I feel Ruby’s weight on the mattress as she jumps up and scoots herself close to me before lying down, and when I turn to look over at her, Hudson is standing at the door, a mug in his hand.
“I made you a chamomile tea. It always helps me wind down after a stressful day.” He rounds the bed and sets it down on the oak nightstand next to me. He must havechanged while I was in the tub, because now he’s dressed in a white cotton T-shirt and blue plaid pajama bottoms, and he looks soft, inviting. Like I want to curl up into him.
I prop myself up on a pillow against the headboard, finally taking the time to look around the bedroom, dimly lit by bedside table lamps.
“Thanks,” I answer, picking up the warm mug and taking in the soft scent of chamomile. “You didn’t strike me as a chamomile guy,” I add as I look around the room. There’s a lot about Hudson I would never have guessed.
The decor in Hudson’s place is simple, yet cozy and inviting. He has a lot of natural wood furniture in a mid-century modern style. His apartment is mostly navy blue and a creamy white, and wood finishes. Some of the walls are the original brick and it gives it a rustic, industrial vibe I like. The place suits him, the only part that stands out is how tidy it is.
Tidy is not what I was expecting of Hudson. I never thought of him as being organized, or disciplined, or motivated. He always goofed off, and for most of my life, I liked to goof off with him. Until reality slapped me in the face and I understood graduation meant it was time to grow up.
Apparently, somewhere along the line in the last ten years, Hudson got the memo, too. It makes me have this uncontrollable curiosity and need to know all the ways Hudson has changed. I suddenly want to know everything that has happened to him over the last decade, what experiences shaped him into who he is today.
Hudson sits next to me on the bed, propped up on a pillow against the headboard, too, but leaning on his side so he can look at me.
“The stress of working at the firehall used to get to me. Never knowing when my pager was going to go off, balancing that and my construction job. It was a lot. I finally managed to get on top of it, though. Now I like to have a strict bedtime routine, and the chamomile helps me sleep if I’m worried about the pager going off in the night.”
It hits me that Hudson does manage a lot—a lot more than I ever would have given him credit for. It’s not like I didn’t think he was capable. I knew he could accomplish whatever he set out to do—that wasn’t the problem. I didn’t think he wanted it badly enough.
“You’ve come a long way,” I say, holding my steaming tea in my lap in one hand, the other hand still entwined in Ruby’s fur.
“You say that like I was some delinquent or something.” Hudson lets out a self-deprecating chuckle.
“In my defence, you were voted most likely to end up stripping for money. But it probably had more to do with your physique,” I quip, feeling lighter and lighter as Hudson and I fall back into our usual banter.
“And I’ve been wildly successful. I almost beat Cole at the food bank fundraiser.”
“Not to mention, you won yourself a date.”
“Yeah, Alma really had the hots for me.”
“What a slut,” I say, flashing him a playful smirk. “Hey, speaking of sluts. Where’s Jett?”
“I told him to get lost,” Hudson answers.
“Finally stood up to him, eh?”
“Nah. I lied. He took off back to Banff a fewdays ago. He’s been looking for his own place up there, and something came on the market.”
“Ah.”
I lean back, and a comfortable silence falls between us again, so I sip my tea, enjoying the moment. It feels good to have our old dynamic back a little, to feel like friends again. It makes me feel more like myself, too. The last few years have been nothing but work and climbing the corporate ladder. No room for real enjoyment.
I thought coming back to Heartwood might help me get further ahead in my career. I didn’t think it would make me question why I’ve worked so hard for it in the first place.
“Why didn’t you come with me to university?” I ask. I’m feeling a little braver now. Not brave enough to delve into the ‘why did you dump me and crush my soul’ territory, but this seems like a good enough place to start, unpacking our old baggage.
Hudson shrugs.
“Honestly?” I nod, as if I want any other answer. “We didn’t have enough money. I knew from an early age things weren’t going to be easy for me. Mason had asked Dad for money to help him with med school, and that’s where the cash flow dried up. Sure, Dad was a doctor, but rural doctors don’t make much, and we were always a single-income household anyways. By the time I was supposed to go to university, Jett was into skiing—not a cheap sport, by the way. It’s not like going to university was my dream anyways. I didn’t care—at least, I told myself I didn’t. I was happy to stay here in Heartwood and earn a living with what I had.”
Something heavy lands on my shoulders as I considerwhat it must have been like for Hudson, how different our upbringings were. I’m angry at myself for only realizing this now.
I take in the information I’m learning about Hudson for the first time. We didn’t have deep conversations as teenagers. We were either playing some sort of game, or teasing each other, or making out—once we learned we could. I always assumed Hudson never had the drive or ambition I did.
When I don’t say anything and sip my tea instead, Hudson continues.
“You know, I’m happy with my life.” When I look up at him, he’s peering back, and there’s nothing in his eyes but the truth. “I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. I’m content. Are you content?”
