"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you last night by talking about your job. I might have been out of line there. If teaching makes you happy, that's great."
"It's okay. It's something I should give more thought."
Dad has no idea that this truly is the best time to consider whether I want to continue teaching. If I do stay at my job, it's going to be painful and hella complicated. There's another, more devious reason I'm glad Dad brought up my career. If I need to leave my school because of the Dan situation, at least Dad will think it's because I've had an epiphany about the direction of my life. Considering my mother cheated on him, he's the last person I want to find out about Dan.
* * *
Dad and Renataretire to bed early, but I'm not sleepy yet. After a long shower that includes a thorough tick check, I sit on the back porch and make a list on my phone of the things I'm going to need to get at the store, now that I'll be staying for a while: tampons, chocolate, a few more pairs of underwear. It's a beautiful night now that the humidity has finally dropped. The cicadas are humming, and I'm rocking on the porch glider in a peaceful rhythm. If Dad were only staying here for a few more weeks, like he'd originally planned, I might actually enjoy myself.
People Dad's age aren't supposed make rash decisions like this. He's supposed to be volunteering as a docent in a museum and playing pickleball. If I'm floundering at age twenty-eight, it's only natural. Can't I have my quarter-life crisis without worrying about Dad's life, too?
At ten o'clock I decide to call Hugh because I know he'll still be awake.
"This is going to be harder than I thought. Dad's got an adorable new family down here. I'm going to have to stay at least a week." I think about Dad's cute interaction with Harmony and Renata's good cooking. "Maybe two."
"Wait, who's living there besides Renata and Herb?"
I explain how Michael and Harmony live in Chapel Hill, but plan to move here soon. My voice tightens when I tell him about Seth and his cabin.
"Wait, she has two good looking sons living nearby?"
"Who said they're good looking?"
"I'm just guessing from the way you've described them," he says. "Are they?"
I push the floor with my feet to make the glider rock. Michael is objectively handsome, and there's a kindness and openness about him that enhance his good looks. He's a lot like his mom that way. Seth is a big hunk of sexy, but emotionally he's closed tighter than an oyster.
"They're both attractive. And she has a third son I haven't met yet, but I've seen pictures. He's pretty cute, too. He's a doctor in Manhattan, actually."
"Your life was so dull a month ago, and now you hook up with a married co-worker and then—”
I shiver and cut him off, "Please. Let's just refer to that lapse in judgment as 'the thing about which we never speak.' Like Voldemort."
Hugh ignores me and keeps listing, "...you jet south to bring back your dad and there's not one hot son in town but two! And one in New York for later! You'd better be careful. Someone's going to offer you a reality TV show."
"Yeah, well, the one in New York is engaged, and Michael is a recent widower."
"Well, at least the wife is dead this time."
"Hugh!" I hiss.
"Okay, okay. Sorry.” He sounds genuinely contrite. "That was in bad taste."
"And Seth isn't a biological son. He's a family friend who was orphaned, and Renata kind of adopted him as a teenager. I don't know the full story."
"Wow, this really is melodrama. And he's single?" Hugh asks.
"It would appear so. And based on his personality, I can see why."
"Let's move on to his looks. I need details."
Hugh is unabashedly shallow sometimes. Hell, all the time. I can almost hear him rest his chin in his palm as he waits for me to dish. I decide to be honest and appraise Seth as someone who doesn't intensely dislike him.
"He's about six-three and built like an oak. He was a Marine–stop moaning, Hugh–brown eyes that bore into your soul and dark hair, kind of long like it has grown out of a haircut. Interesting nose, sort of big and, I don't know, it works on his face. Oh, and full lips." How could I forget his lips. Women would pay hard cash to get lips like that.
"He's fucking Heathcliff meets Wolverine! I'm swooning over here. Now, if there is the opportunity to get him out of his clothes, like swimming in a lagoon or something—"
"Do you even know what a lagoon is? And are you even going to pretend to listen to what is going on with my dad?"
