Jo’s face still looks doubtful, but she nods anyway and we sit, letting the unseasonably warm night air rustle the trees around us. After all these years of wanting things I never thought I’d have, lo and behold, I’m a father. Absolutely clueless how to take on this role, but a father, nonetheless.
Silence settles between us, heavy with everything I’ve missed. Thirteen birthdays. Thirteen Christmas mornings. You’d think there’d be some kind of instinct—a tug in the chest, a shift in the universe—when someone with your very DNA comes into the world. Something that would’ve alerted me to go looking for her. Instead, I sit blindsided with years of catching up to do.
“And what about Jay? Who’s his dad?” I ask, breaking the silence.
Jo huffs a sardonic laugh. “Not even worth the oxygen it would take to explain. I’d give anything if he was poof”—she snaps her fingers—“gone.”
Damn. She’s raised two kids on her own. I have so many more questions about our daughter, Jay, and their lives here.
“And what’s our daughter’s full name?”
Jo’s smile is tender when she peers up at me. “Abigail Nicole Thomas.”
I nod, testing the name for myself. “Abigail Nicole Thomas. It’s beautiful,” I say. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”
Later, I’m in the kitchen helping Jo pack up her dishes and overhear Jay chattering away to his very distracted mom, tapping her on the arm over and over and over again.
“Mom. Mom. Mother.”
Jo finally snaps, realizing he’s trying to get her attention. “What Jay, what?”
Undeterred by her tone, Jay keeps talking. “Austin and that other man, Mr. Kent, said it’s gonna be warm tomorrow. Can Tyler come play basketball with me? He said he used to play.”
Her eyes cut to mine, questioning, then back to him. “Jaybird. I’m sure Tyler has lots of things to do tomorrow.”
Jay looks over at me. “Tyler, do you have things to do tomorrow?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. While I know nothing about a teenage girl, maybe I can handle a kid who loves basketball.
“Actually, my day is completely empty.”
Jay’s face splits into a grin so big I can see where he’s missing a couple of teeth, and his head whips up to his mom.
“Mom, he said his day is empty.”
“I heard him, Jay.” Jo raises an eyebrow at me, smirking with a look that saysI see what you’re doing, but there’s warmth behind it when she turns back to her son.
“Tyler can shoot hoops with you.”
Jay’s face lights up as Jo lifts a finger. “But Jaybird. Tyler’s a busy man. You can’t rope him into playing ball every day. Understood?”
“Yep.”
Jo’s eyes go wide, and Jay corrects himself. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How about after lunch?” I offer.
“Yes!” Jay punches the air and heads out to the car, with Abby trailing behind him.
Standing in place, I watch Abby head outside, still stunned I’m a father to that kid. Jo must sense where my mind is, because she hangs back while the kids hop in the car.
Feeling her eyes on me, I pull my focus away from the kids to look at Jo.
“She looks so much like you, Tyler. I’ve got a feeling she acts like you, too.” Jo looks at me, her face is lit up with the first full smile so far, and damn if it isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all night. She does so much for so many, her kids, her friends, her students. When we were in the living room I even overheard snippets of something about her grandmother. So who is taking care of her?
“Would it be weird if I hugged you?” I ask.
Jo tilts her head, chewing the corner of her lip. “Only if we make it weird.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “But I think I’d like a hug.”
