong. She’s more than that, and it isn’t exactly accurate. Technically, it happened twice, even if more clothes were involved the second time. “It happened. Nothing is going on anymore, so there’s nothing to tell.”
Jo considers this. “Before or after you hired her?”
I swallow. “Before. New Year’s.”
“I thought you two were acting strange.” She tilts her head, voice level. “Pat can be a little protective, but he means well. It comes with the territory of being the oldest sibling. He just wants what’s best for her.”
“Which isn’t me. Believe me, I know that already.”
She recoils. “That wasn’t what I was implying at all. You’reboth adults. Okay, it’s a little complicated, but who are we to tell you who you can and can’t be with?”
I hold up a hand, halting the conversation. “That’s not what this is. We both agreed it was a one time, nothing more. Christ, she’s my employee.”
Her lips turn down, as if she wants to fight me on it.
Elbows balanced on my knees, I bend forward, gaze falling to the small bump under her dress. “I’m sorry for shouting at you earlier.”
“We forgive you.” She rubs her belly, humming. “Do I need to give you a talk about wrapping it up or being careful with one another’s heart?”
I grimace. “I learned about the birds and the knees a long time ago. Thanks though,Mom.”
She chuckles, flicking my forehead. “It’s bees, you moron.”
“Huh?”
“You said ‘birds and the knees.’”
“I…” Fuck, I did, repeating exactly what Florence said the other day when she suddenly started talking about the goats having babies. I didn’t have the heart to remind her they were both male, and therefore, it was anatomically impossible.
Jo fights her smile.
“Shut up,” I mutter and readjust my hearing aid.
“You’ve been wearing that a lot more recently,” she observes. “Everything okay?”
My hand pauses. “Yeah. Hearing is still a little funky following the attack.”
She doesn’t make a fuss and rises from her seat to join Patrick, but not before leaving me with some words of wisdom. “Can I say one thing?”
I roll my eyes. “As if you need my permission.”
