Page 11 of All the Ugly Things
“No, not him. You know siblings can’t be replaced.”
I had never wanted to punch anyone more in that moment than I wanted to knock my dad out. It was such a visceral reaction, so overwhelming, sonormalwhen it came to Melissa being brought up, I shoved away from my desk and went to the windows. The sun was shining on the water, there were dozens of pedestrians walking and biking across the river’s glass-bottom bridge. Many looked to be getting exercise. Most looked to be headed to work. A few medical professionals in scrubs walked along, sipping coffee, weary and haggard looking from the messy hair and dropped shoulders, as if just getting off the night shift.
“Hudson.”
I put my back to the window and crossed my arms. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
He grinned at me from his spot in the chair, still sprawled like he didn’t have a damn thing to do that day. “Yep. Your mom used to tell me that all the time.”
“Liar. She called you a dick.”
“I was that too sometimes. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Can’t you find something better to do, like hanging at the country club all day?”
“Course is closing soon for the winter.”
“Then go find a vacation home in Arizona for the winter.”
“Hate the dry heat.”
“Dad—” He was impossible.
“Go talk to her. If you can walk away from her then I won’t ask you again.”
He stood from the chair, pushing off both armrests and groaning as he did. Probably faking his knee and joint pain to get sympathy.
It worked. When it came to my dad or my family, I was the ultimate sucker. “One visit.”
“And you have to be nice.”
“Goddamn you.” I pushed off the windows to walk toward him.
He met me halfway and slapped his hand behind my neck, pulling our heads together. He was an inch shorter than me, thinner, but we still had the same facial features, the same eyes. Looking at my dad was seeing myself in thirty years.
“You’ll see. And I won’t even tell you I told you so.”
“Yes, you will.”
His lips twitched, fighting a grin. “Love you, Hudson, you’re the best damn son I’ve ever met.”
He let me go then, headed out of my office and closed the door on his way out.
He left me reeling.
Irritated. Emotional. Sad. Grateful.
Because I’d had him as a dad, and there were millions of people who couldn’t say that and be proud of it. Like her.
“Shit,” I grumbled and scrubbed my face with my palms.
I’d go see her.
I’d even try to be nice about it.
4
Lilly
