“Good riddance. Both to that game, that sex toy, and Jeff. Honestly, there’s a reason that toy didn’t fit,” Cornelia says with a raised eyebrow, making us all laugh again.
And just like that, everyone begins telling truth or dare stories instead of actually playing the game. I find myself remembering playing with Val growing up and the fun we had. Maybe I should confide in her about thinking I’ve seen our father. Or maybe not.
I look back out the window and see Hutch walking toward the park in his hunting gear. Cliff sits on the bench as if waiting for his human friend to arrive.
A part of me wonders if Hutch is as lonely as I feel at times. And that same part of me wants desperately to wrap up my girls’ night and go sit with him in the snow. But I should know better than to trust men. I couldn’t even trust my dad to stick around. Why would a former football player want me around anymore than I already am?
CHAPTER SIX
Hutch
I look down at my phone and read the article about Farley and his new team. Cliff comes toward me, and I watch him in my peripheral vision.
“Get those seeds, buddy,” I whisper as I finish reading the article. The pain in my chest isn’t from working out. I’m pretty sure it’s from the heartache I feel. That article should be about both of us. But it isn’t, and it never will be.
I feel my hip twinge as if acknowledging this fact.
“What are we doing here?” I ask Cliff as he sits down and starts cleaning his back foot.
A rustling sound from behind me draws my attention. Al.
“I see you made a forest friend,” he says with a wink as he walks over and sits down next to me.
“Cliff, Al. Al, Cliff,” I introduce, waving my hand.
Al nods at the animal and then looks back at me. “You coming up to happy hour?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” I answer, my eyes still locked on the furry creature in front of us.
“Any updates on the vacation week?” he asks.
“I think I have some dates locked in. I just want to run it by everyone first before I book the flights,” I explain. Cliff looks up at me, and I reach into my pocket and pull out the last of the bird seed, tossing it near him. He scurries over and begins to eat it.
“Well, I’m off to set up the bar. I’ll see you up there,” he says, and I watch his gaze shift toward the street where Jocelyn is walking from Cam’s Café over to the bookstore. Her curly hair bounces as she walks. Her hips sway to what I can only guess is music. What I wouldn’t give to grab those hips…wait, no, I have to stop thinking about her that way.
“Jocelyn is great, isn’t she?” Al says. “I love her spunk. She has this sassiness about her that reminds me of Edith when we were younger.”
“Oh?” I say, suddenly feeling a twinge of sadness over the loss of his wife. She was the kindest woman, and everyone who knew her still misses her.
“Yes. I’m surprised some young man hasn’t swooped in to ask her out. If I were a few decades younger…” He trails off, and I look over at him. He laughs when he sees my face. “What? I’m old, not dead.”
I chuckle. “Al, don’t even think about it.”
“Huh. I think you might have a crush on her,” he says, his voice low as if we’re sharing a secret, which we sort of are. And damn, am I that obvious?
“Nah. We’re just friends,” I say, waving my hand and trying to play it cool.
He eyes me up over the rim of his glasses. I clear my throat. “Well, we should probably get up there, huh?”
“Sure,” Al says as we stand, and I follow him toward the front of the park.
“Have a good night, Cliff,” I call out as we leave.
“By the way, I think Cliff is a Cliffette,” Al says.
“What? No way. He’s Cliff. He’s one of us. A dude,” I insist.
“Well, if dudes have lady parts, then I guess he’s a dude,” Al says, and I frown as I think about Cliff and what he looks like. Shit, maybe he is a she.
