"You made a thousand dollars in one night? Like, an actual grand?"
"Yeah." She laughed. "It was surreal taking the subway back to my little apartment with that much cash in my pocket."
"I bet. Did you leave friends behind?"
"Yeah." Sadness tugged at the corners of her mouth just before she looked away. "My best friend, Avery, I met through Miles. We were inseparable. But then this happened," she said, pointing to her stomach. "I can't tell her without the fear of the news making its way to Miles. So Miles got New York and Avery, and I got a heap of big decisions to make. I talked to her once on the phone to say goodbye and cut ties right before I hopped on the plane. The Landing has to be a brand new beginning. Dwelling in the past will get me hurt even worse."
He shook his head slowly and fingered the napkin he'd been shredding. How hard it must have been to leave the life she'd spent years building to start over with nothing in a place that hadn't been kind to her. The more he learned about her, the more questions he had. He wanted to know everything. The reason for each smile, every story from the last time he'd seen her at high school graduation until now, every hurt and triumph she'd endured in her childhood-everything.
Her work ethic around the homestead and at her job already proved she was a strong woman, but hearing a taste of what her life had really been like made him think she was made of steel. She wasn't a sniveling person who complained about the unfairness of the world or dwelled on her mistakes. She took responsibility for her decisions and reinvented her life when she couldn't salvage the old one. He'd never met anyone like her.
The food arrived, and he leaned back as the waiter set a plate of grilled halibut and clam chowder in front of him.
Farrah leaned forward staring at his chowder as she forked seafood fettuccini onto a smaller plate for Dodge. "That looks good."
He pushed the bowl of soup toward her with "Eat as much as you want," and then cut a piece of the halibut and set it on the side of her plate.
Without a word, she spooned creamy noodles and shrimp onto his, then began to eat the food they were sharing in comfortable silence.
God, he could watch her the rest of the night. She cut up the noodles for Dodge in between bites, and even though it was his place to do it, she never looked at him as if she was annoyed or put out. She just saw a need and filled it.
Dodge chattered happily on, urging smiles and laughter from Farrah. The boy was well on his way to earning griddle cakes again in the morning.
Determined to draw out the night, Aanon asked, "Do you want to order desert?"
His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket, still on silent from the movie theater, but he ignored it. Work came a really distant second to the beaming look in Farrah's eyes right now.
"They're kind of expensive."
His phone vibrated again. "It's the last time we'll be doing anything like this before the snow hits us like a brick. Better enjoy it now." At her hesitant nod, he said, "We can all share one if it really bothers you."
"Okay."
She had said it so quietly, he almost missed it. But maybe that was because of the incessant buzzing in his pocket. Geez, his boss must be hard up for laborers if he was calling him twice in a row.
"What sounds good to you?" she asked, eying the dessert menu.
Apologizing, he yanked the phone from his pocket. His heart sank to his toes as he read Erin's name across the caller ID. He'd seen one of her friends, Carrie, sitting at the café earlier, but he could've sworn she hadn't seen them before they'd ducked into the movie theater. Of course, Erin had spies. The temptation to ignore the call was so great it stopped ringing before he answered. Today had been perfect, better than perfect, and Erin's phone calls brought nothing but destruction.
It vibrated again against the palm of his hands.
"Do you need to answer that?" Farrah said, worry streaking through the forest green of her eyes.
"Yeah," he said in a strangled-sounding voice. "I'm not picky on deserts. Order whatever you and Dodge want, and I'll be right back. I have to take this." Snatching his jacket from the back of the chair, he accepted the call and blasted through the front door of Captain Pattie's.
"Dodge is fine," he said.
Sobbing filled the other line.
Shit. This was going to suck.
Lowering the tailgate of his old Chevy, he sat with a perfect view of Farrah and Dodge through the restaurant window. Balls, it was cold, and he pulled his jacket on as best he could without dropping the phone in the mud.
He counted fifteen steamy breaths into the autumn air before Erin calmed enough to speak coherently. "You're with h-her, aren't you?"
"Yes. She needed to come into town for some shopping, and she doesn't have a car."
"I told you I don't want you spending time with her," she wailed. Classic Erin.
"Erin," he said, lowering his voice and praying for patience. "If Farrah bothers you so much, why did you drop our son off with her? You just dumped your kid onto a stranger, and then you can't handle it when he spends time with her? That doesn't make any sense."
"I t-told you I'm not ready for you to move on yet. I love you, Aanon. You made this decision, not me. We were supposed to be married. A family, living in Anchorage in the house we found, and now my life is ruined. I'm stuck living in Homer now. Homer! This is never, ever where I saw my life going. I'm a single mom, and now the insensitive prick who left me is judging my parenting?"
Aanon pressed thumb and forefinger to his nose in an attempt to relieve the headache building behind his eyes. "I didn't leave you. My dad died, and I took over the homestead I inherited. I wanted you and Dodge there with me. I understand it's hard to watch me move on, but you have to understand, I've been watching you move on since the week after you left. You can't date other people and forbid me to get on with my life at the same time."
The beat of silence was so foreboding. "That's exactly what I can do, Aanon." She spat his name like a curse. "You don't move on until I am good and ready for you to, or you don't see your son. We've gone over this ten times. I swear you're so fucking stupid. Am I really having this discussion with you again? I will not have my son around whatever red-necked rebound whore you decide to stick your dick in. I won't!"
"But he can be around the men you date? And Farrah's not a whore. Call me names all you want to, Erin. Farrah's done nothing wrong."
"She's knocked up, you idiot. And I talked to her mother. The poor sap she trapped is unaware, sitting in New York probably pining away for his mistress."
Dread choked him, rendering him mute as he watched Farrah load up a spoon of pie for Dodge. "How? How did you know she was anyone's mistress?"
"Because I talked to Miles Anderson. And if you don't play your cards right, Aanon Daniel Falk, I'm going to fuck up both of your lives beyond recognition. I'll tell him. I'll even pay for his plane ticket out here and you-you'll never see Dodge again."
"You can't do that," he said in a ragged whisper.
"Can and will. Put your dick away and think about your family. Don't give me a reason to talk to Miles again because I will spill the dirty little secret you two are sharing, and you'll spend the rest of your days miserable and alone in that wilderness hellhole you call home. You pushed me into this." She sniffed. "I'm coming home from my weekend trip early. Have Dodge ready by ten tomorrow morning."
"You don't have to do that. I just got him, and he's having fun. He's happy. Just give me the full weekend with him, please. Erin, please."
"Sorry Aanon. I can't trust you not to expose him to bad influences."
She didn't care. Not at all. If she cared about Dodge like a mother should, she'd never use him as a pawn or keep him from his father. His gut clenched, and he leaned forward to relieve the ache. It made him sick to play these games. Just sick. He always lost. Dodge always lost. He dragged his eyes to Farrah, who laughed easily as his son made goofy faces. Farrah would lose in the wake of Erin's destruction. In the wake of his.
"All right," he said on an exhale.
"Can't hear you," Erin said in a voice as cold as winter.
"All right," he said, louder. "I'll have him ready to go in the morning, and I'll stay away from Farrah. You have my word."
Her voice dripped with smug satisfaction when she said, "Good."