I lean over the pile of papers between us and hug her. “I love you, Mom,” I whisper.
“Love you too,” she replies as she rubs my back. I don’t know if I’ll see my dad again, but at least I have her, Val, Hutch, and all my friends on Hearts Lane.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Hutch
“I told my mom about you,” Jocelyn says as she sets her book down. We’re curled up on my sofa after feeding Cliff, a routine that has begun to feel habitual and comforting. I’m reading my men’s book club book about a spy and the woman he’s supposed to be watching, and she’s reading an enemies-to-lovers workplace romance book. It feels like we’ve been together forever, and I love that. I love that I can go hang with the guys, or she can go out with her friends, and then we come back here and just enjoy each other’s company. I’ve never experienced something like this in a relationship before now.
“Oh?” I say, attempting to remain calm. But inside, I’m excited. We haven’t done the whole meet the family thing yet, but I’d like to meet her family. I realize I may never meet her father, but I’d at least like to meet her mom and sister.
“Yeah. She wants to have you over for dinner soon,” she says nonchalantly.
I turn and roll her onto her back, hovering over her. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
She giggles. “Uh, yeah.”
I kiss her. “I’d love to meet your family.”
She grins up at me and then frowns. “Will I…get to meet yours? I mean, someday?”
I’m frowning now, too. I haven’t spoken to my family since I sent a quick text letting them know I was home from my vacation. We don’t talk as much as I’d like. Usually, it’s me checking on my parents, but sometimes I talk with my siblings, especially my sister. I know my brother proposed to his girlfriend a few months ago. I guess I’ll get a wedding invite. I’ve only met her a few times when I’ve stopped out at the farm to help with something that my brother couldn’t afford to hire someone to do.
“Sure. Maybe this spring,” I say, trying to push off the timeframe.
“OK,” she whispers.
“We don’t talk a lot. It’s just been weird since the accident, as you know,” I say, reminding her. I have talked a bit about it with her and how I wish things were less awkward with them. We used to be really close. But after I sold my house, which was near the farm, I feel like I only see them at birthdays and holidays. My sister probably texts me the most. And even she only messages me two or three times a month now. I know she’s been busy studying to get her degree in agricultural business. She dropped out of college for a while to help with the farm, but I talked her into going back to school three years ago. She’ll graduate this spring.
“I know,” she says, reaching up to stroke my cheek. “I wish you’d talk to them more. Be the bigger person, make that first move. I can tell they mean a lot to you. Maybe they think you don’t want them in your life.”
I glare at her. “I have been clear that I do,” I say defensively. I know I have made it clear, haven’t I?
“Alright, alright. I was just suggesting,” she says.
I sigh. “You’re right. I should talk with them.”
“Maybe go stop by the farm. You always seem so calm when you come back from there. I can tell you miss it. It was a huge part of your life for twenty-five years,” she points out, and I hate that she’s right. I do miss it. I miss the animals and the wide-open spaces. I miss taking one of the horses out to check the miles of fences on the property. I love the city and the family I’ve made here, but something about the farm will always hold a special place in my heart.
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll do that,” I agree. Jocelyn has class tomorrow, and I have a free afternoon after a meeting was cancelled. I decide to rip off the bandage and go see my family. I just hope they want to see me too.
I pull up to my parents’ farmhouse. They renovated it when I was ten. It’s pale blue with white trim and shutters and a yellow front door. I can see where trim needs to be repainted, and a few boards on the front porch need replacing. I look out toward the main barn. It could also use some paint, but all in all, the place looks decent.
I park and get out, stretching my hip. The drive only takes a little under an hour, but I typically don’t sit crammed in small spaces for that long.
I walk up toward the front door when I hear someone call my name. Looking around, my gaze lands on my sister, Alicia.
“Ally!” I call out with a wave as she runs toward me. Her nickname flows off my tongue as if I say it every day.
She runs up to me and pulls me into a hug.
“Hey,” I say as I embrace her, smelling the hay on her hair. She must have been mucking stalls.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks as she pulls back to look up at me. Ally is tall but nowhere near as tall as I am. Our brother, Bryson, is about three inches shorter than I am. My parents always joked that I sucked up all the tall genes when I was born, leaving my siblings to be normal tall.
“Just thought I’d stop by and say hello. I had the afternoon off,” I explain as I look around. “Do you have any projects you need help with?”
“Of course. There are never-ending projects, but you know that,” she laughs as she takes my hand and tugs me toward the house. “Let’s see if Mom has lunch ready before we put you to work.”
