Mompointed across the lake. “Rightthere is B. Davis’shouse.”
Gooseglanced behind him to ask, “Who?”
Igawked incredulously. “You don’t know who B. Davis is?”
“ShouldI?”
Dadshrugged. “He’s some author who moved here a while back.”
“No,no, no,” I chanted, shaking my head profusely and chopping my hands through theair. “He’s notsome author. He is one of the most prolific writers of mygeneration. Not to mention, he is living the actual dream. He landed aseven-figure book deal with his debut novel. That’s pretty much unheard of,unless you get really, really lucky.”
“Soundslike he got really, really lucky to me,” Goose jabbed, smirking a little.
“Well,yeah,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “But his work speaks for itself. It’sprofound and meaningful and—”
“Andyou’re totally fangirling over a guy who lives around the corner from yourparents place,” he laughed, not bothering to hide the envy deepening his blueeyes.
“Andyou’rejealous,” I teased, walking closer to poke him in the ribs.
“Nothingto be jealous of,” Goose said with pride, shaking his head. “I don’t need to bea millionaire to know my worth.”
“Oh,yeah? And what is your worth?”
Hewaggled his brows, wearing a smug grin. “Girlfriend. I’m priceless.”
***
Thedrive off Long Island was a slow one. Traffic from the weekend Montauk crowdwas heavy and I tapped my fingers against the window ledge, as Goose took Tonyout to find a tree to mark. The day had been nice, apart from my little upsetover the prospect of a shower, and I already missed the distraction of thehouse and lake.
Partof me felt guilty that I hadn’t thought about Alex much while I was there. Itwasn’t fair that my baby was in the hospital, while I got to enjoy the sun onmy face. Especially when he had never even seen the sun yet. But I had toremind myself that I still needed to live my life and retain some semblance ofhappiness and joy. I had toin order tobe the bestversion of me for him, ready for when he could finally come home.
Aftergetting Tony back into the car, Goose returned to the passenger seat andbuckled up. “You know, I told him to go before we left, but did he listen?Of coursenot …”
Ilaughed. “Kids.”
“Seriously.”
Pullingback onto the road, we began to crawl back into the city to a soundtrack ofhonking horns and Bastille, when Goose abruptly asked, “Have you decided whatyou’re doing yet?”
Iglanced across the car. “About what?”
“Ifyou’re going back home or not once Alex is out of the hospital.”
Myhands tightened on the wheel as I replied, “I don’t really know—”
“Youshould,” he interrupted without hesitation. “I know you weren’t sure before,but now that I’ve seen it, I really think you should go back.”
Itwasn’t what I would’ve expected from him, or any man in a relationship with thewoman he loved. I would have expected him to beg me to stay, to keep me closeto him. While I know he had once told me we would figure out how to make ourrelationship work, I never would’ve expected this eagerness for me to leave.
Iunintentionally gawked at him, then said, “You really think so?”
Henodded. “I think you would be stupid not to.”
Ilaughed, a sound with a harsh bite. “Wow, tell me how you really feel …”
“Kenny,come on. You don’t like living in the city and your parents have two bedroomsand a bathroom for you and the baby. You’d live on a quiet street, in a quietneighborhood, overlooking a goddamn lake. Why the hell would younotwant your kid to grow up there?”
Iknew he wasrightand that the alternative would befoolish, and if I was really looking out for the well-being of my son, I don’tknow that I could justify it.
