Page 114 of To Belong Together
She hopped up to follow him, but a throat cleared behind her.
“Erin.”
She turned toward the gruff voice and found Uncle Nick kneading his hands together.
“About your speech up there.”
She steeled herself for a critique, the little food she’d eaten sitting in her stomach like a sandbag.
John unloaded the plates and wandered toward the outside of the room, focused on his phone. Erin would much rather be by his side, figuring out whatever was bothering him, than talking with Nick. If she could know the cause of John’s mood, she could either assure herself their relationship wasn’t headed for disaster, or she could attempt to correct their course.
“That part about you not belonging anywhere.” Nick frowned at the tables surrounding them, but no one seemed to pay them much attention.
Erin’s cheeks burned. Why had she said that for her whole family to hear? She didn’t want to deal with this. She wanted to go after John. She needed him. Needed comfort and support. Needed one good, trustworthy shelter in her life.
“Your dad thought you were special. That God made you the way you are, and he wouldn’t have changed a thing.” Nick gulped. “I know things aren’t always easy at the shop. We don’t all see eye to eye, but you’re family. And your comeback rate is second to none, so despite any disagreements”—he met her gaze sheepishly—“I gave you that raise you asked for because of the quality of your work. No other reason.” His line of sight seemed to flick to John. “There will always be a place for you at Hirsh Auto.”
Oh. Had his threats been all hot air? If not, circumstances must’ve prompted him to reevaluate. He probably still didn’t value her the way her dad had, but the part about her comeback rate was the most straightforward compliment he’d ever given her.
And he’d given her the raise. That would help her and Mom immensely.
“Thanks.”
With a nod, Nick retreated toward the table where his wife sat, freeing Erin to join John.
Unaware of her approach, John rubbed the bridge of his nose as he slid his phone back into his pocket.
She touched his arm. “Are you coming over after this?”
He flinched, then focused. “Yeah, until eight.”
“What happens then?” She forced a smile. “Turn into a pumpkin?”
“Work obligations. I’m sorry.” As he looked at her, she realized that washer fluid matched the color of lakes filled with glacier runoff. His irises were iceberg blue. Fitting, because once again, she sensed she only knew the tip of the iceberg.
Were her suspicions based on emotion or fact?
She remembered how he’d been warm and concerned before the funeral, only to grow tense and quiet when the service started. Something had upset him, and to cause such a change, it must’ve been important.
Big.
Capable of sinking a relationship.
And though she’d wanted to fix things, the thought that had surfaced unbidden during the eulogy, the one about how he’d never be enough for her, followed by the one about how she’d never be enough for him…
How could she fix that?
Maybe her only hope was to stay the course as long as possible, enjoy every second of this that she could before she was left with nothing.
So instead of confronting the issue, she skirted it. “It’s okay. I’ll take what I can get.”
The dark driveto Gannon’s matched John’s mood. The lights at the gate should’ve been welcoming, but John fought an urge to speed past. Several cars, presumably those rented by the production crew, lined the loop by the front door. John pulled over behind them and got out, but he didn’t move toward the house. When he went in, he’d have to be “on” for his coworkers and probably cameras.
Instead, he leaned against the vehicle and focused on breathing through the pain in his chest, in his head, in his arm.
He’d fallen for Erin all over again watching her give that eulogy. The swell of desire to give her some comfort, any comfort, had brought tears to his eyes. Thankfully, she’d been staring at her paper too hard to notice.
But as the day had worn on, he’d had to try harder and harder to keep from confronting her. Sam might have the story about Erin getting a raise wrong, but a foreclosure seemed more straightforward. Why wouldn’t Erin have told him?
