She gave him a warm smile. “You’re not telling me anything I haven’t said a few times myself. That said, I think he’s housebroken now.”
Liam snorted “Housebroken? Try neutered.”
“Wait a minute,” Sawyer protested. “I am absolutely, entirely intact.”
Estelle rolled her eyes as she walked past with a plate of deviled eggs. “This is such appropriate dinner talk.”
“Try living with him,” Kelsie shot back. She got up to help Estelle, muttering over her shoulder, “Talk about ruining an appetite.”
Sawyer smirked and called after her, “Are we talking about your cooking now? Because when it comes to me, you can’t seem to get enough.”
Crosby snorted. “Probably because she’s never satisfied.”
“I could have lived out my days without hearing any of this,” Ethan heard his mother say from across the room.
Ethan could have, too, but he was grateful the conversation had moved on from his situation with Rue, so he kept his mouth shut. But he experienced an unexpected tug. Until Crosby met Estelle, Ethan had been the only one of the brothers to ever have a serious relationship. After losing Amy, he hadn’t considered himself out of one—not enough to make him feel as if he’d missed out on anything. He knew love. He didn’t have to wonder if, or when, he’d ever experience it. Or what it was like to love someone so much that she became a part of your being. He thought, even though he’d lost Amy, that he’d been the lucky one. Lucky because he’d known her. Lucky because they’d had everything.
Now, watching Kelsie and Estelle laughing with his brothers, he just felt empty. But what really killed him was the absolute joy radiating from his mother. He realized now that he’d gotten so used to the worry etched on her face that he’d stopped noticing it, and he felt terrible taking that hope away from her. For being the reason she’d worried for so long.
Thoughtful, he stepped away from the group. Halfway down the hallway to the rear of his parents’ house, a photo of him and Amy hung. He paused there.
“I don’t reckon Boyd Von Adler is going to be thrilled with you. Your mom says he’s had his sights on Rue Campbell for a long time.” Russell spoke quietly.
Ethan hadn’t realized his father had followed him. “I can’t say I care,” he said, his gaze still on the picture. He and Amy had raked his mom’s yard that day, most of the effort undone when things had spiraled into a leaf fight. In the photo, she was laughing and tangled in his arms. Alive. “I’ve never met the guy,” he said of Boyd Von What’s-his-face, “but from what I’ve heard, he’ll be hard-pressed to earn my respect.”
After a long pause, his father said, “Your mother is just so relieved. We all are.”
“Rue and I are just friends.” Were they even that? Granted, she’d seen him in his underwear, but Sawyer had lived entire years where getting to that step didn’t require an exchange of first names. But no more. Sawyer had fallen hard.
Still, none of them had hit bottom like Ethan.
His dad clasped his shoulder. “You have to start somewhere. The point is, you’ve taken that first step.”
Ethan didn’t say much during dinner, and fortunately, he didn’t have to. The conversation went on just fine without him. That had been the case for years, he realized, and while they hadn’t exactly tiptoed around him, his silence wasn’t enough to raise eyebrows.
Leaving early, however, apparently was. When he excused himself before dessert, he didn’t miss the warning glance from his mother that kept the rest of the group in check. How long had they tiptoed around him? He pushed away the thought. “Save me a piece of pie, okay?”
“Hot date?” Liam asked.
So much for silence. “I need to catch up with someone before it gets too late.”
Crosby blinked. “It’s four o’clock.”
“Never mind that,” his mom said. “The pie will be waiting for you in the office fridge in the morning.”
Ethan nodded his thanks then slipped out, knowing full well his name would probably occupy their conversation even after everyone split and went their own ways. It had likely been that way for a while, and that possibility made him feel so very alone.