Page 47
“You know your mom’s birthday is tomorrow.”
“I didn’t forget,” I say like a sixteen year old about to be in trouble.
“You got her a gift?” he presses, squinting at me.
“Yes, Dad.”
“Good. Better give it to her tonight.”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“What do you think?”
“Right. Telling.” I stand, paperwork in hand. “I’ll sign this in the morning.”
“But you’re here right now,” he says with a frown.
“Yeah, but you told me I should go see Mom.” I stride to the door, a smirk on my face as he mutters behind me about me being a shithead and how he might need to rethink the agreement, though I know he’s only teasing.
I pause at the threshold, looking over my shoulder. “Hey, old man?”
He glances at me. “What?”
“Thanks.”
Any mock annoyance on his face fades, and he dips his head in acknowledgement. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Hudson.”
With that approval settling in my chest, I leave the office and climb into my truck, eyeing the gift for Mom on the passenger seat and shaking my head at how Dad bossed me around. Some things never change.
I park outside of Mom’s house. Michelle is cleaning out her garden beds but pauses to wave at me. I return the gesture and grab the present, tucking it under my arm as I climb out. When I was younger, still angry about the divorce, I used to hate Michelle. Now though, I’ve realized that parents are humans too. Sometimes they make mistakes, and when I was a kid, they were barely my age, still truly figuring out who they were.
That pain of my parents divorcing is still there, even though I’m not mad anymore. Michelle and Mom have a great relationship, and they treat my dad with respect. I think part of what helped me be okay with everything is how well Dad handled the situation.
“Hey, Michelle.” I stop beside her and give her a side hug. “Preparing for winter?”
She nods. “I swear I’ve picked up leaves three times before this.”
“Need any help?”
“Oh, no, sweetie, I’m almost done.” She glances at the wrapped box. “Present for Kim?”
“Dad told me to come tonight instead of tomorrow.”
Michelle grins. “Smart man. Your mom and I are going on a short trip tomorrow afternoon.”
“Where to?”
“Up to Hot Springs.”
About an hour away from Big Ridge, Hot Springs has, as its name suggests, natural hot springs and several of the region’s nicest spas. “That sounds really nice.”
“I hope so.” She dusts her hands off on her pants. “Well, should we go in?”
“After you.”
She leads the way inside where the clatter of pans and spatulas creates a soundtrack. The acrid scent of burnt food wafts over to us as soon as we enter. Michelle and I exchange knowing looks. Mom loves the idea of cooking and baking, but she’s still working on getting good at it.
“You know the drill,” Michelle warns.
