Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,40
to be with I wanted to cry when I had to leave.
If I’m honest, duh, this is what I hoped would happen.
I hoped Luke’s mom and dad would care about me enough to get in touch. I never expected some kind of family outing.
Dr. Franklin keeps telling me I need to be careful what I wish for. I think he may be right.
Tug
Dad drove. It was okay because their Tahoe was roomier and more comfortable than my car. Mom packed a picnic and brought a stack of old quilts because of course she did. I made sure we had chairs because even though my parents are fit, sitting on the ground to watch an entire movie seemed like a pretty good way to irritate Mom’s sciatic nerve.
“We’ll take our cues from you and Tug, honey. Just give us a sign if we say something uncool.” They’d called Echo but were still planning to treat Tug with care until they got to know him again.
“You’ll be fine,” I said from the back seat. I might have already opened a bag of corn chips.
“There’s bean dip,” said Mom.
“Don’t tell him that. There won’t be any left if he opens that can.”
“Contrary to popular belief,” I lectured, “your youngest child is capable of delayed gratification.
Mom snorted. “Sure. That’s why you’re already eating the chips.
“I was hungry.” I took another handful. “I worked all day.”
“Any good stories?”
“Oh, yeah. Someone returned five books on decluttering your house today.”
“And?” Mom flipped down the visor so she could see me in the mirror.
“They were all two years overdue.”
Mom laughed. I’m not sure it struck Dad as funny.
“We got a new dad in the store today. He brought his one-month-old baby. So cute.”
Mom lives for babies.
“Speaking of, tonight it’s a kids’ movie,” I said.
“That’s fine.” Dad asked, “Which one?”
“Up, I think.”
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” Dad’s hands clenched on the steering wheel.
Mom turned to him. “It’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “You should have told us that before.”
“How come?”
“It’s fine, honey.” Mom reached over and patted Dad’s shoulder. “We’ve seen it already is all. Your dad had a little bit of a meltdown the first time.”
This was news to me. “What do you mean by meltdown?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. There’s this montage in the beginning, and—”
“You call that nothing?” Dad asked. “Ten minutes into the film, Pixar took my heart and smashed it into smithereens, and you call that—”
“Spoiler alert.” She glared at him.
“Might as well go see Toy Story 3.” He turned to her. “Or the goddamn Brave Little Toaster.”
“Honey.”
“Might as well go see A Walk to Remember. Or hey, why not just screen My Girl and Brokeback Mountain back to back.”
“Uh, nope. Ixnay on that cowboy flick we don’t ever talk about,” I said.
They argued about movies all the way to the park. I managed to save some chips for others.
When we got there, we had to park down the street and walk the rest of the way. My parents are old hands at family outings. They brought their fat-wheeled wooden wagon, so I dragged our stuff along behind me while they skipped ahead like kids.
I didn’t think finding the group from Hope House would be that easy, and I scanned the throngs of families with kids for any sign of Tug. Pretty soon I realized I only had to look for the knot of people with the most uncomfortable body language because, yep, there they were.
Tug sat stiffly at one of the picnic tables, talking with two other men. In their vicinity, there were two more men I’d have pegged as belonging to their group, even if I hadn’t seen them at family group. They all either had the look of deer in headlights or they smiled too hard as if they were balanced on a board, atop a ball, waiting to get their equilibrium.
“Hey, Tug,” I called. His head whipped around. “You remember my parents?”
Before he could answer, Mom sat beside him and wrapped him in a hug.
“Hello, stranger.” She backed off and caught his face between her hands. “Let me get a good look at you. It’s been years.”
Tug pressed his lips together.
“You’re all grown-up.” She sighed. “Can’t get over it.”
Standing behind mom, Dad held out his hand. “Great to see you, son.”
Tug looked bemused, but he reached out and they shook. He had to turn and untangle his legs from the bench before he stood.
“Good to see you too.” He wrapped his arms awkwardly around his middle. “How’s the shop?”