She shrugs. “No. Dipshit here decided to randomly hop on an international flight to come see me. Al picked him up from the airport and now we’re catching up with Roxy while I wait for Fletcher to finish up with something at the café,” she explains.
Roxy leans against the checkout desk. “To what do we owe the honor?” she asks as she pets Licorice, her cat that’s just jumped up on the desk.
Farley leans forward in a conspiratory way. “We need to fix Hutch. My wife reads a lot of romance novels, and I remember Hutch mentioning his book club here, so I figured, if anyone can help us, it’s you.”
Roxy giggles. “Call me the Obi-Wan Kenobi of romances.”
“Uh, why not talk to a therapist about it?” Drew asks. “I mean, I’m all for romance novel help, but…” He trails off as he looks at me.
“Well, I am seeing a therapist, but he has no advice on Jocelyn other than to give her time,” I admit.
“Wait? I thought Jocelyn was just visiting family,” Roxy says with a frown.
“She’s visiting family?” I ask. It’s only been a little more than four days since we spoke. How could she be visiting family already?
“Yeah. Two days ago, she said she was going to try to spend a little time with her dad. He agreed to go with her and Val to visit his mom and sister,” she explains. “She didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head. “No. We…she said she needed time and that we were too fucked up at the minute. So, we haven’t spoken in over four days.”
“Well, shit. That explains her foul mood,” Roxy says as her brows furrow. “Did you guys have a fight?”
I shake my head. “No. Anything but. She was super quiet at happy hour, and then when we got back, I asked what was wrong, and she basically said she was dealing with a lot of shit with her dad and that I needed to sort out my family shit, and we should take a breather.”
“OK, so you didn’t break up, just giving it some space?” she asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. We haven’t spoken. It’s the longest I’ve gone without talking to her since we exchanged numbers a few months ago.”
“And have you…you know, spoken to your family?” Drew asks.
I shake my head again. “No.”
“Dude, go see your parents. You have been talking to them more. Just get everything out in the open. Stop pussyfooting around about it,” Farley says.
Al stands and sets his book down. “Go see your family, and then we’re having a bonus happy hour.”
“I don’t know. I…” I trail off because all of this seems like a lot, maybe too much.
“I’ll drive. Let’s go,” Farley says, shoving me toward the entrance.
I turn at the door. “Why do we need a bonus happy hour?”
Al laughs. “Because you need a grand gesture. You’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. She just needs a nudge. And trust me, if I learned anything from being married to Edith, it’s sometimes you need your actions to speak louder than your words.”
My mom and dad sit at the dining room table. I left Farley to play with the one and only donkey on the property.
“I need to talk to you both,” I say. My leg taps with nerves. I’ve never been this blunt with them.
They remain quiet. “I know I sort of alluded to why I’ve stayed away, but I wanted to actually talk about it,” I start.
“Go ahead, son,” Dad urges.
I swallow. It’s time to rip off this bandage. “After I recovered from the accident, I felt like you all pulled away. That’s why when I had to sell my house, I decided to move into the city. And then, it was like I never saw you anymore, never heard from you,” I explain. “I guess I felt like you didn’t want me around. I know you felt bad about the tractor, but it wasn’t your fault. It was mine for taking it up the incline instead of using the longer path. I knew it needed servicing, and I acted impulsively.”
Dad lets out a breath. “Hutchinson, of course we blamed ourselves. You were out playing ball. You had a life, and you loved it. And here we were asking you to still help us yourself instead of just eating some humble pie and accepting your offer to pay for an employee. And because of that, we ruined your whole life,” he says, and I see tears in his eyes. Fuck. Dad never cries.
“We felt awful, Hutch. But then you moved on with your life. We didn’t want to be constant reminders to you. We wanted you to thrive again, sweetheart,” Mom adds. “We told Ally and Bryson to give you space. We figured you’d come around when you were ready.”
Well, shit. “I thought you didn’t want me in your lives anymore,” I confess. “I thought it was too much of a painful reminder.”
