“I told her I didn’t want her to meet Tanner,” she said.
“Well,” I said as I brushed the tear away with my hand, “why don’t you fix that?”
CHAPTER 33
Last night, two amazing things happened. While talking with Ethan on the phone, I complained about my writer’s block and how Granny Fran’s latest adventure was eluding me. He asked me to tell him about the story, and I found that as I described the problem I was having with Chapter Four, I began to get excited about writing the scene. It was a relief to talk about something unrelated to Isabel’s death or Shannon’s pregnancy for a change, and I was grateful to him for the inspiration. I knew I had to be cautious, though. Writing had always been my refuge, and I didn’t want to use it as my escape any longer. I wanted to find a balance between my life and that of my characters. It was time for me to let reality in.
The second amazing thing was a phone call from Shannon in which she’d apologized for her reaction to discovering that I was seeing—and sleeping with—Ethan.
“It’s okay with me if you want to date,” she said. “I’m sorry I made a scene.”
I wondered where her change of heart had come from but decided to enjoy it rather than analyze it.
“Thank you, hon,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”
“And I want you to meet Tanner when he gets here,” she added.
“And I want to meet him,” I managed to say.
We decided to have a barbecue at my house once Tanner arrived so that he could meet my mother and Lucy and me all at once.
“Would that make him uncomfortable, though?” I asked. “I mean, would he be overwhelmed having to meet so many people at one time?”
“No, Mom.” A little of her usual testiness was back in her voice and I knew our truce was fragile. “He’s very cool about social situations and stuff.”
“Okay,” I said, and then I ended the conversation, afraid that if I dragged it out too long, we could move into dangerous territory—such as her proposed move to Colorado—and lose the ground we were gaining.
So I felt good as I drove to Bay Head Shores to visit Ethan this morning. Since it was the middle of the day in the middle of the week, the Parkway was not clogged with traffic, but I wouldn’t have cared one way or another. I would have made that drive to spend twenty minutes with him, if that’s all the time either of us could spare.
Ethan had told me that his father would be visiting him, so I picked up sandwiches at the deli for the three of us, wondering what it would be like to see Mr. Chapman again after all these years and what safe topics we might find to talk about. The day was lovely, if too hot, and the smell of the sandwiches in the bag on the passenger seat was enticing. The only twinge of anxiety I felt was when I turned onto Shore Boulevard and spotted the canal between two of the houses on my right. It was an involuntary reaction, a little twisting of something in my gut, but it had nearly disappeared by the time I reached Ethan’s house.
I saw a car behind Ethan’s truck in his driveway and assumed it was his father’s, so I parked in front of the house on the street. As I got out of my car, I noticed that a plump, dark-haired woman was sweeping sand from the stoop in front of my old bungalow. How many hundreds of times had I performed that same task on that same front step?
“Hi!” I called, waving with a bit too much enthusiasm.
She looked up and returned my wave, an uncertain smile on her face as she resumed her sweeping. She probably thought I was strange.
I started to knock on Ethan’s front screen door, but I could see straight through the house to his backyard and spotted him and his father sitting near the fence, facing the canal. I went into the house, dropped the sandwiches on the tiger-maple counter in the kitchen and walked outside. They didn’t see me as I approached and my eyes were drawn to the yard next door, where two little boys played noisily in the circular, above-ground pool under the shade of the oak tree. It bothered me that the mother was sweeping out front instead of in the yard watching them. Something could happen to them in a heartbeat.
“Hello!” I called as I neared the men.
Ethan stood when he saw me. Smiling, he moved forward, his hands on my arms as he planted a kiss on my cheek. “Good to see you,” he said.
Mr. Chapman was getting to his feet. It appeared to be a struggle for him.
“Don’t get up,” I said, walking toward him. He was already standing, though, and he took the hand I offered in both of his, his smile warm and kind. His fingers trembled as he held my hand. He seemed so much older than my mother. I understood why Ethan had wanted to protect him from Ned’s letter and the resulting investigation.
“Little Julie Bauer,” Mr. Chapman said. “How good to see you. You’ve grown into a handsome woman. Hasn’t she, Ethan?”
Ethan grinned at me. “Extremely handsome,” he said. He dragged a chair through the sand and set it behind me. “Have a seat,” he said.
“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Chapman,” I said as I sat down, and the elderly man lowered himself once more onto his chair. “I was very sorry to hear about Ned,” I added.
“Thank you,” he said with a nod. He was wearing sunglasses in dated, horn-rimmed frames and I wondered how long he had owned them.
“How was the drive?” Ethan asked. He was still standing, leaning against the back of his chair, arms folded across his chest. He had on his jeans and a navy-blue polo shirt,
“No problem at all,” I said. “I brought sandwiches and left them in the kitchen.”
“Great,” Ethan said. “You hungry, Dad?” He raised his voice a little when he spoke to his father, and I guessed the elderly man was hard-of-hearing.
“Sure.” Mr. Chapman nodded.
