Chapter 35
PARKER
Delaney hadn’t texted yet.
She’d be finished with work by now and was likely already at her parents’ where she planned to stay for the weekend. Despite that she was supposed to have called to let me know how the surgery went, so far, nothing.
“Sorry we had to come back,” Beck said, pulling into Heritage Hill. “Friday night in the city would’ve been a good time.”
A few weeks ago? Sure. Tonight all I wanted to do was be with Delaney.
“Hey. You alright? You never did say what happened the other night.”
Ah, fuck it. If there was anyone on the planet less judgmental than Beck, I didn’t know them.
“Her ex texted at lunch one day, saying he was sorry and all that.” We continued to talk as Beck parked and the two of us walked inside.
“Delaney said she should have blocked him but hadn’t.
And would. The other night, he texted again as we were… ah, finishing dinner.”
“What did he say?”
“The usual bullshit. I’m sorry and all that.”
“So she never blocked him?”
We headed inside. There were lights on at the inn, but the house portion was dark. Mason and Pia must have been out. Hanging up our coats and tossing our bags to the side, we headed, as usual, to the kitchen.
“Beer?”
“I have time for one,” Beck said, sitting at the island.
Grabbing us each a bottle, I pulled off the caps and sat across from him.
“No. She never blocked him.”
“Why?”
“Said it wasn’t in her nature. Honestly, I left and never heard her out, so we didn’t talk about it until the next day.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.” I was about to agree, when Beck said, “Actually, come to think of it, you do that with your dad a lot.”
“Yeah because arguing with him is pointless. I’ve never met a man so impervious to advice. From anyone. He’s as thickheaded as they come.”
“Mine would give him a run for his money in that department.” Beck shook his head. “I dunno. Who am I to say anything when it comes to women?”
I didn’t answer.
Beck waited.
“I assumed that was a rhetorical question.”
Swinging down the rest of his beer—Beck was a record-holder among the four of us for quick drinking—he stood up. “It was, I guess. Talk to Mason. Or even Pia. They might be able to help.”
“Thanks.” I laughed. That was useful.
“I do like her, though. Delaney.”
Beck tossed his empty bottle into the recycling bin, slapped my shoulder and said, “Come down to the bar later.”
“I might.”
I do like her, though.
I liked her too. But apparently she didn’t feel the same. I looked at my phone. Still nothing. I tapped a button on my phone and a familiar voice came through. I put her on speaker.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hey, Mom.”
“What’s wrong?”
I smiled. That was so like her. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Calling on a Friday night? Something’s wrong,” she countered.
“Just a thing with a girl I’ve been dating.”
Silence. And then, “I can count on one hand how often you called me for advice about a girl.”
“Not true. We talked about it all the time.”
“In middle school. Maybe high school. But not in a long time.”
“Only because I haven’t had many serious girlfriends since.”
“So it’s serious?” My mother didn’t even bother hiding her surprise or hopefulness.
I told her everything. From the ski weekend up until this past week. Waiting for her response, I felt as stupid as I had admitting to Beck I’d basically lost it over an ex.
“I can see why that upset you,” she said.
“You can?”
“Of course. You went through the wringer with your father. I’m sorry about that.”
Was she kidding me? “Mom, you have nothing to be sorry for. Dad was a complete asshole. Sorry for my French. Why would you apologize for him?”
“I’m not apologizing for him, sweetheart. I’m just sorry it happened and tainted your view of marriage. I know about your pact with the boys.”
I’d been about to take a drink, but at that, my hand froze mid-air.
“Excuse me?”
“Beck told me once. You guys were here, visiting, and I think he had a bit too much to drink that night. I asked if you had any serious girlfriends and he told me about it. I doubt he even remembers. Poor kid was drunk as a skunk.”
I remembered that night, wanting to go back home sooner, knowing my mother would be waiting up for us. It was a year or so after college, and Cole had come too. The four of us together always spelled trouble.
“Mom,” I asked, suspicious. “Did you ask Beck that because he was drunk? Thinking to fish information out of him.”
“Of course I did,” she said unabashedly.
Laughing, I was about to tease her when Mom cut me off.
“Point is, you’d never have taken such a pact if things worked out between your father and me.
But like your friends, it just happens to be a bad example.
There are plenty of good ones too. Look at your Aunt Cathy and Uncle Dave.
Or Mason and Pia. Or your dad and his new wife.
” Mom laughed at her own joke. She really was a piece of work.
“I know,” I said. “And Delaney really is something special. She’s cute and perky, but sexy and smart too. Always has a smile on her face.”
“Sounds like someone I know.”
Me.
We really were good together, Delaney and me.
“I’d love for you to meet her,” I said, answering my own unasked question about the state of our relationship.
“I’d love to meet her too.”
“Oh hey, Mom, speak of the devil. She’s calling now.”
“Go ahead. I’ll talk to you later. And tell the girl you love her. Bye, sweetie.”
As I switched over, it took a second for my mother’s words to sink in.
Tell the girl you love her.
I did. And here I was telling Delaney to live in the present, not the past, or future. Time for me to do the same.
“Parker?”
I could tell immediately something was wrong.
“What is it?”
“Are you back in town?”
She was scaring me. “I am. Delaney? What’s wrong?”
“Good. Can you come to the hospital? We’re in room 2604.”
“Your dad?” I asked. It took me a second to remember he’d had the surgery that morning and that Delaney was fine.
“Yeah. There’s been a complication.”
Fuck. I headed to the door.
“I’m on my way.”