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“Peetty,” he agrees, making the lump in my throat swell.
I’m struggling to catch my breath with the fact that Summer and I haven’t spoken since she left yesterday. What I said to her was out of line, and I regret it massively. The hurt I caused her was palpable in her goodbye kiss.
Anxious energy builds deep in my gut, making it harder to get my wits in check as the gaping hole of Summer’s absence grows. Which leaves me completely unprepared for when the door opens, and instead of Ellen standing there, it’s Heather in her place.
Long, blonde hair wisps over her face and blue eyes. They’re the clearest I’ve seen since I can remember. Her skin has a healthy golden glow to it, even if she still appears far too skinny.
Maybe she has turned a corner?
“Parker…” She smiles at me. “Hi.”
“Say hi, East,” I tell him, unable to return her greeting myself, when he shrinks into me.
I can’t do this. Last time I saw her, she was cuffed to a hospital bed as the doctors tried to figure out what she almost overdosed on. Looking at her now, I’m trying to see past that, but I can’t forgive her.
Hiding his face in my neck, East waves at her. When I try to put him back down on his feet, he refuses to let go, tucking his legs up so that I have to keep holding him.
“Hey, buddy, don’t you want to see Grandma Ellen?” Looking between me and Heather, he hugs my neck tight enough that all I can do is hug him back tighter. “How about I take you inside?”
“There’s cake,” Heather murmurs. “I think it’s chocolate. Mom said it’s his favorite.”
It’s not. Easton’s favorite is yellow cake with funfetti sprinkles and lemon swirl buttercream.
“You like chocolate,” I tell him as I follow Heather through to the kitchen, where a group of women is standing around, sipping champagne and gushing over the shrimp salad.
The doors in the kitchen are open to the yard, where the cake table is set up beneath a gazebo. I wonder if any of these people actually know where Heather’s been or whether Ellen has told them all some wondrous tale to save face. Regardless, I head over to the far corner where it’s quiet and sit on the grass for a while, waiting for East to relax.
“You want monkey?” I ask, pulling the small stuffed monkey we got at the zoo last week from the diaper bag. Putting on a silly voice, I tickle him with it until he’s practically falling on his butt with laughter. “There’s my big boy!”
“Stop! Daddy! Daddy!” His laughter is contagious, even when Ellen approaches us, I’m still chuckling.
“Easton, darling, would you like to come take a photo with Grandma?” she asks him, clearly still pissed at me.
He looks between the two of us with uncertainty before I place his hand in hers and watch Ellen guide him toward the gazebo, where Heather is standing. It’s all I do for the best part of the next hour as I wander around the yard, trying to stay out of Easton’s sight so that he doesn’t keep running to me instead of indulging her.
Every time Heather tries to get close, he hides behind the monkey, it makes me wonder whether it’s more than just the fact he doesn’t know her well.
What if he remembers what happened?
Watching closely for any sign that he is in distress when Heather picks him up, I edge closer.
“I’m your mommy,” she tells him a little too harshly, plucking the monkey he uses to block her from his hands and throwing it on the grass. “I’m your mom.”
It’s impossible to stop myself from sweeping in and taking him from her when he pulls in a wet breath. Long sobs burst from him as I hold him to my chest.
“Here’s monkey.” Picking the stuffed animal from the ground and tucking it close to his face, I face Heather. “You’ll never change.”
“The toy is getting in the way.”
“You’re smothering him,” I growl as she tries to come close.
“You’re keeping him from me. I’m his mother…I…Parker!” she calls after me as I head back through the house, grabbing the diaper bag from one of the stools at the breakfast bar, where I put it earlier. “I just want to hold him…please.”
I don’t turn away from my escape, but she pushes in front of me.
“Please. It’s been so long and…” Tears fill her eyes, and as much as I want to tell her to go to hell, I can’t.
Guilt makes it impossible for me to do anything other than coax Easton to look at me before I spin him so that he’s facing her in the familiarity of my arms.
