Page 133 of The Homemaker

Go ahead and dream big.

You just never know what might happen.

Two Months Later …

I makean offer on the house in Edina, the one across the street from Cameron’s, but a couple expecting their first child outbids me. I’m crushed.

The only upside is Hunter securing me a boring but well-paying job with his friend who lives in a penthouse in downtown Minneapolis. It doesn’t include free residence, but that’s okay. For now, I’ve found an apartment in Edina, sostalkingseeing my son is easy and convenient.

I don’t have Murphy’s phone number, a nice dose of Karma, and I haven’t figured out a way to get it from Hunter or Vera without it being a red flag. What would I sayanyway? Choose me? It’s a little too late for that. He chose neither Blair nor me, and I don’t blame him.

Still, I miss him.

Today is the start of fall soccer season. I have no idea what field Cameron is playing on, reminiscent of the day I met Callen. Ugh, Callen … he could be here too. A grin steals my face when I see Cameron’s parents and his two younger sisters setting up their chairs near Field C. As the boys run in all directions doing their warm-up drills, I scan the cluster of blue jerseys for the dark-haired boy with freckles. Warmth spreads through my chest when I see him kick the ball toward the goal then run to the back of the line. The coach playfully ruffles Cameron’s hair, drawing a grin from him.

I set up my folding chair well behind the lineup of parents. And just as I sit down, Cameron’s dad stands to chat with the new coach. The two men laugh at something, then the coach removes his baseball hat to scratch the back of his head.

What the fuck?

It’s Murphy.He’sthe new coach? I grip the arms of my chair, anger building deep in my belly. How could he? I was very clear about not interrupting Cameron’s life. What has he done? What has he said? I push out of my chair, feeling the anger climb up my neck and settle into my cheeks. That’s when Murphy’s attention drifts past the sidelines and lands on me.

He grins so big that a few of the moms, including Cameron’s, glance behind them to see what’s caught his attention.

I want to die, but not before I kill him.

He waves me over. “Come meet the parents, honey!”

Come meet the parents? Honey?

What has he done? My stomach twists as I shuffle my feet on wobbly legs closer to the field.

“This is my wife, Alice,” he says.

My eyes widen, body stiffens.Wife? WIFE!?

“When did you get back from Paris?” Cameron’s mom asks me, tightening her short, blond ponytail.

This is the fourth wall that’s never supposed to be broken. I’m so scared, yet my heart feels something new and unexpected as this pleasant woman who’s been raising my child smiles at me, asking about a trip to Paris I know nothing about.

“Late last night,” Murphy answers for me when the pause gets too awkward. He takes my hand and pulls me into his body. After he turns his cap backwards, he whispers, “Hi” and gives me a soft kiss.

I don’t kiss him back because I can’t move or speak, let alone kiss my …. husband?

“Bring your chair closer,” Cameron’s mom says. “We’ll scoot over to make room for one more.”

“I have to get back to the boys,” Murphy says. “Enjoy the game.” He winks and rights his hat before sauntering to the middle of the field.

“I’m Rose and this is my husband, Jonathan. Babe, grab Alice’s chair for her.”

“Oh, I can get—” Before I can get my brain and mouth to fully cooperate, Jonathan is halfway to my deserted chair.

“These are our two girls, Casey and Aurora.”

The two blond girls don’t give me a single glance. They’re too busy sorting their M&Ms by color on their laps.

“Thank you,” I find two more words to offer when Cameron’s dad sets my chair next to Rose.

“Our son is the next one in line to kick the ball. The one with the shaggy brown hair. He needs a haircut,” Rose laughs. “His name is Cameron.”