“But why—?”
Lorna was saved from any interrogation about them by a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it!” Bean shouted, racing to yank open the door. His father was standing on the other side.
“Something smells good,” Seth said.
“We’re making brownies,” Bean said. “And Lorna gave me a notebook for my field notes.”
“Ah. Did you say thank you?”
Bean whipped around to Lorna. “Thank you,” he said dutifully.
“You’re very welcome.” Lorna couldn’t quite make eye contactwith Seth. Had he noticed her apartment? Her fixation with Precious Moments? Had he picked up on the lonely spinster life she was living in here? Because she really didn’t want him to see her that way. She wanted him to see her as a capable professional, a normal woman, someone worthy of his attention. And that desire was a little discombobulating. It made her feel anxious near him. “The brownies are almost done. I can bring him home when they’re finished.”
“No, Dad, come in,” Bean said. “Remember all the little people I told you about? I want to show you my favorites.”
Lorna noticed Seth’s gaze slide past her and into her living area, and she felt shame creeping up her neck as he took in her figurines. Bean had already grabbed some to show his dad—the one depicting the dog and a boy, and one of a boy with a fishing pole. “Wait,” she said weakly, but it was too late.
“These are my favorites,” Bean said, holding them up for Seth to see.
“Yeah, I can see why those would be your favorites,” Seth said, but his gaze strayed to the hundreds more. He looked at Lorna curiously. “Are you an art collector?”
Sweet of him to pretend this was art. She was more of an emotions collector. “Sort of.” She wanted to die. All she really knew about this man was that he cried a lot and slept throughGunsmoke, that he was handsome and kind to her, and that she didn’t want him to think she was pathetic. Now she felt entirely conspicuous, like a troll living under a bridge with her stupid collection. Thank heaven for the oven, which beeped and saved her the utter humiliation of explaining her collection.It’s like I try to find scenes that I wish I’d had in my life but didn’t because I’m a stone-cold loser with a wildly dysfunctional family. Hope you don’t mind that your son and I are hanging out, because of course, there’s nothing weird about that.“Excuse me.” She hurried into thekitchen before Seth noticed the flame in her cheeks. What had ever made her buy so many of the damn things?
“Look!” she heard Bean say. “This is my notebook.”
“That’s a good one,” Seth said.
Lorna took the brownies out of the oven and put them on a rack.Please hurry the hell up and cool, she silently begged them. Then she could stuff a brownie in their hands and send Bean and Seth on their way. Probably she’d stuff the rest into her mouth to bury her shame.
“I’m really sorry,” Seth said.
Her head snapped up. “What?” She braced herself, expecting him to tell her that his son couldn’t be in this weird apartment wearing an apron, surrounded by her obsession with happy little scenes from life. “I’m supposed to get off work at three, but we’ve been having some issues lately.”
Thank goodness.“Oh. Yeah, it seems like you’re late a lot.” Her brain tried to claw back the words her mouth had issued, but it was too late. “Not... not that I... I noticed, that’s all. Not because I know when you work or anything, but...”
“But because Bean is always with your dog,” he said, helping her out.
“Yes,” she said, grateful to him for that small kindness.
“I know. I had a babysitter lined up, but she flaked on me. I’m trying to find after-school care for Bean.”
Lorna looked at the kid. His tongue was sticking out the corner of his mouth as he made notes in his new notebook.
“If Bean could just remember his key, it would help a lot,” Seth added, his eyes narrowing on his son, who, as far as Lorna could tell, was not paying his father the slightest heed.
“Maybe that’s asking a lot of a kid,” Lorna opined. And then inwardly groaned. “I’m sorry,” she said, and held up a hand before he could ask her where she got off. “There I go again.I have a terrible habit of stating opinions without being asked for them, but believe me, I know that uninformed opinions are the worst.”
“They kind of are,” he agreed. But he was smiling. He wasamused—not offended. That only made her care even more about whether he thought she was a loser.
But then Bean chimed in, “It’s hard for Lorna to make friends.”
“Bean!” his father exclaimed and apologized profusely to Lorna.
“No, it’s all right—I told him that,” Lorna admitted, her gaze on the brownies. “Just going through a bit of a rough patch on that front.”Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.She was making herself come off like a psycho now. She had utterly forgotten how to talk to a man. She was more like herself with Bean around—or at least herself as she remembered herself—and she didn’t want to lose that. She liked this kid a lot.
She liked Seth a lot.
