Page 77 of The Lilac River

Bridie side-eyed Joseph. “Let’s just say if those boys of ours don’t send me over the edge finally, we’ll be fine.”

“Take after you, do they?” I asked Joseph with a grin.

He scoffed. “I was an angel compared to them. Lily said she caught Jimmy painting Jake’s hair yesterday.”

“It’s something new every day,” Bridie added.

“They’re just rambunctious. And there’s two of them,” Joseph said, slipping his arm around his wife. “If anyone can deal with them, it’s Lily. I remember how she kept you and your brothers in line.”

Bridie nudged him sharply, shooting him a warning look.

“It’s fine,” I lied. “Lily and I are... fine.”

“Really?”

“Joseph!”

"Honestly, Bridie, it’s okay." I chuckled. “Listen, I should get going. Don’t want to miss my slot.” I nodded toward the open classroom door.

“Yeah, night, Nash.”

“Sorry, Nash,” Joseph called as they disappeared down the hallway.

I exhaled heavily. It felt like I was prepping for battle or a first date I didn’t want.

"Come on, Nash," I muttered. "She’s just a woman. You can do this."

I pulled my shoulders back and strode toward Lily’s classroom.

When I got to the doorway, I stopped.

She was sitting behind her desk, scribbling something in a notebook, a lock of golden hair falling over one shoulder. She tapped the pen against her chin, the way she always did when she was deep in thought.

A flicker of memory hit; her in my truck, senior year, using a similar notebook, planning our road trip to Tuscaloosa after graduation. She’d marked everything in color-coded ink: routes, rest stops, gas stations. I hadn’t cared about the plans. I’d just loved listening to her talk about a future that included both of us.

“I hope that’s not Bertie you’re trying to write about,” I said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Her head jerked up, a small gasp escaping her parted lips. “Nash.”

I walked inside, pointing at her notebook. “Guessing you’re trying to sugarcoat something? I hope it’s not about my daughter.”

I smiled to make it clear I was joking and tapped my chin. “You always used to do that when you were trying to give bad news nicely.”

She looked down at her notes, then lifted her gaze back to mine, giving me a hesitant, beautiful smile. “I guess you know me too well.”

Her lashes fluttered down again, hiding something in her expression. Regret? Sadness?

We couldn’t keep on being hostile. It wasn’t serving either of us. And hell, after the other night, after seeing her with Bertie, I wasn’t sure I wanted the war anymore.

“I guess I do.” I cleared my throat. “Anyways, is it okay to come in, or am I early?”

“No, no, come on in.” She gestured to the chair in front of her desk, smoothing the front of her white sweater.

Relieved to see it wasn’t a tiny kid’s chair, I sat down. "Thanks for not making me sit in one of those tiny ass chairs."

She smiled, a little shyly. “I heard about your knee...”

"Did you make everyone else sit in one?" I teased.