Read Online The "What If" Guy by Brooke Moss - Free Book Online Page A

about to urinate in another flower garden.
    “What?”
    “Why didn’t you try to reconnect with Henry?”
    “He had a bright future ahead. He was going to be a college-level art history teacher. He didn’t need a single mom stumbling back into his life. Elliott wasn’t his child, and I’d broken bothof our hearts. I had no right to try to burrow back into his life after what I’d done.” My words weighed heavy with regret.
    She gave me a sideways glance. “But you never stopped loving him?”
    “No.”
    I tried to push thoughts of Henry to the far corners of my mind. Thinking about him made me melancholy. I pulled my coat tighter and plastered on a false smile. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He hates me—that much is clear. He’s probably off on a date right now.”
    “Or he’s pining for the beautiful redhead he dated years ago.”
    “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “The redhead who got knocked up by a different guy.”
    We walked along, the kids running to each door, begging for candy.
    “How’s Elliott doing?” Holly asked. “Tabitha said he was almost in tears on the bus the other day.”
    I sucked in a deep breath. “He’s miserable. His grades are nothing like they were in Seattle, and his attitude is becoming unbearable.”
    “His grades are suffering? Have you met with his teachers?”
    “It’s becoming clear that I need to.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you avoiding it?”
    “Because—”
    Holly laughed. “Because you’re afraid of running into Henry.”
    “Mommy.” Trevor came running toward us. “They gave out the big kind of candy bars here.”
    “Fabulous.” Holly held her hand out. “Hand it over.”
    Trevor paled and hid his Hershey bar behind his back.
    “Run, Trevor. Your mama’s eating for two.” I covered my mouth to hide my giggles.
    When her son sprinted in the opposite direction, Holly frowned. “Damn. I really wanted that candy bar.”
    I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out a snack-sized bar, and handed it to her. “Here. Feed that baby.”
    She tore it open. “Let’s get back to this Henry subject.”
    “Let’s not.” I caught Elliott’s eye as he stood on a neighbor’s porch. I smiled, hoping he was happy tonight.
    We approached the center of town, where a hot chocolate and caramel apple booth had been set up for the trick-or-treaters. Almost everyone in town walked around wearing coats and costumes. Little kids squealed with delight, running down the hill toward the crowd. Parents followed in groups of two or three, chatting happily.
    “They do such a good job every year on the Halloween celebration.” Holly adjusted the baby in the pack on her back, who was sleeping through his first trick-or-treating outing, then pointed at Tanner, who’d tripped on the curb. Cody trotted off to help him up.
    We’d almost reached the center of town. Lit jack-o-lanterns lined the sidewalk and Smartie had put out a boom box that played Monster Mash on a continual loop. A few adults danced with their kids, while others clapped to the rhythm of the music. It was cheesy to the tenth degree—and absolutely charming.
    Elliott stormed up the sidewalk toward us, his wizard robes flapping behind him.
    “I want to go home,” he said in a hushed voice.
    “What? Why?” I looked around, confused.
    “I’m just done,” he muttered, not looking me in the eye.
    I glared down the street. “Are those bullies here?”
    Let me at the little bastards .
    “No, it’s not that,” Tabitha said, her Dorothy wig crooked on her head. “It’s Billy Cole.”
    Behind me, Elliott groaned. “Can we just go home?”
    I clutched his arm. “Why? Did you see Grandpa?”
    “He’s over there,” Tabitha said, pointing. “By the haystacks.”
    My eyes followed her line of sight several yards.
    Oh, no .
    My father stood on a hay bale, yelling obscenities out of synch with Monster Mash . He held a half-empty beer bottle and a lit cigarette, which came increasingly closer to the