Never Time to Say Goodbye

Chapter 3

Well that was... tragically insightful.

I'm sorry that I grilled your mom to find out what you wrote in your diary without your permission. Normally I'd try to shift the blame away from me and point out that technically your mom is the main culprit here, but instead I acknowledge that I've broken your trust, and I apologize for that Judy.

I wish you had invited me to go with you to visit Bunnyburrow like you wanted to, but I probably would have been too afraid to go. I can say that I'd go now if you asked, so I guess that's progress?

I'm sorry that I didn't get the note you left to call you, and even more sorry I didn't just call you anyway, but I'm also sorry in advance for the murder I'll probably commit when I find out who didn't give me the note you stuck on the case files that they took off my desk.

I hope we can talk about whatever happened between you and... what was his name... Irvin? Your mom was a bit vague with the details, but my understanding was that copious amounts of carrot wine were consumed by everyone involved. In addition, with all of the unresolved issues between us, plus the confusion caused by us not talking things over on the phone, plus the large side order of guilt from your parents, I can see why the situation is... complicated. Whatever happened, Judy, it doesn't change how I feel about you. I just need to know if it changes how you feel about us.

I better wrap this up, because your mom will be back from feeding Little Carrots soon. She threw a fit the first time I called the baby that, but I'm sure I'll wear her down eventually. Calling her Baby J is just too weird.

She's growing so fast, and should be out of the ICU soon. Believe it or not, I've gotten pretty good at feeding her, though I have to practically wrestle her away from your mom to get a turn.

You gotta wake up and meet your daughter. She needs a name and... I need you.

Nick and Mrs. Hopps glared at each other across Judy's bed.

"You can't take Judy's baby back to Bunnyburrow." Nick leaned forward slightly, causing Mrs. Hopps to flinch and involuntarily take a step back. "She belongs here, with Judy."

Mrs. Hopps crossed her arms. "Nick, be reasonable. This is no place to raise a baby. She gets out of the ICU tomorrow, and the doctor said she's ready to go home. If Judy gets better..."

Nick cut her off coldly. "When. When Judy gets better."

Mrs. Hopps nodded. "When she gets better, what then? I've been staying in her apartment... that's no place for an infant. And Judy is going to need care too when she gets out of the hospital. Care that she can only get at home, with her family."

Well, that conversation with your mom could have gone better. She did finally agree that we could talk about it more tomorrow, though I don't see her changing her mind. I certainly see where your stubbornness comes from now.

I've got to go take care of something I've been putting off for awhile, but I'll be back to talk to you soon.

Nick stared at the front door of his mom's house, a key clutched tightly in his right paw. He sighed deeply before he stepped forward and unlocked the door.

He paused in the open doorway and took his sunglasses off, hanging them on his shirt pocket as he peered down the dark hallway. He walked slowly, reverently, as he touched things: a picture of him when he was five, his mom's gray knit sweater hanging on a hook, a scratched wooden bench next to the kitchen doorway where, until he was a teenager, he'd proudly stood every birthday so his mom could mark his height.