were coming home, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”
“We weren’t deliberately trying to hide anything from you,” Leonard added.
Ean’s temper snapped. “This is a private conversation between my mother and me. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking.”
Leonard’s eyebrows rose. “But this—”
Doreen put her hand on Leonard’s shoulder again. “It’s all right, Leo. I’ll call you later.”
Ean held Leonard’s gaze, willing his former coach to leave. He couldn’t stand to see or hear the other man right now.
“All right.” Leonard kissed Doreen’s hand before circling the sofa.
Ean flinched.
As he crossed to the front door, the high school coach inclined his head toward Ean. Ean didn’t respond. He pulled the door open for the older man and waited for Leonard to walk through.
Ean locked the front door again before facing his mother. “What was he doing here so early?”
“He didn’t spend the night, if that’s what you’re asking.” Doreen went to the kitchen. “He usually stops by on his way to school.”
Why didn’t you look at me when you answered?
Ean followed his mother. “So if I’d stayed in New York, I still wouldn’t know about you and Coach George?”
“Have you told me about every woman you’ve dated?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I’m not a grieving widow.”
Doreen poured a cup of coffee. “Don’t judge me, Ean. I’m your mother, not some witness on the stand.”
“I’m not judging you.” He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and two fingers. “I’m trying to understand why you kept your relationship with Coach George a secret from me.”
“I didn’t want to have this conversation.” She leaned back against the kitchen counter with her coffee mug in hand. “I didn’t want you to make me feel guilty about my feelings. I didn’t want you to see me differently.”
“But you are different, Mom.” Ean started to feel chilled in his damp jogging clothes. Or maybe it was from the awareness that his mother had changed. “I came home because I didn’t want you to be lonely and sad with Dad gone. Obviously, I was worried for nothing.”
Ean spun on his heels. He left the kitchen to shower and change, but the question kept playing in his mind. What other secrets were left for him to discover in this town?
Ean wasn’t the only one awake in his mother’s house at six o’clock the next morning. He followed the light from the foot of the stairway to the kitchen and discovered his mother sitting at the table. She was drinking coffee and reading the daily newspaper, The Trinity Falls Monitor.
Doreen’s still-dark hair swung in thick waves above her shoulders. She was dressed in a lightweight pinkish sweater and dark blue jeans. When had his mother started wearing jeans?
They’d settled into a brittle truce yesterday after their argument about Leonard George. He wasn’t happy his mother had a boyfriend—he wouldn’t explain why—but he was hoping they could put the unpleasantness behind them and start over today.
Ean halted in the doorway. “Why are you up so early?”
Doreen’s smile seemed forced. Her warm brown eyes were wary. “I have to get to work.”
Ean froze. “You have a job? Since when?”
She lowered the Monitor. “I told you I worked in a bakery. It’s been almost six months now.”
Ean rested a shoulder against the doorjamb. “I thought all you did was bake.”
“It’s a bit more than that.”
“How much more?”
She glanced at him, then looked away. “I run that section of the business.”
Ean processed that information. His mother had a boyfriend and a job. What other secrets would he have to pry from her?
He rubbed the nape of his neck. “I thought you only spent a couple of hours a week there. Why didn’t you tell me it was a full-time job?”
Doreen folded the newspaper. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I don’t need the money. But this job is fun. And it gets me out of the house.”
“It’s a big deal to me, Mom.” Just as his father’s illness had been a big deal to him. But his mother hadn’t told him about that, either. Not until it was too late. Ean shut off those thoughts. “Tell me about your job. Where’s the bakery? What do you do?”
Her face glowed with pride and pleasure. “Megan added a bakery and meal counter to Head in the Clouds Books. She changed the name to Books and Bakery about six months ago.”
Ean frowned. “Megan? You mean little Meggie McCloud?”
Doreen sobered. “Don’t call her that. She doesn’t like that nickname.”
“Ramona called her that all the time.”
Doreen’s expression didn’t change. “Her name’s Megan.”
“OK.” Ean shrugged. “How did you get the job there?”
Doreen’s features brightened again. “Megan asked me to run the bakery. She said I could make a lot of money selling my cookies and brownies.”
Ean patted his stomach. “She’s right.”
“Well, as I said, I don’t need the money. But I’m having a lot of fun.” She stood and carried her coffee cup to the dishwasher. “I’m socializing again. And I’ve been experimenting with recipes.”
“I wish you’d told me the truth about your job, Mom.”
Doreen crossed to him. She cupped the right side of his face with her palm and kissed his left cheek. “You know now.” She stepped back. “I’ll be home by four o’clock.”
“That late?” Ean struggled with disappointment. “I just got home. I’d hoped we could spend at least today together.”
“We can spend the evening together.” Doreen walked past him and continued out of the kitchen. She stopped to collect her purple purse from the dining room’s corner table. “And I take Sundays and Mondays off. We’ll have more time together then.”
“What should I do until you get home?” Ean trailed his mother to the coat closet. He sounded five years old.
“Finish unpacking. Get settled in. Look up your friends. You’ll think of something.”
Ean
