Page 128 of The Husband Hour
Lauren glanced around as Stephanie said, “Don’t look!”
She spotted him. “Okay, that’s unfortunate,” Lauren said. “But it’s the least of our concerns; Emerson’s here.”
Now it was Stephanie’s turn to indiscreetly look around the room. She mouthed, Shit. “I’m really having second thoughts about this.”
Lauren knew her sister had to be wishing for a glass of wine right about then, but she’d been sober for two weeks. It was for her own health, but also a gesture to her parents that she was intent on changing—as a person and as a mother.
“It will be fine. I’ll bring Ethan over. You don’t even have to talk to him.”
“Too late for that.”
Emerson was threading his way through the crowd, heading straight for them. He was taller and broader than any other man in the place, as well as less tan and more casually dressed.
“Where’s Ethan?” Lauren said.
“I’m not sure. The last I saw, he was sitting at a table with a few other kids. Near the front window.”
“Can you find him? The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”
Lauren was thinking the same thing. Stephanie slipped away before Emerson reached them, leaving Lauren alone with her former brother-in-law. After four years of not speaking to him at all, she had now dealt with him twice in one summer. How ironic that the last time he’d shown up, he’d warned her not to make Rory look bad. Now he was there to meet the son Rory’d had with her sister.
“I wish I could say it’s nice to see you,” she said.
“I guess that’s fair,” he replied. Then, glancing at her hand: “I see the ring is gone.”
“Yes, well, nothing like finding out your husband had a son with your sister to make a ring feel like empty symbolism.”
“That’s the most cynical thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, Lauren.”
“It’s just the truth.”
“Look, I have no idea what happened. But I do know that my brother never meant to hurt you. He did love you.”
“Wow. That’s the most generous thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“Like you said—just the truth. Now, where’s my nephew?”
Beth zested a lime, humming along with Carly Simon.
In the end, she’d decided to go full-on summer-experimental with her doughnuts. The one hundred and twenty guests would be treated to spicy chai, salty margarita, and campfire s’mores doughnuts. She would have to fry the s’mores doughnuts just minutes before dessert was served, since they had to be eaten immediately, while the chocolate and marshmallow were still gooey. The only thing she could prep ahead of time was the crushed graham crackers, butter, and sugar mixture she would use as a topping.
“You’re still busy in here? I thought maybe you’d have time to come out and enjoy yourself for a minute or two,” Howard said from the doorway, where he stood holding two glasses of prosecco.
“I am enjoying myself,” she said.
He smiled. “I brought you a drink.”
She waved him away. “I’m on the clock.”
He put the wineglasses down on a countertop. “So, is it like riding a bike? Do you feel like you never stopped catering?”
No, I just feel like I wish I’d never stopped. “In some ways. But it feels different because I appreciate it more now,” she said, putting down the grater.
“Well,” he said, looking around the industrial kitchen. “I’m proud of you.”
“You are?”
