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TWENTY-FIVE

MICKEY

“I’m about to eat my weight in waffle cones. They smell divine.” Amos peered around the ice cream case at Scoops on Maple like he would find a stash of them to steal.

Sam shot me a he’s-adorable-and-you-know-it look before turning back to Amos. “There’s a waffle cone with as many scoops as you want on the house. It’s the least I can do for all the work you’re putting in for the Christmas Eve dinner. This is going to be great exposure for my new hot cocoas.”

I’d always loved how genuine Sam was. They were a great friend and fun to play darts and D&D with.

They’d seemed even happier the past several months since they’d begun dating Gabe and following their dream of opening the ice cream shop.

I really hoped the festival event would make a difference for them.

They’d done such a great job with the vibe of the shop. I loved the octopus mural with an ice cream cone on each arm. The place was bright and welcoming, with a few festive touches like a Santa hat pinned over the octopus’s head.

“Let me get the cocoa flight for you to sample. Holler at me if someone comes in,” Sam said.

“A flight?” I asked.

“Samples?” Amos asked eagerly.

“I thought having a flight would be a fun menu item, and I want you to pick whatever would work best with your menu.”

“That sounds great, Sam. Thanks.” Amos’s smile was genuine.

With a bounce in their step, Sam moved to their kitchen.

“Want to sit?” I suggested.

Amos nodded and followed me over to a table. I could hear Sam whistling in the back.

Amos leaned in. “How are you? Talk to your mom?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. I’m still pretty rocked by it.

It’s one hell of a secret to keep for decades.

” It was hard to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“I haven’t talked to Mom. She texted and told me to call when I was ready to talk, but I’m not there yet.

I don’t even know how I’m feeling about it.

Angry, I guess. Disappointed? Like part of my life has been a lie?

I don’t know how to sort through it all. ”

“I totally get that. Some moments, I want to press my mom for more information, and other moments, I don’t want to be around her because it’s stressing me out to keep the secret.”

All I could do was nod. “Do you think our dads know?”

He stared out the front window. “I haven’t asked mine. I’m afraid he will know, and then it will be another family thing I’m left out of.”

“Your mom said Sage doesn’t know, right?”

Amos turned his head and met my eyes. “Yeah, that’s true.” One side of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

“Do you think you’ll ask your dad?” I’d been stressing over that exact question for the past two days.

“I don’t know. I’m not comfortable telling him about our moms’ friendship, but a part of me wants to know if he’s aware of it.” Amos shrugged. “I guess it’s not my secret to share.”

“Even though it affects us.”

He sighed. “Yeah. What about you?”

“I haven’t asked, but it’s hard not to. I’ve nearly blurted it out a dozen times.

” Mom was a complicated topic between Dad and me.

They were cordial to each other, but he was still heartbroken that she’d left.

We’d never talked about it, but I figured he never really understood why she left after so many years.

To him, he probably thought that nothing had changed.

The diner had been a part of his life when they’d met, and it would be until he died.

Except that was the problem. She had her own dreams, and he hadn’t changed and adapted with her. He didn’t get it.

“Same with Sage. I tried to act casual while we cooked dinner last night, but I kept having to stop myself from saying anything about it.”

“Do our parents have any idea how much of a burden they’ve placed on us?” Anger laced my words. I wasn’t used to experiencing that emotion often, but lately, it felt like it remained bubbling under the surface.

Amos briefly squeezed my hand, then glanced around before pulling back. “You’re carrying much more than I am. Have you ever talked to a therapist?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been thinking about it though.

This might be the tipping point. I’m worried I’m getting resentful about things that might damage my relationship with my dad, and now my mom, but that’s not fair when I haven’t actually talked to them about anything.

I just don’t know how. We’ve never been a family built on open communication.

Love, absolutely, but not communication. ”

Amos seemed to choose his words before speaking. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re worth sorting this out, and so is your relationship with your parents. I know it’s not easy, but he needs to know the pressure he puts on you.”

It was so refreshing to have a man in my life I could have this conversation with. I hadn’t realized how desperately lacking that had been in my past relationships until Amos showed me how it could be.

I glanced toward the kitchen and spotted Sam peeking out. When they saw me looking, they sent me a goofy thumbs-up before disappearing into the back again. My friends wouldn’t stop matchmaking until a relationship stuck. This time, I appreciated it because I’d needed this conversation.

Amos followed where I was looking. “It’s taking them a while. Must be good cocoa.”

I laughed. “They take their work very seriously.”

The smile on Amos’s face fell. “Speaking of work…”

His dour tone sent off warning flares in my heart. This is it. Amos is leaving. Damn, I was going to miss him. Way more than I ever thought would be possible.

“An old coworker called me about a job opportunity back in Boston.”

“Yeah? A good job?” I did my best to smile and look supportive. Not that I wasn’t supportive, but it was hard to imagine life in Maplewood with a gaping Amos-shaped hole.

At least he looked as miserable as I felt.

“It’s with a startup. Good pay, interesting project.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” I grimaced. “Sorry. That came out more direct than I meant.”

“It was exactly as direct as you meant it.” He squeezed my leg under the table. “And the exact level of directness I need. I could use more people in my life who care enough about me to be honest.”

What had his life been like in Boston? Amos was a fucking treasure, and anyone who didn’t realize that was worse off for it.

“So, let’s be honest. Do you want this job?”

Amos blew out a sharp breath. “I want to know what comes next. I want to stop questioning my life choices and feeling like a failure. I want to feel like I know what the hell I’m doing with myself.” He dropped his face into his hands.

“I hope you get all those things, but I feel like I need to point out that you didn’t actually say you want the job.”

“I’m not excited about it. There are about a half-dozen red flags, but sometimes it’s about the devil you know, right?” Amos met my eyes, his blazing with unspoken emotion. “But I can’t help but wonder if there might be something for me here, even with how uncertain it is.”

The dread that had begun settling over me began to lift ever so slightly. “I’m sure Maplewood would be happy to accommodate you should you find something worth staying for.”

“Maplewood would, huh? That’s very kind of Maplewood. ” We shared a lingering smile. “Up for more secret dates?”

The hope in his voice made a lump form in my throat.

“Absolutely. I’ve got a rain check on a silent book club date to cash in.

Take it day-by-day, right?” Even as hope swelled in my chest, a tiny, annoying voice asked how long it would take before the charm of sneaking around wore off and left trouble in its wake.

We couldn’t build something lasting off a secret.

“Ready for some cocoa?” Sam lifted their eyebrows questioningly as they approached.

I nodded and smiled. “Born ready. Show us what you’ve got.”

Amos rubbed his hands together. “Let’s drink some warm sugar before I gorge on ice cream.”