Page 19 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
“No more of that,” I said firmly. “It’s water under the bridge.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m really glad we could connect again,” I added. “Because I really did miss our friendship.”
“Me too. So, how was your trip back?”
We shot the shit for a bit, fumbling our way through conversation like a couple of guys searching for an old rapport. We were a little rusty, but we got there in the end, laughing about our work problems and our aging bodies.
“You stay fit,” Matthew said, “unlike me.”
“The job helps.”
“College dean doesn’t exactly build muscle, unless patience counts.”
I laughed. “I’m sure.”
“Of course, it’s my own damn son who requires the most patience. Some days, I’m not sure where I went wrong.”
My forehead creased. I knew I shouldn’t ask, but the question was out before I could stop myself. “What do you mean?”
Shit. Abort. Abort. Do NOT talk about Cooper with him.
“He just has no direction,” Matthew said. “Parties, skipping classes, changing his major three times. Nothing seems to get through to him. He just hasn’t been the same since Sam…”
“You think he’s upset about the divorce?”
“No, I…I don’t know. I mean, of course he was upset, but it’s been years now. I’m grasping at straws.” He snorted. “I should ask you to talk to him. You guys used to have such a great connection, and God knows we’re like oil and water lately.”
“Probably not the best idea,” I said, laughing even as alarm made my heart skip. “We’re all just getting to know one another again.”
“Oh, I know,” he agreed readily. “You’re right. I’m just kidding. Sort of.” He chuckled and then sighed.
“Have you ever asked him what he really wants out of life? Without judgment?”
“Yes!” he said immediately. Then paused. “I think so?”
“Well, I can’t say what Cooper wants or needs, but I did get the feeling that you two don’t communicate the best. Try again, maybe. Really listen, without trying to influence what he wants with whatyouwant.”
“Easier said than done. No parent wants their kid wasting time being aimless and irresponsible.”
I snorted. “Yeah, that’s not judgmental at all.”
He groaned. “Okay, I’ll try. Again. But if it all goes to hell, I’m giving himyournumber.”
I laughed nervously, even though it was clearly an empty threat. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
The idea of Cooper calling me was terrifying—and also 100 percent appealing. But I could hardly tell Matthew that, so I changed the subject, eager for the comfort of small talk.
6
COOPER
Ibumped into Dad at the rec center while stopping to grab a quick lunch. The food court there served everything from subs and salads to burritos and pizza.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” I joked. With both of us living on campus, we couldn’t help but cross paths now and then. Dad’s house—the dean’s cottage, it was called—was in the far reaches of the campus. Far enough from student life he could have some peace and quiet while remaining conveniently close to the admin buildings.
He glanced down at the gaudy Apple Watch on his wrist. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
