The Good Son by Carolyn Mills (free e reader txt) 📗

was. Most of my conversations, outside of work, were with Champ or my mother. I didn’t exactly have a rip-roaring social life.

More quickly than I expected, I relaxed enough to enjoy myself. Jonathan was easy to talk to and I kept looking at his arms wondering what it would feel like to have them wrapped protectively around me. Or to snuggle up against his broad chest. When we agreed to exchange numbers, my hand was shaking as I wrote on the napkin, and for a minute, I almost forgot my phone number. Quite apart from the sexual attraction I felt, I was aware of a tiny thrill at the prospect of telling Mom I had met someone.

We slept together on our third date. I expected it to be more momentous — not as rushed and clumsy as it turned out to be. Jonathan didn’t know how inexperienced I was and I didn’t feel the need to volunteer the fact that I had been, up until that point, a virgin.

I did wish, after that night, that I had someone to talk to about sex. It’s not like I could call up Walter and ask him anything, despite the easy understanding we used to share — all those conversations on his front porch or in the basement with the foosball table as a convenient and constant diversion. I needed advice, or reassurance, but had no one to turn to, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask my mom for pointers.

Eventually, I began to feel more natural about the physical aspects of our relationship although I think Jonathan would argue that he did most of the initiating. It was a good period of my life. I had a job, a house, a dog, and a boyfriend. I felt almost normal.

“DID YOU KNOW RICHARD MOVED out?” Mom practically shouted at me. “Lauren just told me.”

I moved the phone away from my ear. Ricky and Lauren were one week away from their fourth wedding anniversary. Mom was practically in hysterics.

“She doesn’t even know where he’s staying! I just can’t understand it.”

I could. Ricky had already told me all about Erika and how he was in love with her. Since meeting her, he said, his life with Lauren had begun to feel like a lie. I wasn’t surprised to hear he’d finally left Lauren, and I could guess exactly where he was staying. What I didn’t anticipate was how upset Mom would be about the whole thing. For what seemed like the first time in a long time, I felt the weight of her affections shift, and I became the golden child. The favoured one.

The only problem was that things were fizzling between me and Jonathan, too. We’d been dating for a few months, but lately we’d seen less and less of each other. It was hard for me to spend any amount of extended time at his place in Boelen because of Champ, but he didn’t exactly like staying at my place either.

“Ugh. Your dog peed in the kitchen again!” he would call out, making no effort to hide his disgust.

When he stayed over, Champ was ejected from my room and it was hard to concentrate on Jonathan with the dog whining outside the door. It wasn’t just the peeing in the house that bugged Jonathan, he complained about the dog hair and the smell, too.

Given how much he didn’t like being at my house, I was surprised when Jonathan invited himself over one afternoon. Thinking he must have missed me because we hadn’t seen each other in a few days, I was preparing to tease him, but when I opened the door, he greeted me with a half-hearted smile that already felt like an apology.

“This is a surprise,” I said. “You want a drink?” I was unnerved by his sad smile.

“Maybe just water.”

I sent Champ outside, blocking off his doggy door so he couldn’t get back in, and grabbed two waters. When I carried the drinks to the living room, Jonathan was perched stiffly on the edge of my plaid couch.

“Here you go,” I said, setting his glass on the coffee table. I briefly considered sitting next to him, but then opted for the armchair, a safe distance away.

Jonathan took a long sip of water. “Zoe,” he finally said, “I don’t think this is working.”

I could hear Champ barking at the back door. Even though it was a beautiful day, he didn’t want to be outside. He wanted to be near me. I fought the urge to get up and let him in. “Okay,” I said slowly. “You mean us, obviously. Are you breaking up with me?”

“It’s just — we don’t —”

“You don’t need to explain.” I shook my head and stared at the glass in my hands. Was I upset? I couldn’t tell. The thought that I would miss sleeping with Jonathan briefly flashed through my mind.

“But I want to explain. Zoe, I like you, I really do, but it’s more like we’re good friends than two people who are in love with each other.”

In love. Wow. Had he been waiting for me to tell him that I loved him? We’d only been dating a few months for Pete’s sake. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe after a few months most people knew whether or not they were in love.

“So you think something’s missing.” I was a bit surprised, to be honest, that Jonathan had summoned up the nerve to drive all the way to Dunford just to break up with me. This was a guy who talked all the time about creating some sort of camp for kids who couldn’t afford to play hockey, but had never taken any steps to making that plan a reality. He struck me as someone who wanted more, but who didn’t have the wherewithal to go out and do anything about it. I must have sucked as a girlfriend more than I realized.

“I can’t even tell if you want to see me half the