20. Summer

20

SUMMER

I 'm nervous. How can I not be?

Always, I knew and wanted that Zac's family would be involved in Bo's life. There was no question about that. It's just, I wasn't anticipating their other son being the one who is part of my life in a different way. The way that I'm not sure his parents would appreciate.

Waking up, I came to the realization that I'm foolish to think Nash and I can hide.

So here I am in the Nix residence kitchen on Thanksgiving Day.

"It looks delicious," I say to Gail as she cuts up the corn bread and places perfect little squares into a basket lined with a cloth napkin.

"Thank you. Always one of my favorites to bake." Her smile is wonderful to see. I'm sure this can't be easy for her, a holiday without Zac. I also feared it. That was until Nash made life a little less broken. Gail stares off into the living room. "I'm going to miss this house. So many memories." Her sight drops back to the basket. "But I can't handle another Illinois winter at my age, plus we have so many friends at the golf club in North Carolina. It makes sense. I just expect you to visit." She gives me a pointed look.

I toss the salad with a lack of effort. "Of course, we will."

"You and Bo will love it."

Right. We as in Bo and me.

We both glance to our side when we hear Bo laughing, Nash raising him up in the air as he enters the living room.

"He sure is good with him." Gail seems pleased by that. "Wasn't expecting it, to be honest. I'm happy Zac made this request. Also, that Nash seems to be staying longer. Handling his responsibilities and stepping up."

Her words draw an unexpected bewilderment from me. "You mean with Bo." My statement comes out weak, because really, I'm prying into where her mind is at.

"Sure, dear." She folds the napkin over the bread.

"I should probably go check on Bo," I mention. Mostly because I need to adjust to her comment, wondering what thoughts are brewing in her head.

Circling around the kitchen island, I mosey on over to Nash and begin to coo with Bo as I snatch his foot. "There's my little turkey. Ready for your first Thanksgiving?"

"He is. I already had him check the football schedule for today and hockey schedule for tomorrow," Nash explains as he props Bo on his hip.

Lowering my voice, I have to ask. "How is it going with your dad?"

Nash sighs. "Not so bad. We make small talk over sports."

"Good. Your mom seems fine, so perhaps dinner will go by like a breeze."

He laughs under his breath. "Miracles do happen on holidays."

The next few minutes, I leave Nash to watch Bo, and I return to the kitchen to help. Sliding a casserole dish out of the oven, I inhale a whiff of sweet potatoes with marshmallow now melted on top. "Yum. Sweet goodness on a source of a healthy superfood."

"Alright, dear, I think we are ready to head to the table. Oh…" She snaps her fingers into the air. "Forgot to grab the highchair from the garage."

"No worries. Nash already set it up."

Gail does it again, she stalls for a millisecond before continuing her task. I don't think about it, as I have oven gloves on and am desperate to get this dish to the dining table. We both scurry back and forth, ensuring our dinner is complete.

Sitting with Nash on one side and Bo on the other, I'm not sure that I feel protected.

"Let me just get Bo sorted before we start dinner," I note to everyone at the table. Nash's dad is swirling scotch in his glass, and his mom is pouring wine and doesn't seem to mind the slight delay.

"Okay, so are we trying the green bean casserole or already giving up that Bo won't eat it?" Nash's eyes scan the array of food options, and he begins to add a few items onto Bo's plate. "We can try a little bit of the sweet potato casserole, right? Marshmallow won't kill him." He glances quickly to my side. "For sure, we're going to mush some stuffing and mashed potato."

"Yeah, exactly."

But then I see our audience sitting across the table.

"You two really have a tempo with one another," Gail says somberly, but there is a twinkle in her eye that's maybe hopeful.

I side-eye Nash and see that he's sinking into the magnitude of the next few hours. The heavy feeling that doesn't seem as though it will fade.

A secret floating around us.

"Uh, a toast before dinner, or will we just dive on in and eat this turkey big enough for twenty people?" Nash's fingers skim the wine glass in front of him.

"A toast sounds like a very good place to start." My father-in-law, Walter, holds up his glass. Following suit, I hold my glass up. "To family. For those we miss and those that are here." His voice trembles, and everyone bows their heads, probably trying to hide the crack in our hearts. "He would have wanted us to enjoy this day. For Zac."

It's a long few seconds that break when our shining light saves us; my son decided that now is the right moment to throw a little sweet potato, which causes all of our faces to soften. "He seems in agreement. Cheers," my father adds.

We all take a sip, and when dishes begin to be passed around, I'm grateful that an overload of calories will keep conversation neutral.

"You know, I think the Spinners and Pittsburg will have a good match tomorrow on the ice," Walter begins.

"Really? Maybe. The Spinners' new coach is more promising than last season, I guess." It's nice seeing Nash and his dad interact in this way.

"You must really miss it," his mother adds as she sets the bowl of salad down.

Now I have to laugh. "You know, a few people in Lake Spark have been trying to convince Nash here to become coach at Lake Spark Academy."

Everyone chuckles at that thought, except his mom who is grinning ear to ear. "That would be wonderful. You would be here permanently. Could really help with Bo. "

Nash's laugh dies down. "Nah, I'll be sticking around anyway for Summer and Bo."

His innocent sentence is the match to the powder keg. I feel it in my bones because Gail and Walter give one another a look, clear as day that they've been discussing my current living situation.

Walter sets his napkin down with the air now needing a chisel to free us from this ice. "It's time for honesty."

My fear has become a reality, and I close my eyes shut tight before opening them with a tear in the corner of my eyes. Even Nash squeezing my hand under the table has no effect on my feeling of falling off a cliff, wondering if the parachute might work.

"You two are together, aren't you? Not just for Bo, either." His father's serious look confirms what should have been obvious from moment one. Gail and Walter already knew this scenario was coming.

"Yes," Nash doesn't hesitate.

Immediately, I attempt to defuse their thought. "I-i-it's not what you…" I stagger.

"Think." His father finishes my sentence.

"We happened, and I'm staying in Lake Spark." Nash is firm and far too calm for me.

Walter abruptly stands, his chair screeching, and he towers over the table as he points his finger between Nash and me. "This is completely disrespectful. I'm disappointed in both of you. Not even time to mourn and already you're both sharing a bed."

"Walter! That's enough." Gail grabs his arm.

"What the fuck did you think would happen when Zac set me up on this request?" Nash now joins everyone in this little face-off that makes me feel like a horrible person.

"I'm not trying to disrespect a memory, I promise." My murmur to myself isn't so quiet, as everyone whips their gaze to me.

The air thickening graces us with only a moment of quiet. "Don't put this on her. Put it on me."

"Oh, I will, Nash. You're acting selfish, reckless, and most of all, basically erasing your brother." Walter is livid.

"Stop it," his mother implores. "Maybe this is a good thing. He's Bo's uncle, and I would much rather Nash step in than perhaps some other guy with no family connection. Nash won't take Bo away from us."

My rage has been unlocked, too. Standing up, my hands are clenched into fists. "I would never take him away from you. Bo's your grandson. And I'm here, you don't need to talk about me. Nor do I need someone to sweep in and help me."

"No. You just needed someone to warm your bed." His father's menacing tone causes my jaw to drop.

Gail gasps, and Nash slams his hands onto the table. "Fuck that. You know that's not true."

"We're all grieving. Maybe this is their way, Walter," Gail attempts to justify, and now it becomes clear. She wants this. Everything to stay in the family, as if it's a path of honor. In some twisted tradition, she believes Nash should be the one in my life.

Walter shakes his arm away from Gail. "Are you blind, Gail? Nash has probably been waiting, and he didn't waste any time."

"It was Zac's request!" Gail responds.

"Because Summer causes our sons to think irrationally, always has."

Nash snickers, not impressed with his dad's choice of words. "You're fucking out of line."

"You watch that tone, young man," he snipes .

"Really? Because basically calling your son's widow and the mother of your grandson a Jezebel is keeping it respectful?" He's flippant.

I've had enough, and my arms come out as though I need to be a referee. "Stop it! If you want me to feel guilty then congratulations, you have." My tears spill down my cheek, and I turn to unbuckle Bo from the seat as he fusses.

"You don't need to feel guilty," Nash reminds me.

"No?" I bring Bo to rest on my hip. "I just need to be judged, because apparently, I can't see what is so obvious. Clearly, I'm being careless with the situation."

Nash steps forward and touches my shoulder to ensure our eyes meet. "You're not doing that, either. You and I are right where we're meant to be, I promise. Love after loss, right? We just happened to find one another again."

My heart is in his hand, but the audience is throwing stones.

"Again?" his father squeaks out before grabbing his scotch glass. "Why am I not surprised. I don't even want to know the timeline of that in relation to my dead son."

Nash directs his fuming gaze to his father. "Not the timeline you think. So just please stop." His mom is shaking her head, his father emotionless gulping another sip, and I'm staring helplessly when Nash finds my eyes to keep me in a stronghold. "Don't let them bother you."

"I need to process this shitshow of a dinner," I admit.

"Don't go. We haven't even gotten a photo of Bo eating turkey." Gail seems frantic, in denial, and somehow thinks this dinner can be sewn back together.

We all look at her. "Trust me. You don't want a photo right now. So that's not happening." Nash's monotone voice brings disappointment to his mother's face. But his embrace on my eyes returns. "Don't run alone. Not when we can do it together."

Gently I shake my head. "Every dart I feared they would throw, they just did. Let Bo and me go, we'll talk later."

To my surprise, but then again Nash has always been brave, he steps forward to kiss my forehead. "We'll be okay. One day at a time."

My shoulders sink low, my body defeated, as I leave them all be, feeling as though I've destroyed their family the moment I entered their lives.