Chapter Nineteen
Ethan
I slid the omelet off the pan and onto the plate beside the waffle I had decorated with whipped cream, syrup, and strawberries. Then, I put the plate in front of Devon. She stared at it, wide-eyed, before looking up at me with something akin to adoration in her eyes.
“This is incredible,” she said gratefully, picking up her fork and carving off a corner of the waffle. She took a bite, closed her eyes as she chewed, and bounced her feet happily on the foot stand of the barstool. “You should have been a chef.”
I took the seat beside her and took a bite myself. It was good, I’d give myself that much credit, but it wasn’t as good as she was making it sound. I wondered if the pregnancy was having an impact on her taste buds.
“It’s not too shabby,” I said.
“Shabby?” Devon said incredulously. “These waffles beat the ones at that little crepe place down on Sixth. Heather and I used to go there all the time and …” She trailed off, her eyes becoming glassy as she put her fork down and dabbed the whipped cream off her upper lip with the back of her hand.
That all too familiar guilt swirled in my gut. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” I asked. I knew the separation between Devon and my sister was killing her. I had caught her staring off into space several times, and by the morose expression on her face, I knew she was thinking about her friend.
Devon nodded. “Yeah. And I feel like there’s so much going on right now that she should be a part of, you know?”
I did know. I felt the same way. I wished Heather was around to enjoy how good things were going with me. “I know.”
Then, an idea struck me. I pushed my plate away and twisted on my stool to face Devon directly. She was leaning over her plate with her fork halfway to her mouth. She paused and looked up at me, her eyes still a little watery from holding her tears at bay.
“How about a little trip to get your mind off things? I have a place in the Hamptons. We could wander through town. There are lots of nice little bakeries and whatnot. What do you say?”
Devon put her fork down. “Are you serious?”
“Hell yeah, I am. Go pack your bag. Bring warm clothes. It’ll be cold as tits there.”
I had Eddison drop us off in Sag Harbor. He left us at the curb and pulled away to make for my Hampton estate with our bags. Devon turned to me, tucking a strand of windblown dark hair behind her ear.
“This place is so sweet,” she said, looking both ways down the narrow sidewalks at the little shop fronts. “Where do we start?”
“Wherever you want,” I said, spreading my arms out to my sides. “The place is ours for the day.”
She grinned and proceeded to look back and forth. She looked adorable, all bundled up in her white puffy winter jacket. The hood was lined with faux fur that danced in the cold breeze around her cheeks. She had a red scarf wrapped around her neck and wore a matching headpiece that covered her ears and forehead. Her blue jeans hugged her legs and were tucked into a pair of fuzzy boots that matched her jacket.
“Let’s go there,” she said, pointing across the street to a little cafe. “I could really go for some hot chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate?” I said, arching an eyebrow. “How sophisticated of you.”
She giggled as I took her hand and the two of us half jogged across the street. “Well, I’m not supposed to have too much caffeine, remember? My coffee cravings are finally gone, so I’ll settle for hot chocolate. Judge me all you want.”
“I’m not judging,” I said earnestly. “I think I’ll get the same. I hope they have sprinkles.”
Devon surprised me with very unladylike, full belly laughter as we hopped up on the curb. I found that I quite loved the sound of it, and throughout the rest of our afternoon around town, I did everything in my power to try to hear it as many times as possible.
We wandered in and out of each and every shop. Devon admired the pastel-colored shawls and dresses, all of which I plucked from their hangers and purchased for her despite her loud protests.
“If you like them, you should have them,” I said simply.
“No,” she said as I handed the cashier in one of the shops my credit card. “Most people don’t get things simply because they want them.”
“Well, I do,” I said, pocketing the card and taking the bag of clothes from the counter, “and therefore, so do you. I have money that I’ll never spend. Let me spend some of it on you. You deserve at least that much.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, and she braced herself against the cold wind when we stepped outside. “You’re too kind to me,” she said.
I put a hand on the small of her back as we walked to the next shop. I didn’t say anything. It didn’t feel like anything needed to be said. I opened the door for her, and we ducked inside, the bell chiming above our heads as the door closed.
Later, around two in the afternoon, we made our way down to the beach. We set out along the sand, shopping bags draped over my right arm, and talked happily about the baby. I couldn’t stop from smiling, and every time I looked over at her, she was smiling back at me. The waves of the ocean crashed behind her, and the wind blew her hair all over the place, and I couldn’t think of a time where she had looked more beautiful.
“Do you have any name ideas?” Devon asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for the hundredth time.
I was a little surprised by the question. “No,” I said. “To be honest, I haven’t really given them any thought.”
“Really?” Devon asked.
“Yeah. I sort of figured we’d know the right name when we saw him, you know?”
“We?”
I met her stare. “Of course, we,” I said, “unless you don’t want to partake in naming him.”
“No, it’s not that,” Devon said with a smile. “I just didn’t know if you’d want the help, or if you would rather name your son on your own.”
“As long as you don’t suggest anything like Bob or George or something like that, I’m sure I would appreciate your help,” I joked.
She giggled, pressed a finger to her chin, and feigned thoughtfulness. “Well, I don’t know about Bob or George. But I was really thinking that Harold Garrison had a nice ring to it.”
“Harold? Really?” I asked, struggling not to burst into laughter. “I don’t want to hold my newborn and look down at him and call him Harold. That’s an old man’s name.”
“Well, he’ll be an old man one day. It’s a name he can grow into.”
“It’ll take him six decades to grow into it!” I exclaimed, drawing to a stop.
I keeled over and slapped her thighs as she laughed. “I’m messing with you, Ethan! I think we can come up with a better name than that for him. Besides, he doesn’t feel like a Harold.”
“No?” I asked as we started walking again. “What does he feel like?”
She smiled thoughtfully and put her gloved hands on her stomach. “I don’t know yet.”
I had the sudden overwhelming urge to grab her hand, pull her to me, and kiss her. But I didn’t. It wasn’t something two people in a legally binding contract did. That was something a couple did, a couple who was expecting their first child.
I looked down, fixating on the sand under my boots as we made our way farther down the beach.
“It’s beautiful here,” Devon said after a while. She was looking out at the ocean. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to ever come here.”
“You can come back anytime you like,” I said. “Seriously. My beach house is just up the way, near the end. If you ever want to use it in the future, you’re more than welcome to.”
She turned back to me. “That would be nice,” she said before looking back at the ocean. “That would be really nice.”
We kept walking, our feet sinking in the sand. Soon the sky was darkening, and the horizon was bright with shades of pink and purples. We stopped to face the ocean and take in the sight.
“He’s a lucky kid,” Devon said, “to have you as his father.” Her bright eyes flicked to me, and she gave me one of those brilliant smiles of hers that made my knees feel like putty. “Seriously, Ethan, he’s going to be so blessed. Not to mention, I’m sure he’ll turn out to be a perfect gentleman like you.”
“I don’t know if I’d consider myself that,” I chuckled.
She looked back out at the ocean with a smile still lingering in the corners of her mouth. “Oh, but you are. How you’ve treated me over the last few months, I couldn’t ask for anything more, Ethan. I’m truly grateful for everything.”
I reached down and took her hand in mine. I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’re welcome. And I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me too.”
We stood like that, hand in hand, watching the sun dip below the curved line of the horizon until, all at once, the sun was gone and the stars were twinkling above in the pale darkness of dusk.