Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Nice. What about you, Dylan?”
“Well, I’m flunking woodshop, which I didn’t want to take in the first place. They’re doing the math I did last year, so that’s boring as fuck.”
“Dylan, watch your mouth,” I say, firing him a warning glare that he completely ignores.
“And the cafeteria food sucks,” he says without missing a beat. “It’s just peachy. Thanks for asking.”
Jay lifts a brow and takes a bite of his burger.
Carter goes on a tangent and leads us through his day, hour by hour. Jay listens, asking questions and nodding along. Dylan looks like he could spit nails. I want to go to bed and not wake up until morning.
I knew this wasn’t going to go without hiccups. I knew Dylan was going to resist Jay joining us for dinner. But I didn’t expect my son to be so prickly.
Still, if I block out Dylan’s attitude problem—which isn’t exclusive to Jay being here—and focus instead on the dynamic between me, Carter, and Jay, it makes my heart sing. It’s so nice having someone else here. It’s so nice having a man here. It’s so nice having Jay here.
And I think Carter agrees.
I glance at Dylan and catch him fuming quietly at me. I don’t think he’s on the same page as me and Carter.
“Hey, Dylan,” Jay says, setting his drink on the table. “If it doesn’t rain tomorrow evening, I will come by and hang the new light your mom bought for the front porch. Think you’ll be around to lend me a hand?”
“Nope,” Dylan says without looking at him.
“Oh. All right. Not a problem,” Jay says. He catches my eye and winces. “Do you need any help with your woodworking class?”
Dylan slams his hamburger down on his plate. “No. I don’t need any help with my woodworking class. I don’t want to help you hang anything. I don’t even want you here, but I don’t have a say in that, I guess, huh, Mom?”
“You are going to stop that right now,” I say.
What on earth is going on here? I’m bamboozled. Sure, Dylan can be a jerk face, as Carter says, but the last time he interacted with Jay, it was much calmer. Respectful, even. What changed?
“Why? Or what?” He rolls his eyes. “This is my house, too, you know. I think expressing my thoughts on unwelcome guests in our house is perfectly acceptable.”
“Well, I like him here,” Carter says, holding a chip in the air. “And I invited him, so shut up, Dylan.”
“Don’t say shut up, Carter,” I say, the back of my neck pinching. “And you, Dylan, can express your thoughts on anything you want as long as you’re respectful.” I wait until his eyes meet mine. “Knock it off. I mean it.”
He sits up taller in his seat. “I’m not a little kid like you think I am. I know what’s going on. I know this jackass—”
“Go to your room, now,” I say, fury and embarrassment filling my words.
“—is your new boyfriend—”
“Jay is your boyfriend?” Carter says, his jaw falling to the floor. “So cool!”
“—and you’re happily forgetting that our dad just died. And you moved us from our home, where Dad is, and now you’re trying to throw a pathetic replacement on us,” Dylan says, his voice rising.
“You’re my mom’s boyfriend?” Carter asks Jay.
I don’t dare to even look across the table at Jay. I can imagine what he must be thinking. Knowing his soft spot for situations involving single mothers and kids, I bet he’s ready to get up and bolt for the door.
And I can’t blame him. A part of me would like to join him.
“Do you want to talk outside, man to man?” Jay asks, his tone steady. “I’d be happy to do that.”
“No, I don’t want to talk to you,” Dylan says, scooting his chair back. It squeaks across the floor. “I don’t even want you here.”
“Well, guess what. It’s not your choice,” I say, less cool than Jay. I’m racked with guilt, and logic, humiliation, and determination not to let my son ruin something good. “I’m not trying to replace your father, Dylan. But I am trying to live my life.”
“Do you even care about us? Or are you leaving us behind too?”
“Why are you being so mean, Dyl?” Carter asks.
My eyes fill with tears.
I don’t want to have this conversation in front of Jay. And I hate that we’re having it to begin with. I have avoided this for the last year, but this is what I need. I’m desperate for a life that’s mine—a reason to get up that’s for me.
The last couple of weeks have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Despite the mom guilt that comes along with every choice I make as a parent, I know, down deep, there’s nothing wrong with moving on.