Page 79 of Room for Us
When I close the laptop, I look up to see Janice in the doorway again.
She says quickly, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. In person, without Daphne.”
“Uh-oh.”
She rolls her eyes. “Nothing bad.” She takes a few steps into the room and stops. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem… different.”
There’s no point playing dumb. “I feel different.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Our daughter is highly observant and emotionally intelligent. Which you know, obviously. But do you also know what she’s told me about her two days in Idaho?”
I sit up straighter. “No, what?”
“That you’re in love but got scared because you’ve never been in love, so you ran away.”
My heart whacks my ribs. “What a brat.”
“Is it true?” she asks softly.
Staring at my child’s mother, something occurs to me. “You know, Janice, our friendship is the longest I’ve ever had.”
She blinks, startled, and laughs. “That’s sad.”
I laugh with her. “Very sad. You’ve put up with a lot of my shit over the last eight years. I want you to know how much I appreciate you. I can’t imagine a better mom for Daphne.”
To my surprise, tears fill her eyes. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I wince. “Yeah? Sorry. I’m an asshole.”
Sniffing, she shakes her head. “You’ve never been an asshole, Ethan. Not really. But you have changed since Idaho. It’s like the massive chip on your shoulder fell off. Is Daphne right? What happened out there?”
Zoey.
Zoey happened.
“She’s right,” I admit. “I fell in love with my innkeeper.”
Janice blinks. “Why the hell did you come back early?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it!”
I sigh. “I tried. I asked her to come back to New York with me. She said no.”
Janice’s stare turns glacial. “You asked her to uproot her entire life and expected her to jump for joy? After two weeks together? What’s wrong with you?”
I grin. “If this is how best friends talk to each other, I take it back. You’re a stranger.”
She waggles a finger at me. “Don’t deflect.”
My shoulders sag. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t leave New York. I won’t leave Daphne!”
“Who says you have to leave your daughter?” she bleats. “You think Daphne wouldn’t want to spend weekends out there? Entire summers? And it’s not like you can’t publish a book from anywhere in the world. Or do you really love this city so much you don’t want to leave it?”
“I couldn’t care less about the city.”
“Then get on a damned plane back to Idaho! You owe it to yourself—and to your daughter—to find out if this is the real deal. And if it is, we’ll figure the rest out!”
