52. Chapter 51
Chapter 51
Hudson
To say my parents were shocked when I showed up on their doorstep with my ex-wife and their granddaughter beaming from ear to ear would be a colossal understatement. After Mom ushered us inside, with a worried look in my direction, both she and Pop offered awkward pleasantries.
Per Paige’s insistence, she and Dad took Tristen out to see the horses. Normally, I wouldn’t force someone to sit through something they had no interest in, but given how Tristen had shown up out of the blue, she could stand out there smelling horseshit for an hour for all I cared.
I’m out on the back deck when Mom appears with two tall glasses of lemonade, she takes the chair opposite me and sets her wide blue eyes on me. “Well, this is a surprise,” she says.
I blow out a breath and shake my head, before taking a long drink of the lemonade. “You have no idea,” I say as I look out over the yard to the firepit, the grouping of Adirondack chairs Hutch made, and the corn hole setup beyond that.
Everything had been perfect all weekend, and I was looking forward to getting home to my wife, when I walked in to not only her but my ex-wife, too. Fuck, what a shit show. Mom won’t pry, she’ll give me space, but from the look on her face, the time for silence is over.
Tristen says she’s back stateside permanently, ready to be a wife to me and a mom to Paige. I don’t know all the details of her sudden change in residence, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too little, way too late. For years, I’d hoped for that life. One where Tristen gave a shit about our marriage and our daughter was enough to make a trip to Timber Forge in the summer or at Christmas.
Regardless of her declaration, I just couldn’t buy it. Her fake smiles and awkward hugs might fool my six-year-old, but I’ve seen enough of her bullshit the last ten years to know it’s all an act. Her coming back here was never about getting me back. She doesn’t give a shit about anyone else unless it serves her.
After a bit of digging, she confessed she’s out of money. The company she was dancing for changed ownership and is going in a different direction, needing to revamp and refresh. In the dance world, that means she’s reached her expiration date. She’s about to be thirty-seven and no company she’s approached wants her.
I’m not trying to be a dick about it, and I feel for her. I really do. I’m not completely heartless when it comes to her. She’s a beautiful dancer, and I’ve never been a fan of society’s fucked-up ageist bullshit, but it is what it is. It’s been a fear of Tristen’s since she gave birth to Paige that she’d be worth less to them because her body isn’t the same. It’s one of the things that made her take off for France in the first place. You can’t be attentive to something that you resent. Even if it is your flesh and blood.
Mom is quiet for a couple of minutes, in that comforting way of hers. “What is she doing here, son?”
I rub a thumb over my jaw before taking another sip of the lemonade. “She’s just here to visit Paige.” I don’t know why I keep the whole truth from her. Maybe I feel like Tristen has humiliated me enough in the last few years.
“She’s not here for you, then?”
I huff a humorless laugh out through my nose. “No.”
“Does that bother you?” she asks.
“Hell no,” I say, and then grimace. “Sorry.” Pop never liked us cursing in front of Mom. But she just watches me, a slight smile playing over her lips.
That smile stays in place and her gaze is soft as she settles back in her chair. This is where Hutch gets his quiet, inquisitive nature. Norah has it, too. It’s annoying when Hutch does it, but less so when Mom does. It’s actually comforting in this instance. She’s making space for me to talk without interfering.
I take a deep breath and let it out. “She hurt Finnley,” I say, then run a hand through my hair before crossing an ankle over my knee.
Mom nods but says nothing.
When I’d walked in to find Tristen standing in the living room with Finn, I’d been in shock and completely livid. My anger at my ex showing up unannounced boiled over onto Finnley. I wanted so badly for her to stay and talk to me, but why should she when I dismissed her so unequivocally in front of Tristen? It wasn’t my intention, but the one fucking person I should have been confident in front of was her . My wife deserved that from me. No, our years of friendship deserved that at a bare fucking minimum, and I blew it.
Admittedly, shit went sideways really fucking fast. That much was evident from the hurt in Finn’s eyes when I sent her upstairs with Paige. It wasn’t meant as a rejection, but in hindsight, I get that it felt like one. I didn’t want Finn or Paige anywhere near my ex-wife, and I panicked. I didn’t need our daughter hearing the hateful shit her mother would likely continue to spew toward my wife, and in the moment, getting Finn and Paige out of the room was my only thought.
With some distance now, I realize I have some serious fucking groveling to do. That is, if Finn will even talk to me.
“I don’t even know what all she said.” I swallow hard and shake my head before meeting my mom’s gaze again. “But it was bad. Finn told her we’re married. Paige heard. I didn’t handle things well. I screwed up. With all of it.”
Her eyes soften as she cocks her head at me with a small, sad smile.
“I wish I could turn back time. I wish we’d just told everyone what we were planning from the beginning. Maybe Paige would have understood, and none of this would have happened,” I say.
“Why didn’t you?” Mom asks.
I sit forward and brace my elbows on my knees. “She worried about what people would think. She says I help her too much. But I don’t understand that. I can’t watch someone I love so much struggle and not help. It’s not who I am.”
“I know it isn’t,” she says gently. “And so does Finnley.”
I draw in a ragged breath, emotion thick in my throat. “According to her, that’s not love, it’s pity.”
“She’s angry,” she states. “And hurt.”
I nod. “I know.”
She levels her warm, blue gaze on me. “So, fix it.”
I sit back with a harsh exhale and shake my head. “I don’t know if I can. She says we’re done.”
Her brows almost touch in the middle when she frowns at me. “Done? What do you mean, ‘done’?”
I shake my head. “She wants us to go back to just being friends.” My voice tries to crack on the last word, but I clear my throat against it.
“Oh, dear,” she says, and this time, her voice has a bit of a wobble to it .
I nod, feeling like I’m living in some cruel, alternate universe, where my ex-wife is living in my parents’ house—albeit, temporarily—and I’m forced to play nice for the sake of my daughter. All the while, the woman I love—my wife—is less than a mile away and won’t even talk to me. Except, it isn’t an alternate universe. It’s my reality.
“I’ll be ok, Mom.” I try to reassure her, but I’m not convinced, and the declaration comes out half-assed at best. I can’t believe how royally fucked this situation is, when a week ago, we were on cloud nine, finally coming out as a couple to all of my siblings. Has it really only been a week since we told them and my parents about us? They’d been so happy for us.
Mom nods and shifts to lean forward in her seat, propping her elbows on the table in front of her. “No, I know you will. It’s just…” she trails off, as if she’s searching for the right thing to say. She tilts her head, a nostalgic gleam in her eye. “You were one of my easiest babies. Have I ever told you that?”
I nod, smiling a bit. “Only about a million times.”
“Well, it’s true. From the time you were tiny, you were sweet. You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve, especially when it comes to Finnley. You’re a lot like your brother in that way. You and Hank, you’re both helpers, so selfless. Always putting others before yourselves.
“And I know you tease and joke a lot, but I think that comes from feeling like you had to be someone you’re not. So, you’d make jokes to deter people from seeing your pain, or what you think certain others might see as failures. But you deserve to be happy, Hudson. To put yourself first sometimes. To know what other people think doesn’t matter to your life or how you live it.”
I swallow and shift in my seat, my throat tight. How is it that she can see into my soul like that? I feel exposed. How can she take one look at me and know what I’m feeling—what I’ve been feeling for my entire life? Maybe it’s not true of all mother’s, but it’s definitely true in the case of mine .
I lift my watery eyes to hers and expel a pent-up breath.
“You asked me once if was proud of you, right after you opened Timber Haus. Do you remember?” she asks.
I nod, knowing exactly what day she’s talking about. I’d been having a hard week with Tristen. That morning, she’d told me all I ever thought about was my damn bar and being in business for myself. She’d said I never paid enough attention to her, and I was a shitty partner. Even though everything I was doing was trying to live up to her expectation of what it meant to be successful.
Mom and Pop were visiting, and Mom had told me she couldn’t have been prouder of me than she was that day when all my hard work had finally come to fruition. She could see me reaping its rewards. It was like Mom could see what Tristen couldn’t. It’s still happening, even now.
“I always have been, son. I was proud of the husband you were to that woman out there—even when she didn’t deserve you. I was proud of how you handled your divorce and selling the bar you worked so hard to build. I’m proud of the father you are, how you put Paige’s needs before your own at every turn. You’ve never spoken a single bad word about Tristen to your daughter. You’ve never kept Paige from her, even when everyone else thought you should have. That’s no small feat.”
She reaches across the table and squeezes my arm. “That’s integrity. That’s character. I know you’ve kept Finnley at arm’s length for years because you were afraid to ruin your friendship, but…” She pauses to look into my eyes.
I see the same mom looking back at me as I did when I was fifteen and in trouble for something. It’s different from what I see in Pop’s. I know he loves me, but the acceptance I see reflected back at me from my mom’s eyes makes my chest grow tight and I have to blink a couple of times to keep her in focus .
“There is no better foundation to start a life together than friendship. There is no greater connection. With Finnley, you know that no matter what, she loves you for you. Not for what you can give her, or because of what she’ll gain from being your friend.”
I nod, knowing she’s right. And her words hit so close to home. This marriage, this arrangement, started with what I could give Finn—insurance to get her insulin—but it was never about that for me. It was always just about her and my love for her. I didn’t want to admit it before, but it’s the truth. I did it to help a friend, sure, but I really did it because it was her. It’s the opposite of what Tristen and I had.
“What I’m trying to say is, lust and attraction are great; fun, even—”
My eyes snap to Mom’s. I let out a chuckle and hold up a hand to stop her. “We’re not about to have the talk, are we? Dad already did that when I was twelve.”
“Oh, you hush,” she says with a smirk, soft folds of skin crinkling around dancing blue eyes. “I’m just saying, I see how you look at one another. She makes you happy. You’re whole when you’re with her. Don’t discount that just because you were friends first. Talk to her. Make her see what she means to you.”
Then, she lets out a weary breath and mischievously rolls her eyes, hitching her head in the direction of the house. “And I’ll take care of you know who. Make sure the queen doesn’t get her clothes dirty or step in cow shit while she’s here. Although...” she trails off, with a tap of her pointer finger to her chin.
I chuckle at the wicked gleam in her eyes and lower my voice conspiratorially. “Who knew you had such a potty mouth.”
“Yeah, and I’ll say it again if you don’t get your head out of your behind,” she says pointedly, pursing her lips. But her expression is both teasing and amused .
With a laugh, I reach over and squeeze her hand before standing up to pull her into a hug. She’s petite, only a couple of inches taller than Finn, and when I wrap my arms around her and lift her off her feet in a bear hug, she laughs against my chest. I set her down and she pulls back, gazing up at me. I feel so much better after talking to her. Not 100 percent confident, but when Finn is ready, I’ll be there to make my case and apologize.
“I love you, son,” she says.
“Thanks, Mom. I love you, too,” I say and then turn to leave. I stop just outside the door when I call out to her. “Oh, and Mom?”
“Yes?” She turns to look at me over her shoulder as she picks up our empty glasses.
A grin cracks my face. “I’m telling Hutch you said he was selfish.”