God, Ethan really dug having Merry around.

Damn.

“Ethan, honey—”

He threw his controller down on the couch between us and crossed his arms on his little man chest, interrupting me. “I just want you to be happy. I know Gramma does too. She worries. She’s a mom, just like you, but I got you to look after me. She’s a mom with a kid who doesn’t have anyone who’ll look after her.”

And my kid was good at laying the guilt on too.

Shit.

“I’m an adult and I can look after myself, baby. I can look after both of us,” I told him.

“I know you can, Mom,” he declared impatiently. “But that doesn’t mean you should. Not alone. Not when you’re pretty and cool and funny and like football and should have a guy around who likes you just as much as Gram and me.”

“I can’t just order a guy off a menu, kid,” I told him jokingly, hoping to cut through his serious vibe because it didn’t sit real well that my son worried about me at all, but especially not feeling it this deeply.

It was the wrong thing to say, and I knew this when he set his little man jaw and turned his eyes angrily to the TV.

“You wanna look after me,” I surmised gently.

He tightened his arms on his chest.

Okay, I had to do something.

But God, what I had to do was lie to my kid.

“I’ll be happy someday, Ethan.” There was the lie. Then I gave him a kind of truth. “You’re right, you’re gettin’ older and I should let go a bit and take some time seein’ to me. I’ll do that, promise.” When he didn’t look to me, I prompted, “Yeah?”

It took him a second, but eyes still to the TV, he grunted, “Yeah.”

“I just love you a lot, baby,” I whispered and watched his chin wobble before he got control of it. “You’re the best thing I ever did and I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

He turned surly eyes to me. “I already won’t.”

“That’s good news,” I muttered.

He pushed it. “And I want you to promise that when I turn twelve, you’ll let me walk home by myself so you or Gram or Vi don’t have to come and get me.”

“How about we talk about that when you’re about to turn twelve,” I suggested. “Deal?”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, looking back at the TV.

I let out a sigh, then made a decision.

“Since we’ve already jumped headfirst into the intense, and you just laid it out to your mom that you’re growin’ up and I need to have a mind to that, there’s somethin’ I gotta talk to you about.”

He couldn’t hide his curiosity when he looked back to me.

“What?” he asked.

“Well…” I didn’t know where to begin.

When I didn’t speak further, my kid looked more curious, so I threw it out there.