He takes a long, lingering breath. “Yeah. I do. All these options in front of me—none of them seem right. I feel like there’s a piece of my life out there, and I can’t find it either. I never noticed it before. Maybe it didn’t exist before I retired. I don’t know, but I certainly feel it now.”

“We’re just two lost souls.”

He laughs. “That we are. So, dinner?”

It’s not the most seamless transition, but I’m grateful for it.

“Cheeseburgers from Fletcher’s?” I ask.

“Sounds great.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT PALMER

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

PALMER

How did you know that?” I look at my son like he has three heads. “Who are you hanging out with?”

Ethan laughs. “I read books, Mom.”

“You do?”

“Not by choice or anything. Teachers expect it.”

“Oh.”

Cole holds the remote control in the air. “Are we playing again?”

The closing credits of the third episode of an old game show roll across the television. I yawn, stretching my legs out on the ottoman in front of me.

“I’m not playing if Mr. Smarty-Pants over there is going to clean house in the astronomy category,” I say, nodding at Ethan.

“I also swept the Titanic category.”

“That you did.”

Cole laughs. “I’m not sure I want to play with you two again. I thought I was competitive, but . . .” He whistles. “You two make me nervous.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Mom is the least competitive person in the world until you turn on a game show. Then she’s like a vulture.”

“She actually did pretty bad in the bird category,” Cole teases.

I throw a pillow at him. “I hate birds, so that was unfair.”

“You also did terribly in mathematics,” he points out.

“And mythology,” Ethan chimes in.

I gasp. “Those are stupid categories. I killed it in nineties music and potpourri. Oh! And four-letter words. I nailed that.”

Ethan looks at Cole and smirks. “Are those even real categories?”

“Yes, they are,” I say.

Cole ignores me. “Compared to your astronomy knowledge and my deep understanding of world history and sports, I don’t think potpourri really holds a lot of water.” He glances at me. “She’s cute, though.”

I feel Ethan’s eyes on me, but I can’t look away from Cole. His grin is simple and adorable and makes me blush.

“Well, you’re both cute too,” I say, flipping my attention to Ethan. “And I’m super proud of your intelligence. You get that from me, you know.”

“Clearly.” Ethan gets to his feet and pretends to swing a bat. “You hit a home run with me.”

Cole stands too. “Not with that swing. Come here.”