Page 140 of What About Us
Hudson
To say my parentswere 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 truthfrom 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 washer. 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 likelycontinue 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.”
