I simply nodded and let Butch guide me over to some seats in the almost empty waiting room.
“Now, let’s get us some hot cocoa.”
I moved to object, but he held a finger up to stop me.
“Don’t even try to tell me you’re too good for hospital cocoa. I was in here last year with a hernia, and this stuff is the only thing that kept me going. Well, that and the company of Ms. Terrance over there.” He nodded in the direction of the receptionist behind the desk, who rolled her eyes but also blushed with a smile.
I shook my head and chuckled. These Moore men, if they could bottle their charm, they’d be millionaires.
Butch soon returned with a couple of steaming hot styrofoam cups. I placed mine on the floor to let it cool while Butch took a long sip of his, smacking his lips in satisfaction when he was done.
“That’s the stuff. Now, what’s going on with you?”
“It’s nothing. It’s just... my love life is complicated at the moment.”
Butch nodded. “Muriel?”
I blinked in surprise. “Well, yeah. How did you know?”
“I was just talking to Cameron. Do you seriously think he’d keep something like that to himself? He’s been giddy about the idea of Muriel moving back since the day she left.”
I grabbed my cocoa and took a slurp. It was still too hot, but I needed a pause to process what I was hearing. “So... you know, then?”
“Know what?” Butch said innocently.
“Don’t mess with me.” I waggled my finger at him in a mock-scold. “Do you know what I think you know? The thing most parents don’t know about their children?”
“That y’all have shared girlfriends before? Sure, I know. He tells me everything.”
“Oh.”
“Yup. I got to hear all about Hannah; boy, she was a piece of work.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, not our finest hour.”
“Muriel’s different, isn’t she? You two were always crazy about her from the first day you met.”
“She’s different all right.”
We sat in silence for a minute, drinking our cocoa and watching the hospital staff go about their work.
“I think I’ve fucked it up, Butch. Excuse my language.”
“You’re excused. You’re a grown man now.” Butch chuckled. “And I’m sure you haven’t fucked it up.”
I wasn’t ready to laugh about the situation. I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands until I felt Butch’s hand press comfortingly on my back.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
We got up and headed out of the hospital.
It was the first time I’d taken fresh air into my lungs in hours. I breathed deeply a few times, savoring the calming sensation and enjoying the slight coolness in the early morning air.
We sauntered down a couple of blocks before we spoke again.
“So, you were saying you’ve messed things up with Muriel. I don’t think you have, you know.”
“I said her job was less noble than toilet-cleaning,” I said dejectedly, embarrassed by my actions but determined not to pretend I was any better a person than I was.
“Ah. Well, that wasn’t clever, was it?”
“Nope. And I don’t even believe it. I don’t love her job, but I don’t have to—just like she doesn’t love the minutia of local politics. I like her passion, no matter what it’s for.”
That, and she’d seemed really interested in starting to use her profile to highlight good causes. I’d hoped to help her with it, and we’d work together on campaigns. But even if she did nothing but advertise lip-gloss for the rest of her life, I’d still love her with every beat of my heart.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Butch asked, and I eyed him suspiciously.
“You already know plenty of pretty personal stuff about me, it turns out, so yeah, why not.”
“Do you think you wanted to torpedo this relationship, deep down?”
“Um, nope,” I said, suddenly doubting my decision to confide in Butch. Why the hell would I sabotage the best thing that ever happened to me? “That makes literally no sense, I’m afraid.”
A group of women walked toward us, obviously heading back from a night out at a club. They were singing and dancing down the street, and we had to dodge out of their way to avoid getting dragged into their little street party. One of them dropped a plastic cup, and I stopped to pick it up, dropping it in the trash can nearby.
“You’re a good man. But seriously. I’m no psychologist, so this is only a hunch here, but by any chance, could you have been hoping the relationship would fail so you wouldn’t have to... I don’t know... face telling your mother about it?”
Before I objected, he quickly added, “Subconsciously, I mean. Deep down. I mean, you did compare her life’s work to toilet maintenance.”
“I accused her of preferring Cameron, too,” I groaned. This time, Butch didn’t say anything, he just pulled an expression that was a combination of sympathy and cringe.