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 Leon
ard 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.”