“Not talking? Pretty much.” Walker laughed it off, even though it stung him deep down. Even during the worse of the divorce, he and Doug never went this long without speaking.
Melinda scooted closer to him. He noticed just how meticulously parted down the middle her hair was. Literally none out of place.
“So Walker, I know we’re not this type of friends, but I couldn’t resist. There’s this lawyer at my brother’s firm that I think would be perfect for you. His name is Ryan. He’s tall, handsome, smart. A really great guy.”
She pulled up a picture on her phone, and sure enough, he was everything she described. Ryan wasn’t some Ralph Lauren model. He had his imperfections like a toothy smile and some wrinkles around his eyes, but that only made him cuter. Walker found him to be objectively attractive, what anyone would describe as a catch.
“He’s great with my kids. Fantastic sense of humor. He does very well,” she said under her breath.
“How old is he?”
“Forty.”
“Wow.” Then Walker remembered he was only four years younger.
“He was really impressed with your work.”
“You’ve already told him about me?”
“In passing,” she said with a sly smile that people get whenever they try to play matchmaker. “What do you think?”
He looked at the picture again. The man knew how to fill out a suit.
“I appreciate it, Melinda. I really do, but I’m not looking to date right now. I have my hands full with the business and Hobie.”
“Ryan works hard, too. And he’s on the hospital board. People make it work. You just have to want to find the time.”
He handed her phone back. “I know. I just want to focus on the business for now.”
She seemed to peer right inside him, straight through his layer of bullshit. “Are you still hung up on that boy?”
“No.” Walker watched his son climb across the monkey bars. “I’m just not looking to date now.”
“I don’t think you’ll find better than Ryan.” She shoved her phone into her purse. Melinda was not used to any type of rejection.
Φ
Walker picked up some of that hypoallergenic detergent en route to dropping off Hobie. He kept glancing at his son in the rearview mirror, who made funny faces at him.Life was good.He was allowed to think it without jinxing himself.
But was it true?
Doug opened the door and stopped Hobie from running inside. His eyes went straight to the strained shirt. “Hobie, you shouldn’t go down the slide on your stomach.”
That was directed as much to Walker as Hobie. Melinda must’ve given him a full download as soon as they parted ways.
“I got this detergent that Melinda recommended. It’ll be a distant memory.”
Doug nodded and prepared to close the door. Walker stepped inside.
“Can we talk?”
Hobie ran upstairs to his room. Walker wondered if those words were a trigger for him to get out of the line of fire. He appreciated how much of a trooper his son has been. He was lucky, and he knew it.
“We need to fix this,” Walker said. “For Hobie’s sake.”
Doug sat on the arm of the couch.
Walker sucked in a breath. “I was in a bad place that night I stormed in here.” This wasn’t easy, but it felt right. He kept going. “You were right. I was scared to go to New York. I’ve been scared for too much of my life, and you didn’t deserve to get sucked into that. But I loved you, and I cared about you.”
