I walk toward the bus stop after leaving Cam’s Café. I needed caffeine after our day of shopping. I still have an outline to finish for my paper, which I think will be about my estranged dad and how that impacts me. It’s cliché and an overdone topic, but it beats my mother the librarian led me to want to work in the book industry.
I’m making mental notes when out of the corner of my eye, I see a man that I swear is my dad.
He turns a corner, and I start hurrying in his direction. I make it to the end of the block and see him turn again at the next intersection.
“Dad!” I call out, but the man doesn’t look back; his dark, peppered hair is the last thing I see as he turns. It has to be him. I’m not crazy, am I?
I hurry again, practically running this time, and as I jog around the corner, I run straight into a giant wall of muscle. My face cranes up to see Hutch.
He grins down at me. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
I look around him and don’t see my dad. Fuck.
I take a moment to catch my breath, holding up a finger. Hutch guides me to a small bench outside an apartment building, and we sit.
“I…swear…I just saw…my dad,” I manage as I attempt to regulate my breathing.
He frowns and furrows his brows. “I thought your dad didn’t live around here?”
I’ve told Hutch a little about my family but not much. He just knows my parents are divorced, I don’t talk with my dad, and haven’t seen him in a long time, basically, the few things I tell most friends.
“I didn’t think so, but the past few weeks, I swear I keep seeing him…it’s like he’s a ghost or something,” I say, feeling like I sound crazier than I am.
“Could it just be a man who looks like him?” Hutch suggests. Why does his idea seem so…obvious and more likely than mine?
“Possibly,” I agree.
Hutch puts a hand on my shoulder. “You want it to be him, don’t you?”
I blink back tears that suddenly threaten for reasons I don’t understand. “Maybe,” I admit. Suddenly, I feel confused. Do I want it to be him?
He cups my face, and I feel my whole body lean toward him. Is he going to kiss me?
I start to close my eyes, but instead of leaning toward me, he just wipes a stray tear with his thumb before letting his hand drop. Fuck, stupid tears.
I sit up a little straighter. “Sorry, I’m an emotional mess. I…just swore it was him.”
“It’s OK to want to see him, Jocelyn. He’s your dad. Nothing is going to change that. Have you tried to find him, reach out to him?” Hutch asks.
I shake my head. My dumb pride keeps me from doing lots of things.
“Well, maybe we should try that. We could ask Kasen to help us look for him,” Hutch suggests.
“Do you think he’d do that?” I ask, feeling a little silly because I’ve never once thought to ask Kasen to help me find him. But to be fair, I’ve also never once thought to look for him, until now. Deep down, a part of me does want to reconnect with him, but another part of me wants to close the chapter on that relationship and move on because I’m afraid what will happen if I do see him.
“Of course, he would. That’s what friends are for, helping one another,” he says as if I’m being silly. And I suppose he’s right, that is what friends are for. I never ask my friends for anything, probably because I feel like I should be able to do it all on my own.
“Listen, I know you are a strong person, Jocelyn, and you can figure this mystery out all on your own, but why not have your friends help you? We all care about you. We can brainstorm while we’re on vacation, OK?” he offers with a warm smile.
“Really?” I ask, feeling my emotions creep up again.
“Really,” he promises.
“Thanks,” I reply as we stare at each other. I see some emotion flash across Hutch’s face, but it’s so quick that I can’t read what he’s thinking. My smile falters until Hutch recovers from whatever fleeting thought he had, and he too smiles before standing and holding out his hand.
“You heading home?” he asks as I take his hand and stand.
“Yep,” I reply, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder. Hutch reaches out and takes the strap of my bag, sliding it off my shoulder and placing it on his.
