My heart stalls at the sound of her name. “Yeah, they’ve been really busy at the shop. Business is good.”
“That’s good to hear. I need to call and make an appointment for a trim.”
“I’m sure either would work you in.”
“Are there any special ladies in your life besides the Burke twins?” she asks.
“What?” I choke on my drink of sweet tea. “What do you mean other than the Burke twins?”
“I just know that those two are important to you. I thought maybe one day we might get to meet someone else who’s important to you. You know I want grandkids.” She gives me a pointed look before handing me a bowl of mashed potatoes to take to the dining room table.
“Mom, I’m twenty-three.”
“And I was twenty-four when we had you.”
“Things are different.”
“I don’t know, Son. I think it’s still done the same.” Dad chuckles.
“Rick!” Mom mock scolds him. There’s laughter in her voice, so it holds no merit.
“I’m just saying.” Dad raises his hands in surrender after setting the pan of meatloaf in the middle of the table.
“I’ll be sure to let you know when there is someone.”
“What’s going on?” Mom asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your mother, Hudson. I know when something’s bothering you. What’s going on?”
“I’m almost twenty-four. I have my dream home that I’ve busted my ass to build on my own. I love working with the fam and the feed mill. On the outside, it appears that all is well, but then you tell me you want grandkids, and I’m reminded that I have yet to meet someone I want to spend my life with.” That’s not entirely true. I’ve met her. She just doesn’t want me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pressure you like that. I was only teasing.”
“No. It’s fine. It’s not you. I look at you and Dad, and you met so young and fell in love, and here you are all those years later still as in love as you were then.”
“Your mother and I met during our tour with the Peace Corps. It was different for us. There were no electronics, social media, or movie theaters. Nothing to keep us entertained while we were there. Still, in many places, the Peace Corps services those things still don’t exist. We had to actually talk and get to know one another on a deeper level. You kids these days have too many distractions and outlying sources to interfere.”
“So you’re saying I should sign up for the Peace Corps?” I ask.
“Not unless you want to. You know we can handle things here while you’re gone. It might be good for you to get away and find yourself,” Dad suggests.
“That’s a two-year commitment.”
“Finding yourself takes time,” Mom replies.
“I can’t leave this place that long. My house, the mill, I want to be here. I want to take over when you decide to retire,” I tell my dad.
“I know you do, and that’s still the plan. I’m not planning on giving it all up anytime soon. If this is something that you want to do, now would be the time to do it.”
“Hudson, we love you, and we just want you to be happy. Now, you are the only one who can decide what that looks like. In the meantime, let’s eat.” Mom begins to dish food out onto her plate, and Dad and I follow suit.
I’ve never thought about getting away. Partly because I have no idea where I would go. Two years is a long commitment to be gone, and I’m pretty certain that’s not something that I want. However, a little reprieve from Riley might be nice just until I can decide how to handle things between us. How am I going to see her every day and not think about kissing her? How am I not going to think about how she brushed me off?
Why are women so complicated?
An hour later, my belly’s full, and I’m pulling back into my driveway only to find Clayton sitting on my front porch with a small cooler sitting at his feet.
“Did I forget you were stopping by?” I ask.
“No. But I’m leaving for a while, a long while, and I wanted a beer with my best friend.”
“We’re having a party next weekend.”
“I know, but this is just for us.” He points at the cooler, and I help myself to a cold beer, taking the rocking chair next to his.
“You could have come to Mom and Dad’s for dinner. You could have saved me the ‘when are you going to give me grandkids, and maybe you should get away and find yourself’ speech.”
“The grandkids I’ve heard before, the other, the getting away, that’s new.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “It is.”
“Tell me more.”
“They met in the Peace Corps. Mom thinks maybe getting away from all the distractions of life and social media will help me find myself or, hell, even my future wife.”