“Wow, man. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
Didn’t work out.That’s the understatement of the century. I nod shortly, stopping near the bench. I drop down next to him and he moves his arm from the back and leans his elbows on his knees.
“The thing is,” I go on, “it would’ve worked out. But it happened right around the time Gemma got knocked up and ran away with her boyfriend. I was meant to meet Grace at the airport. But I had to be with my sister. I had to be there for my mom and dad, because they were losing their shit. I wasn’t just gonna abandon my family. But when I tried to explain, she threw a damn temper tantrum and hung up on me.”
“Didn’t you contact her after?”
“Cheers, Einstein,” I smirk wolfishly. “'Course I did. I tried, anyway. I rang. I wrote. I made a fool of myself trying to get in touch with her. But she’d never come to the phone.”
“Well, what happened?” Nick asks.
I shake my head. “Mate, it was a fucking mess.”
***
It had taken me some Nancy Drew work of my own to get hold of Grace’s home phone number.
I had already tried her cell several times, I’d sent her emails, I’d tried to contact her on social media, and calling her at home was the last chance I was giving her.
I was starting to get angry with the way she was behaving, even if I loved her.
I loved her so much it hurt.
But she was dead-set on not giving me a chance to explain.
“Hello, Nelson residence, June speaking, how may I help you?”
I smiled at this official way of answering the phone. Grace’s family sounded like good people.
“Hello, Mrs. Nelson,” I said, because using her first name seemed disrespectful. “My name is Harry Hadley. I met your daughter in England last month and I was wondering if I could speak with her.”
“Oh,” she breathed, sounding flustered. I guessed that Grace had told her about me. “Well, I’m not so sure she wants to speak with you, Harry.”
“Mrs.—”
“June, please call me June.”
“Okay,” I muttered. “It’s just, I need to speak with her. I need to explain what’s going on here. Because I think maybe she might be confused, June, and I need to set her right.”
I was getting angry. This wasn’t good. But every time I thought about the way she’d just run off, acting like I was some kind of monster, it drove me nuts.
“So please just go and get her.”
“She’s busy right now,” June said, firmer.
My harsh tone had worked against me.
Fuck.
“Tell her it’s urgent,” I pleaded. “Tell her it’s not how she thinks.”
“Explain, then.”
“Not to you,” I said. “With all due respect, Mrs. … June, I oweheran explanation. What sort of a person would I be if I didn’t tell her myself?”
“I suppose you would be the sort of person to take my daughter’s virginity and then humiliate her afterwards!” June cried, voice suddenly breaking. “Please, Harry, don’t try and take the moral high ground.”
I gritted my teeth.
