He rubs my back. “Everything will be OK,” he says, and I know he means that. And for the first time in many years, a small chunk of the wall I built up to protect myself from the hurt he inflicted by leaving us falls away. We can’t fix all of this now, but maybe we can start to. Maybe we can form something new, like he said. I just have to trust that it will work out. I’ve never tried that before, but right now, it feels…right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Hutch
I stare out at the city. I’ve been at the office for six hours, but I can’t manage to do any work. I've started a dozen emails and not finished them. I’ve opened a half dozen spreadsheets only to examine the boxes without filling them in or manipulating the data.
A knock at my door draws my attention away from the procrastination on my laptop.
“You look like shit,” Farley says as he leans on the doorjamb and crosses his arms.
I run a hand through my hair and tie it back again. “That obvious, huh?”
With a nod, he steps into my office and sits down. “What’s up? You haven’t returned a single text. I even stopped by that gym you love, and your friend Kasen said you had bailed twice this week. That’s not like you.”
I push back and put my elbows on my knees as I stare down at the ground. “I haven’t figured out how to fix the mess with my family. I’ve spent the last six months looking for some random person who leaves flowers on a bench every day instead of dealing with reality. I fell in love with a woman who just left me because of how fucked up I am.” I rub a hand over my face. “So, in summary, I don’t have my dream job, my dream house, my dream family, or my dream woman. But I do have a raccoon named Cliff.”
“A raccoon?” Farley asks.
“Really? I just poured my fucking heart out and all you took away from that was a raccoon?” I ask as I peer through my fingers at my friend.
He laughs. “Dude, get the fuck up. I heard your friend owns a romance bookstore. We need real help, and sitting here talking about your woe is me bullshit isn’t getting us anywhere. I’d ask my woman, but she’d just point out that you’re being a tool.”
“A tool?” I ask.
“Yeah, my mom always says that. Come on, let’s go,” he urges as he stands and motions for me to follow him.
And for reasons I can’t explain, I do.
The bell over the door makes me a little sad. It reminds me of Edith. Al’s wife was the sweetest woman ever. She was the grandmother everyone in this building needed. She’d listen to our problems and bake us cookies or make us soup. I don’t know how Al keeps going without her.
As if I’ve summoned him, I look over to find Al sitting in a chair by the window.
He sets down a Jane Austen novel and looks over at us. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” he calls out as Roxy walks around a shelf and glances in our direction. I look around but don’t see Jocelyn. I’m half relieved and half disheartened. I miss her.
“Wow, two football players. You guys cosplaying as why-choose-romance characters?” she teases.
“As what?” Farley asks.
Roxy laughs out loud, and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing.
“Very funny,” I grumble.
“I have no idea what the hell that is, but we are here for romance advice,” Farley says.
“Did someone say romance advice?” a familiar voice says from behind a bookshelf.
Cam’s former roommate and best friend, Drew, pops his head around the shelf.
“Drew?” I ask, in shock to see my old friend. He’s been living in Italy for a few months with his boyfriend.
“Hutch!” he says excitedly, coming over to hug me. I hug him back and then motion to Farley. “Farley, Drew. Drew, Farley.”
“Wow, do all football players look like giants?” he asks as he sizes us up. Drew isn’t short, but he’s nowhere near the height of Farley and me.
“Hutch is here?” Cam says as she pops her head out from another shelf.
“What the hell? Is the whole building here?” I ask.
