Page 18 of This Broken Heart
I chance a look and read surprise on Josh’s features. “Yeah. I guess. If you want to.”
Maven turns, demanding to be set down. Josh relents and she scampers over, using her chubby fingers to push vegetables together. “I help.”
Josh hesitates. “If you’re okay watching her, I guess I’ll head back out?”
“That’s fine.” Get out of here, you grumpy bastard. I peer up at him, feelings of guilt catching up to my stinging ego. “I’m sorry I let her fall.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Accidents happen.”
“I know. But not on my watch. We’ll be more careful.”
12.
Josh
I stare into Betsy’s big, doe eyes and try to understand what just happened.
She’s the one who let Maven fall, around knives, no less. And somehow, I’m the one who feels like the bad guy.
The tears might have something to do with it.
I’ve never been very good with tears.
My sisters know this well and have weaponized the fact.
Erin was the one who messed up, but I take no pleasure in making her feel bad.
In fact, I feel awful about it.
Betsy bats her long eyelashes at me, and I scratch behind her jaw. She twitches her tail, ignoring the rest of the cattle milling about.
Of course, dad immediately sensed something was wrong when I came stomping back out of the house without lunch.
It’s not a surprise when I spot mom’s truck barreling down the drive. There’s no secrets between those two.
She hops down from the cab, fixing me with her patented ‘mom’ look. Part frustration. Part disappointment. It gets me every time.
I lean against the fence, watching her pick her way over to me. She stops, planting her hands on her hips. “What’s this I hear about you firing that poor girl?”
“I didn’t fire her.”
Mom tilts her head. “You didn’t?”
“No. We just both agreed it wasn’t a good fit.”
“A good fit?” Mom throws her hands up. “Josh, if you two were any better of a fit, you’d be on top of each other.”
That calls to mind a very visual image, one that I’m not prepared to think about with my mom standing right here. “I’m not ready to bring another person into the house.”
Mom’s gaze softens. “I know, Josh. I miss Ana, too. But she wouldn’t want you living like this.”
A small kernel of anger sparks to life in my gut. “Living like what?”
“Stuck.” Mom says, her voice gentle. “Either way, those two kids of yours need a woman in their life. Since you’re not in a hurry to start dating again…”
“That’s not happening.”
She tips her head. “I know, but all the more reason to give Erin a fair shot.”