Rip - Becoming Whole

Misconstructions

A bit of a longer chapter this time. Hope youz don't mind.😊 

Chrissy saw them first. "Oh look. I think they finally figured out that they should be friends!" she laughed, as she directed Rip's gaze towards his uncle's parked truck on the sidewalk in front of their school gate. Mr Dutton was sitting behind the steering wheel of his truck, with his arm hanging loosely out of the window, looking up onto her dad in front of him, who was leaning sideways against the vehicle, talking in on him.

Rip frowned. "What on earth could they possibly be talking about? Does he look cross to you?" he asked his girlfriend. Chrissy laughed again, "which one. They always look equally miserable?"

"Well, for your sake I hope they are not exchanging notes!" Rip smirked. They both knew that despite her father' stern ways, Mr Dutton was the stricter of the two, in fact Chrissy's father seemed to have lost that battle a long time ago. She laughed and he fought the urge to kiss her right there in front of her father but thought better of it, wishing he could be as unconcerned about his uncle's moods as Chrissy was about her father's.

"Right, Patrick. You want me to give her lift to that party then?" Mr Dutton asked Chrissy's father as soon as Rip and Chrissy were in earshot.

"Nah, you're good. We are in my mother's in the morning and we'll go straight from there after lunch, but thanks for the offer John!"

Rip had been right. Chrissy was okay with him not going to the party once he had explained his cousins had organised a fishing trip for the same day. She'd given out to him a little for not having asked earlier but now that there were other plans she perfectly understood, not least because she knew that since Jacob had moved out, Rip and he had grown somewhat apart, as she saw it. But having heard Mr Dutton talk to her dad, Chrissy squeezed his hands in excitement and a hopeful smile hushed over both their faces. She gave Rip a quick kiss on the cheek when her dad turned to walk towards their truck and wasn't looking, and then took off after him, slipping her hand so easily into her old man's when she caught up with him.

Rip frowned. He could see Mr Dutton looking after them as well. He could see he wasn't happy. Rip was wondering if it was just Chrissy's father that put him into that sort of a mood or if it had anything to do with having to let him go to the party, for he was certain that he somehow felt pressured into it. As much as he wanted to go, he actually shared this reservation about the party somewhat, or maybe he was more concerned about letting Jacob down, but he wasn't going to tell his uncle that.

They hardly spoke on the way home. Mr Dutton made his usual enquiries and Rip gave him the usual non-revealing replies. "She read it!" was all he said and shrugged his shoulders when his uncle asked how the notes were received by his teachers. The history teacher, he told him, hadn't been in, so that note was still in his bag, but he hadn't been concerned about him anyway.

"Rip, go straight in and do your homework!" Mr Dutton instructed him without an explanation, when they arrived back at the ranch.

"What about Frank?" Rip asked.

"Yeah well. I talked to him. We both agree, it's better that way. There's only two weeks left. You can make up for lost time in the summer. There is no rush," he simply replied and then walked off towards the stables without looking at him.

'He's in a mood,' Rip thought. He couldn't be certain but imagined it was something he'd done.

Inside Rip found a business card under the plate with his sandwich that Bernard had left him as usual. Rip picked it up and looked at it. The card was old and tattered. It looked as if someone had been carrying it around in their back pocket for years. It was pretty plain. A name with lots of letters behind it that didn't mean anything to Rip. Below that the title, 'Individual, Group and Family Psychotherapy Services', and below that an address and a phone number, but no email. The address indicated the therapist was a local, but he never heard of them. He turned it over. "When you're ready, Rip!" was all that Bernard had written on the back of it. Rip bit his lips and considered whether he wanted to just leave it there or throw it out, but then ended up putting it into his back pocket all the same.