The Husband Hour(97)
“Better?”
“My mom said you were sick so we needed to give you some time alone for a while.”
“Oh! Well, yeah. I’m feeling better. But, um, we’ve kind of fallen behind on Harry Potter. How about some reading?”
The look on his face was her answer. She walked over to his shelf to pull out the book; her breath caught at the sight of the astronomy book.
“Ethan? Are you interested in the stars and planets?”
“I love the planets. I’m going to be an astronaut,” he said.
She took a deep breath, then asked, “Have you ever gone to the planetarium at the Franklin Institute?”
He shook his head no.
“I’ll take you,” she said.
“Cool,” he said. Then: “Aunt Lauren?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you crying?”
Chapter Fifty-Two
There was something calming, almost hypnotic, about watching the rings of dough bubble and bob in the fryer. And it smelled heavenly.
Beth struggled to narrow down the doughnut options for Nora’s party. Nora had asked for three varieties, and Beth was torn between traditional with a twist—German chocolate, apple-pie, and a vanilla glazed—or summer experimental, like salty margarita, spicy chai, or s’mores.
“Have you heard any news on the sublease?” Howard asked, startling her.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that. And no, I haven’t. Maybe you can call to follow up this week?”
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it. By the way, I was just in Lauren’s room. What’s with all the boxes? Is she moving out?”
“Those boxes are from the attic. She’s putting them in storage.”
“Great. Are you finished with the attic?”
“No. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Howard ran his hand through his hair, his ultimate expression of impatience.
“That’s the game plan? Living here for the rest of our lives with our adult daughter, raising her son?”
“Would that be the worst thing in the world?”
Howard sighed. “And what, Beth? You’re going to bake doughnuts for a living?”
“Why not?”
“And I should just…what?”
“I don’t know, Howard. And, frankly, that’s not my concern. I gave up doing what I loved professionally to help you with the store for thirty years. Now it’s my turn.”
Lauren piled the boxes by the front door for the storage company to pick up later in the afternoon. She headed to the kitchen for coffee but hearing her parents in a heated conversation, she turned around.
She sat on her bed and her phone pinged with a text. Matt—again.
He’d started texting days ago, telling her that he was thinking of her, that he was sorry she was upset but that he believed he was doing the right thing. I hope someday you can forgive me.
Lauren had deleted them all. She wasn’t the one whose forgiveness he would have to reckon with someday. Rory had a son who was about to have his life changed forever. She could only hope the press showed some mercy. If not, Stephanie would have to prepare herself. At the very least, she had to find a way to tell Ethan the truth before the media learned it.
She opened the top drawer of her nightstand, where a shallow glass bowl held her heart necklace, wedding band, engagement ring, and Rory’s dog tags. Storage wasn’t an option for these things, but neither was keeping them. Well, maybe the engagement ring. She couldn’t stand to part with it. It was too special. God, it was all so confusing. So much!
“Lauren?” Stephanie knocked on the door.
She closed the drawer. Maybe the storage people had shown up early.
“Come in.” She looked around for her wallet so she could tip the movers. “Are the guys out front?”
“What? No. I don’t think so,” Stephanie said, closing the door behind her.
“Oh. I thought…never mind.”
“I just wanted to thank you. I know you’ve been reading to Ethan again and…it means a lot to him. It can’t be easy for you and I want you to know that I understand that.”
Lauren nodded. “Have you decided when you’re going to tell him the truth?”
“No. I mean, before the film comes out, obviously.”
“I hate to say this,” Lauren said, “but I think there’s someone else you need to tell. Rory’s brother.”
“Emerson? Why?” She looked appalled.
“He’s Ethan’s family as much as I am. And Emerson has kids—Ethan’s first cousins.” Lauren had thought about all of this during the many hours she’d lain in bed at night grappling with everything.
Stephanie shook her head. “It’s too much. I can’t.”
“I’ve been going through all of my old boxes because of the move. Stuff I didn’t want to deal with four years ago. A lot of it’s Rory’s and I’ve found some family photos Emerson should have. I’m going to get in touch with him anyway, so I can tell him if you want me to.”
“Really? You would do that?”
She hadn’t thought about the offer before the words were out of her mouth, but as she spoke them, she knew they weren’t coming from a place of altruism; she wanted to say to Emerson, See? I told you I wasn’t the bad guy.