Page 27

“So…how have you been?” I ask, sitting down across from him. It feels like such a brainless question, but I don’t know how else to begin.

“Good, I suppose.” He plays with his mug that’s almost empty.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, a bit,” he agrees.

You go from knowing someone like the back of your hand to becoming complete strangers.

I sigh, taking all of him in. I can’t seem to grasp the fact that he’s sitting in front of me right now.

“So, you mentioned that you work at the shop now?”

Sean sighs in relief, a smile ruffling his mouth. “Yeah, it’s been a year now.”

“Oh, wow.” Again, brainless.

He shrugs. “It’s a pretty easy job. I enjoy it. Plus, it helps my mom.”

“I’d think that would be more up Bailey’s alley than yours. Not that it isn’t great,” I defend.

“Yeah, I told my mom that exact same thing when she asked for my help. But, Bailey is busy with the kids and—”

“Bailey has kids?” I smile.

His sister, Bailey was the cool older sister I always wished I had. The married life was something she always wanted, so the fact that she has a family already is no surprise.

“Yeah, she’s got the whole package deal. Husband. Kids. Big house. She couldn’t work the shop because she homeschools the girls, so it’s what keeps me busy instead.”

He seems to be content—but not happy. I always thought those two had to coexist.

“What are you doing back in Lakewood?” he asks politely this time.

Something has changed in his eyes. They don’t light up like they used to. It breaks my heart a little. He isn’t that same boy I knew.

“I came back—” I pause.

I’m definitely not ready to talk about Graham with him, so I divert. “I came back for my dad. I wanted to spend more time with him.”

It’s not, not the truth.

“You guys were always close.”

A smile is about to break, but instead he brings his mug to his lips, drinking slowly.

It’s like he doesn’t want to give in.

“Yes. We were.”

I stare at his crow’s feet. There is something about a man who has a story written on his face. I don’t think I’ve changed as much as he has. I have no story written anywhere.

He rubs his chin as he says, “How are things with your stepmom?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “You remember.”

“It’s hard not to remember Eloise.”

I let out a laugh.