I Walked Into My Son's Father's Engagement Party With Our Four-Year-Old, and His Mother Wasn't Surprised novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Properly

Kent's father had a cabin at Barren River Lake with a tin roof and a dock that leaned a little to the left.

He had pressed the key into Kent's hand on Sunday morning.

"It's yours," he said. "I took your mother to her sister's in Paducah. Take them out there."

So on Sunday afternoon I stood on that dock in a one-piece bathing suit from 2019, holding a towel.

Eli splashed in the shallows in orange floaties and sang a song about bottle caps.

Kent sat in the water up to his chest, letting Eli climb on him.

He had been out of a job for a week.

He had found a lifeguard whistle in the cabin junk drawer and hung it around his neck.

He looked about twenty-five.

"Come in!" Eli yelled.

"I'm good!"

"Mama, come in!"

"Sweetie, it's cold."

"It's medium cold!"

Kent grinned at me.

That was the problem.

It was the same grin I'd fallen for at a bonfire when I was twenty-five, and it still went straight to my stomach.

I climbed down the ladder.

The water was cold and gritty and smelled of green.

I waded out to where the bottom dropped, and Kent caught my elbow.

"I opened the account," he said quietly. "Eli's. Twenty-six thousand dollars. The truck and what I had in savings. The paper's in the cabin if you want to see it."

"I don't need to see it."

"I want you to."

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