She laughed, tension breaking. Truth. Clara sat on the couch, tucking her feet under her. What about you? You like your job?
Sometimes. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement. It pays well. It's stable. My son's college fund is set.
All true statements that revealed nothing. But do you like it? Ethan thought about his answer carefully. I like building things. I like solving problems.
I like seeing projects go from concept to completion. The rest of it, the meetings, the politics, the endless bureaucracy, I could do without. So quit. And do what? I don't know.
Build furniture full-time. You're clearly good at it. Furniture building doesn't pay for health insurance. Fair point. Clara pulled the pencil out of her hair and twirled it between her fingers.
Do you ever think about it, though? Just walking away from the stable thing and doing what you actually want? Every single day, Ethan thought, but didn't say. Sometimes. What stops you?
Responsibility. Jake. The fact that wanting something doesn't mean it's smart to chase it. That's depressing. That's being an adult.
I hate being an adult, Clara muttered. It's the worst. Agreed. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Ethan could hear someone's TV through the thin walls, a dog barking somewhere outside, the building settling around them with creaks and groans.
Clara's phone buzzed. She checked it and groaned. The real estate client just sent feedback. They want to see something with more energy. What does that even mean?
Absolutely nothing. It means they don't know what they want, but they know they don't want this. She tossed her phone on the couch. I'll deal with it tomorrow. You sure?
If I look at it now, I'll just get pissed off and send an email I'll regret. Better to wait until I can be professional about it. Ethan respected that level of self-awareness. Clara's phone buzzed again. This time when she read the message, her whole body went rigid.
What's wrong? Ethan asked. Nothing. It's nothing. Clara.
She looked up and her eyes were shiny. My sister, she's in town. Wants to see Lily. Isn't that good? You'd think so, wouldn't you?
Clara's voice went hard. Except she's been gone for 6 months without a word. No calls, no texts, no child support, and now she just shows up and expects everything to be fine. What are you going to do? I don't know.
I should let her see Lily, right? She's still her mom. But every time she does this, shows up, makes promises, disappears again, it destroys Lily for weeks. Does Lily ask about her? Used to.
Not so much anymore. Clara wiped her eyes roughly. She's 7 years old and she's already learning that her mom isn't reliable. What kind of lesson is that? Ethan didn't have an answer.
The only thing worse than no answer was a [ __ ] platitude, so he kept quiet. Sorry, Clara said after a moment. This isn't your problem. You don't have to apologize. I'm dumping my family drama on you during our second date.
That's exactly the kind of thing you're supposed to avoid. Who made that rule? I don't know. Society? Society also says you're supposed to get married, buy a house in the suburbs, and pretend to like golf.
I'm not big on following rules. That got a small smile. You don't like golf? I hate golf. It's the most boring sport ever invented.
What do you like? Baseball, hockey, anything where people actually move. Lilly loves baseball, Clara said. She went to a game last summer with her class and came home signing about it for hours. I didn't understand half of what she was saying, but she was so excited.
Jake plays Little League, Ethan offered. Maybe they could go to a game together sometime. Clara looked at him like he'd suggested something radical. You'd want that? Lilly meeting your son?
Why not? Because that's That's a big step. That's family integration territory. Is it? Ethan, we've been on two dates.
Three if you count tonight. Fine, three dates. That's not usually when you start introducing kids. What's the usual timeline? Clara opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again.
I don't actually know. I haven't dated since Lilly came to live with me. So, we're both making this up as we go. That's one way to put it. Look, Ethan said, leaning forward.
I'm not trying to rush anything, but I like you. I like Lilly. If Jake meeting her feels too fast, we'll wait. But don't say no because you think there's some rule about it. Clara was quiet for a long moment, studying his face.
You're serious. Yeah. About all of this? About us? Yeah.
Why? It was a fair question. Ethan tried to find words that didn't sound completely insane. Because you're the first person in 3 years who's looked at me like I'm just a person, not a paycheck, not a status symbol, not a stepping stone to something better, just me. I don't even know what you do, Clara pointed out.
For all I know, you could be a janitor. Would that matter? No. She said it immediately without hesitation. I don't care what you do for work. I care that you show up when you say you will, that you built my niece a bookshelf because she asked, that you do dishes without being asked, and you don't make me feel like [ __ ] for living in a crappy apartment.