“So it sounds like he’d be okay with you and Jamie being together.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes when he first saw us…” I glance at the ceiling, remembering.
Cora winces again. “Ooh, ouch. That’s a tough one.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“I tried to be honest with him without overwhelming him or giving him more information than he could handle. I don’t know. I’m just so worried I messed that up, that I should have had better answers.” I roll a shoulder. “I lay awake at night thinking about all the different answers I could have given him.”
“You did the best you could, Elyse.”
“I know, but what if my best wasn’t good enough?” I tap the table with a finger. “And all this is exactly why I can’t date Jamie. This all resulted from Aiden seeing us kissone time.”
Cora nods. “Yeah, I guess I get that.”
“You guess?”
“But kids are adaptable. If parents handle these difficult situations with honesty and openness, then I think the kids can manage change. It was new and confusing. He loves you, and he wants you to be happy.”
“That is just it. My happiness isn’t his job—hishappiness ismyjob.”
“Elyse—”
“I need to pee.” I can’t handle this conversation any longer. “Just…give me a minute, okay?”
I leave our booth and head for the bathrooms at the back. I keep my head down and focus on getting to the bathroom and into a stall—I allow myself a few quick, sobbing breaths, and then shut it down. This is why I can’t be with Jamie. I can’t fall apart in public like this, and I can’t let Aiden see me like this…being his mom and taking care of him requires everything I’ve got, and I can’t afford any distractions.
Even kind, handsome, thoughtful, caring, and amazing distractions like Jamie Trent.
I spend a few moments in the bathroom stall, breathing, getting myself under control. And then I do my business and leave the stall, wash my hands, and exit the bathroom. This time, on the way back to our booth, I see something I wish I hadn’t.
Because there, in a booth in the back of the restaurant, huddled close and talking in low tones, are Jamie…and Debra Eisenhart.
Debra is a fifth-grade teacher, another Clayton transplant. She came to Clayton from California, with California good looks: tall, perfect wavy blond hair and pretty blue eyes, and a trim, tight body with curves in all the right places.
Sweet, funny, a great teacher.
Single. Young.
Looking for a husband.
She laughs at something Jamie says, leaning close and touching his arm.
My heels clack loudly against the tile floor. Jamie’s eyes go up, find mine, and he blanches.
My heartbeat trips, and then my stomach squeezes and my throat closes.
I shake my head, stand up straight, and let out a short, sharp breath. Lift my chin, and head for my booth.
I slide in opposite Cora, and I focus on breathing slowly and evenly.
Cora sees how upset I am and leans forward. “What? What happened? You look pissed, Elyse.”
“Jamie is here.” I close my eyes, but all I see is Debra laughing, leaning close to Jamie and touching his arm. “With Debra Eisenhart.”
“Ohh boy.” Cora rubs the bridge of her nose. “Like,withher, with her?”
“Seemed that way to me, judging based on body language.”
