“Oh, come on, Jess. You two have been inseparable for the last few weeks. So, how’s it going with her?”
I sit forward, putting my elbows on my knees, head in my hands, and groaning aloud before I speak. “It’s going terrible. She hasn’t talked to me in two weeks.” My dad chuckles, and when I look up, he’s thoroughly entertained by my current misery.
“Does this have anything to do with you having a throwdown at The Mill?” I sit up then, glaring. Before I can ask, he continues. “Your brother’s a bigger gossip than any of the old women in town.”
I roll my eyes, shake my head, and rest my head on the back of the chair.
“We got close when Wren was in Paris,” I say.
“Figured that. Your mom thought her moving in might help things along.”
“Help things along?” I ask, confused.
“Oh, your mom’s been waiting years for this, for one of you boys to make Hallie a King.” My jaw tightens at the memory that I thought she wanted Madden, but he corrects me quickly. “It became clear to me it would be you when she was twenty, or maybe twenty-two, but your mom is convinced she knew when Hallie was fifteen.”
“I was twenty when Hal was fifteen,” I say, in disbelief, but my dad just lifts a shoulder.
“I don’t question your mom’s ways, kid. You’ll learn that one day. You hit a point, your wife says something, and you say,Sounds good, dear.”
With his words, my mind doesn’t go to some far-off wife I might have one day, but to Hallie, and the idea of telling hersounds good, dear. She’d probably roll her eyes and smack me upside my head, thinking I was being sarcastic with her.
I smile at the image, and Dad laughs.
“See, she wasn’t wrong.”
I try to figure out what to say, moving between wanting to keep everything to myself and wanting to have someone to talk to about this finally. I settle somewhere in the middle.
“Yeah, well, we had a moment,” I say, and try to move past it quickly. “And we thought we could keep it casual.”
“Never works,” my dad says with a laugh.
“I thought I could handle it, but then Wren started trying to set her up on dates.” Dad’s head nods, knowing where this was going. “I kind of crashed their date, as you know. After, she stormed over to my house and yelled at me, which I deserved,even if I’d do it again.” It’s a strange feeling, knowing I was an ass but not being sorry about it. “Then I kind of confessed I didn’t want to be just friends.” I groan, remembering that night, how I pushed her too far, too fast. “She hasn’t talked to me in two weeks. Today was the first time she came to see Emma.”
My dad stares at me for long moments, reading me, taking me in before speaking.
“So, what’s the problem? Go get her. Make her yours. The two of you were meant to be together. Hell, the only thing that makes that clearer is the connection she and Emma clearly have.” At the very least, it’s good to know other people see it—that I’m not deluding myself in ideals and what I want.
“She doesn’t want a relationship,” I explain, and Dad lets out a laugh.
“I’m sure she tells herself that.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, the kind I heard a ton as a kid when he thought I was being too stubborn or irritating or frustrating, before he looks at me sternly.
“Hallie went through a lot as a kid—her mom leaving, her dad leaving the second he got a chance. She clung to this family as if it were a lifeline. You gotta hold that woman with kid gloves, Jess. Give her time. Don’t rush her, don’t scare her. Just be there, giving her what she needs a little at a time. Make her feel safe, make her feel loved. That’s all she wants.”
I sit with his words, seeing the truth in them, and trying to understand what that means for me. Before I can ask anything else, though, we’re interrupted by my mom calling for lunch, somehow knowing I was here. We don’t talk about Hallie again, even though I spent the rest of the day at my parents’ house. The entire time, my dad’s words move around me, swirling with ideas, thoughts, and realizations.
One way or another, I have to make Hallie feel safe enough to give us a shot.
I don’t return to my house until I get theall clearfrom Hallie that Emma had gone to bed, happy and healthy, and even then, I stay at my parents’ place for another thirty minutes. I’m nervous as all get-out when I walk home, my new plan formulating in my mind: be firm, don’t let her run, but don’t rush her. Let her take the reins, but make sure she’s listening to her heart, not her fear.
Easy enough.
BREAK
When I walk through the door of my home, my heart moves into my chest, seeing Hallie curled up on my couch. I have to slide my hands into my pockets to remind myself of my mission, of moving slow and giving her space, because when I see her, I just want to hold her.
