Page 65 of Now That We Don't Talk

A deep chuckle comes from the doorway. “Not a chance, kid,” Dad says as he steps into the living room, arms crossed, a smug grin on his face. “I finally broke it in just the way I like it.”

I laugh, already knowing how he’d answer. “Yeah, I figured.”

Instead of kicking me out of his chair, he sits on the couch, stretching his arm across the back of it. My dad hasalways been one of my heroes. He was the one encouraging me to keep pursuing my hockey goals.

“How are you this morning?” he asks casually.

I glance at my phone on the armrest, as if staring at it will magically make a text appear. It feels strange wondering if Kyle will even reply.

“Just enjoying being here,” I say honestly, leaning back in his chair. “And waiting for Kyle to text me back.”

Dad raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask any questions. He nods, knowing my mom’s superpower will kick in and she’ll start grilling me for the details.

A few minutes later, my mom joins us in the living room, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. She settles onto the couch beside my dad, and he immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders. It’s funny how they both seemed to forget the argument they were just having over his driving skills.

She takes a sip of her coffee before looking over at me. “Did you say you were waiting for Kyle? Do you have plans with him today?”

I let out a sigh and shake my head. “No. He’s not exactly thrilled with me right now.”

Mom gives me a concerned look. “Why? Did something happen?”

Shifting in my dad’s chair, I cross my arms over my chest, making myself more comfortable. Maybe discussing this with my parents will be helpful.

“We had a disagreement about me going out with Vivian,” I admit. My mom’s expression shifts from concern to curiosity. “He thinks my intentions aren’t sincere.”

My mom frowns, no doubt the wheels turning in her head. “Wait. I thought you were going out with Addi’s friend. How did Vivian come into the picture?”

I sigh and stare at the ceiling. I’m still trying to make sense of it all myself.

“I had dinner with Vivi last night,” I say finally. “We’ve been…talking since I got back.”

Mom’s eyebrows lift slightly, and she mutters, “Huh. Okay…”

I recognize that reaction immediately—it's the same one I’ve been getting from everyone who hears about this unexpected development.

She pauses for a moment then carefully chooses her words. “Vivian has always been nice. You two just never really connected … until now.”

I appreciate her tact, but we both know there’s more to it than that. The truth is, Vivian and I existed in separate orbits for years. We barely acknowledged each other’s presence, and neither of us seemed to mind. We weren’t just acquaintances—we were practically strangers, even though we shared our best friends. And yet, somehow, here we are now rewriting history.

“I’m starting to think I really messed up. How did I never notice her? She’s gorgeous and funny and very smart. There’s something very wrong with me.”

My parents exchange a questioning look, their silent communication speaking volumes. After a brief pause, my mom sits up, leaning toward me.

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” she insists, her voice gentle yet firm. “Sometimes, life takes us down unexpected paths, ones we don’t always understand in the moment. Maybe you and Vivian were meant to go in separate directions for a while—not because either of you did anything wrong but because you needed time to grow, to learn, to experience things on your own. Life has an interesting way of teaching us lessons,even when we don’t realize we need them. Maybe this journey apart was necessary for you to find your way to each other—stronger and wiser. The best partners truly appreciate and understand each other—and in the end it’s about the timing.

Well, my mother’s monologue just opened a whole new way of thinking about this situation. It’s like she knew exactly what to say to give me clarity. That’s what I’ve been needing. I’m even more convinced it’s a superpower.

“Thanks. I really needed to hear that.” I exhale, feeling a weight lift from my chest. “I know I haven’t always shown it, but I appreciate you both more than you know.”

My parents exchange a glance—the kind only parents can exchange. I’ve seen it before.

“We know, kid,” Dad says, his voice steady like he’s trying to sidestep an emotional moment.

“We love you so much,” Mom chimes in, and before I can react, she’s on her feet, wrapping me in a tight hug.

I return the embrace. “Love you too.”

She pulls back and looks at me. “You should invite Vivian over for dinner.”

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