“I’m Morgan and this is Etta,” I replied, bouncing Etta a little on my lap. “She’s deciding to play shy at the moment.”
“I don’t blame you,” Sage said conspiratorially to Etta. “It keeps those annoying boys away.”
“Boys away,” Etta agreed, leaning toward Sage just a little.
“We’ve got some toys in the other room, though,” Sage said, shrugging one shoulder. “If you want to play.”
“Me play,” Etta replied, sitting up completely.
“Is that okay?” Sage asked me.
“It’s just on the other side of that wall,” Trevor said, tipping his chin toward the toy room.
“It’s okay with me,” I replied, letting Etta climb off my lap.
She followed Sage out of the room without a single glance backward.
“Kids are weird,” Kate said with a laugh. “How is it that easy to make friends?”
“I have no idea,” I said, shaking my head.
Conversation started up again, and before long I was a part of it. The Harris and Evans families were easy to be around, just like I remembered from when I was a kid. It was a relief to know that I’d been nervous for no reason.
I was feeling pretty good about the whole situation a half hour later as I used the bathroom and washed my hands. Etta was having a good time, Trevor’s family was super welcoming, and I hadn’t felt out of place since the initial few minutes inside the house. So I kind of felt like I’d been hit with a two-by-four when I came out of the bathroom and overheard the conversation happening between Trevor and his parents. They must have arrived right after I’d gone to the bathroom.
“You know you’re always welcome,” Mike said. “Everyone just got a little worked up—”
“I wasn’t worked up,” Trevor replied flatly. “And Mom was pretty clear.”
“I was just frustrated,” Ellie said. “I don’t know how you can talk about your brother like that.”
“Like what? Like he was human? Like he was a deadbeat who left his daughter and didn’t look back?”
“Trevor,” Mike said in warning.
“I loved him as much as you did, but I’m not going to pretend he was a saint.”
“No one’s asking you to, son.”
“All of this over that woman?” Ellie asked, making my throat tighten. “What has gotten into you?”
“Are we just going to pretend that none of us were pissed at Henry when we found out what he’d done?” Trevor asked tiredly.
“Is that how you’re excusing it?” Ellie asked, her voice softening. “Because you’re mad at him?”
“Jesus Christ, Mom,” Trevor said in disgust. They still hadn’t noticed me at the end of the hallway. “I’m in love with Morgan. Saying that has anything to do with Henry is like saying that the Giants are going to win the Super Bowl because Bram decided to wear an orange shirt yesterday.”
“I think—”
“No,” Trevor cut her off. Ellie’s back was to me, so I couldn’t see her expression, but I’d never forget the look on Trevor’s face as he met her straight on. “This ends now.” He glanced at his dad, who was surprisingly silent. “I’m in love with Morgan. She’s funny and kind and stubborn as all hell, and at some point I want to have a family with her. You can be pissed about it if you want, but I’m telling you right now”—he paused, taking a deep breath—“you won’t win this. All you’re doing is ensuring the fact that I won’t let you anywhere near her or Etta. Henry did enough—this family isn’t going to pile any more bullshit on top of her.”
I must have made some noise, because as soon as Trevor had finished speaking his eyes rose to meet mine and he lifted his hand in my direction. “You ready to go, baby?” he asked. “Think we’ll come back for dinner another time.”
He came toward me and wrapped his long fingers around mine, then walked me past his parents, making sure that he was a solid barrier between us. If he’d asked, I would have told him he didn’t need to do that. I wasn’t afraid of them.
Sometime between him telling them that he loved me and his refusal to listen to a word they said, I seemed to have grown this weird barrier that made it feel like nothing could touch me. I calmly grabbed Etta’s bag and shoved my feet into my shoes as Trevor grabbed the baby, and in less than two minutes we were out the front door and walking toward the truck. We climbed in without a word, and instead of driving toward home, Trevor headed to town.
It wasn’t until he’d ordered us burgers and french fries from a small drive-up diner that I finally found my voice.
“I love you,” I said, just as he’d taken a large bite of his hamburger. “I know it’s probably a really shitty time to tell you that, after all that stuff that happened with your parents, but—”