36. Hudson
36
HUDSON
I stride up and down my hallway, unable to stop moving. We got home from New York a few days ago, and I have been on edge ever since. Jumping back into work is all that’s been able to keep my head on straight, but just barely. That changed this morning, though, when I woke up with an overwhelming need to get justice for Lacy. I’ve tried to set aside what she told me, my festering anger over what she’s been through unable to be suppressed any longer.
“Dad, your turn!” Harvey yells, and I pace back down to the dining room, where there is a board game out and my parents and Harvey are sitting around the table.
My father frowns at me, so I plaster a fake smile on my face.
“Already my turn?” I ask, trying to act like I am having an awesome time.
“Here are the dice!” Harvey says, smiling as I take the dice from him and roll them on the board, moving my piece along .
“Next!” I say, handing the dice to my mother, who senses something is up as I turn and walk back down the hall, pulling at my hair. I hear her and Harvey giggling in the background, and I roll my head on my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that builds.
“Son,” Dad says from behind me, his tone laced with concern.
“I’m fine. I just have some work things to do,” I tell him, lying about where my stress comes from.
“Well, go do them. We’ll take Harvey up to our place for afternoon tea,” he says, and I nod in appreciation.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say with a heavy exhale.
“You tell me if you need anything.” He knows this isn’t a work thing at all. If I can be half the father to Harvey that my dad is to me, that would be amazing.
He turns and walks back to the table before I hear him telling the others that he feels like ice cream and that Grandma has chocolate chip in her freezer. Harvey shouts in excitement before jumping up from the chair and racing out the door, my parents chuckling at him and following his fast-paced steps.
When they’re gone, I continue my pacing, with my baby girl at the forefront of my mind. All I can think about is what kind of asshole would prey on innocent college kids who are from small towns and on scholarships. It’s almost the perfect storm. Country kid without city knowledge or life experience or contacts, who genuinely believes the senior professors at their school are genuine and honest, who can’t afford to fail even one test as their grades are connected to their funding. The whole thing reeks of a power imbalance and must be a gold mine for those who, like Lacy’s professor, want to take advantage of young people while they have no real support system.
I struggle with wanting to hire private detectives to search every motherfucking professor on that campus so I can find the man responsible, and keeping this to myself as Lacy has requested.
It is unlike me. My medical profession and ethics instill that I help, not harm, yet for the first time ever, I want to do some damage. I can’t. I promised her I wouldn’t. But the bitterness on my tongue is not abating and the heaviness in my gut is not diminishing.
The ringing of my cell grabs my attention, and I frown when I see the name on the screen.
“Hudson?” he says as I pick up before I even talk.
“Hello, sir. Nice to hear from you,” I say to Gordon, Amanda’s father, the man I haven’t seen or spoken to for years. I still remember him on our wedding day. He wore a scowl on his face the entire time, like he was at his daughter’s funeral, not her wedding. He left pretty quickly after the formalities. I remember Amanda said at the time he had to rush to work commitments, which I found strange, but now, knowing what kind of philandering asshole he is, it’s clear he just had a better offer.
“Yes. Melody has told me that you are back in Whispers,” he says, straight to the point—not asking how Harvey or I are, not entertaining any type of casual banter—and I roll my eyes. He clearly doesn’t give a shit about his grandson. We have been here for months, and this is the first call.
“Yes. We moved a while back. It’s nice to give Harvey some fresh air and space to run around,” I tell him, my already agitated state increasing.
“Well, Gloria and I were thinking we would come out to see you. She misses the boy.” Even though his tone is arrogant, I don’t miss the fact that he said his wife misses her grandchild, but he doesn’t mention himself.
“Of course, you are always welcome to come to Whispers,” I tell him through gritted teeth. Entertaining them at the ranch for a few days is my idea of hell.
“Great, well, I will organize a few things,” he says, although what he really means is his assistants will organize a trip, and he will tag along purely for his wife. I’m not sure what agreement they have, because as far as I can see, she is well aware of his desire to have other women. I can only assume either it’s a money thing or they are in an open marriage. Either way, it isn’t my business.
“Looking forward to it,” I say, keeping things neutral. He’s not a man who is overly warm at the best of times, so I don’t feel the need to be that way either. I’m about to say goodbye when another thought hits me.
“Actually, before you go, sir?”
“What is it?” he asks, sounding annoyed, like he hasn’t got the time, even though he called me.
“I’m just wondering where you are lecturing these days?” I try to ask casually, like I’m making small talk, which is something we have never done.
“Willowstone. Why?” There’s an edge to his tone I don’t miss, and my eyebrows rise.
I know I shouldn’t ask, but he is a good contact, having been in the education system for years .
“Just wondering who I need to speak to in order to report a crime against a student?” I can call the university directly, but I would rather go through personal channels. Things move quicker that way.
“Pfft. Stop wasting my time. Clearly, you have too much time on your hands these days, Hudson. You need to move back to the city.” His arrogance hits me immediately. That and the fact that he doesn’t answer or acknowledge my question.
I scoff, about to ask another question to get further information, but the call ends without even a goodbye.
The fucker hung up on me.
Rolling my phone in my hand, I think about Lacy. I don’t want to talk about it with her until she is ready, and I don’t want to push her, but the whole thing makes me upset.
It doesn’t take much more spiraling thoughts from me to press my contacts and make the call I’ve been debating.
“Hudson. How’s things?” Sawyer, Tanner’s lawyer from the city, who is often in Whispers, answers almost immediately. His upbeat tone is much more refreshing than the last call.
“Sawyer. I’m doing good. And you?” I ask as I pace again, wondering if I’m doing the right thing.
“Fine. But Tanner has me looking at the contracts for Victoria’s goat milk soap business. Apparently, it has picked up and they are really busy. That and my asshole of a brother is in Capri with that new leading lady of his,” he says, huffing, and I smile. From what I see on social media, my friend is living his best life in the South of France.
“When are you in Whispers next? I need some advice,” I say, taking in a breath. I feel bad for a beat that I am doing this behind Lacy’s back, but it’s just advice. All confidential, and if I can get things ready for when she wants to make a move, it will be all the easier for her.
“I will be there soon, actually. Within the next few weeks.”
Relieved, I nod, even though he can’t see me.
“Great. I would love an hour of your time if you can spare it,” I tell him.
“No problem. I can make it work. Everything okay?” he asks, and I drop my head.
“Hopefully. I just need some advice on a personal matter.” I keep it simple, not wanting to delve into it on the phone.
“Okay, well, I will speak to you then,” he says, and we say our pleasant goodbyes before I end the call.
I look out the window toward my parents’ house, where my son is, wanting to join them but still feeling uneasy. I made Lacy a promise, and for the first time in my life, I’m not sure I can keep it.