“If we are doing this, no more secrets.” She pushes away from me, but I hold her tighter.

“Okay, fine, she was just surprised that I was introducing you to Ethan so fast,” I say.

“And?” she prompts.

“And I told her in no uncertain words that it was none of her business and that I was going—” I don’t finish because she puts her hand on my mouth when she sees Ethan come into the room.

“I have math homework,” Ethan says, “but I need help.”

“You go help him. I’m going to get dinner going,” she says, and I kiss her.

“Get your things and we can do it at the table.” I look at Ethan and walk to the table. I help Ethan with his homework while pots bang in the kitchen, and I hear her hissing on the phone with someone when she looks at me. “You don’t have bread crumbs.”

“Okay.” I don’t know if she’s asking me or telling me.

“I’m making mac and cheese, and, well, it’s not really mac and cheese without the bread crumbs.” She throws up her hands. “I’m going to need your keys.”

“For?” I ask and look at Ethan, who is pretending not to laugh at Kallie freaking out.

“For?” she says. “Did you not just hear what I said? I need bread crumbs.”

I shake my head, and I want to tell her that it’s going to be fine without it, but I’m not going to add fuel to that fire. “My keys are in the truck.”

“Okay, I’ll be back.” She turns off the stove. “Ethan.” She looks at him. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

“Um,” Ethan looks at me and then looks at Kallie, “apple crumble pie.”

“Okay,” she says, “I’ll see what I can do.” She turns and walks out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

“Um, Dad,” Ethan says, “is she going to bake me a pie?”

“Kiddo.” I look at him. “I have no idea.”

“She’s jumpy,” he says to me, and I look at him.

“She’s nervous,” I say. “She was nervous to meet you.”

“Why?” he asks. I tap my fingers on the table.

“Well, she knows how important you are to me,” I say.

“And she wants me to like her.” He nods at me as though he’s solved the puzzle.

“Yeah, kiddo.” I lean over and kiss his head. “She wants you to like her.”

“She’s pretty,” he says.

“She is,” I agree with him. “She’s always been.” I grab my wallet and take out a picture that I’ve kept hidden in the back. It’s frayed at the edges and the color has changed from glossy to a yellow tint. “This was us.” I show him the picture we took on prom night. The only one I had on my phone.