“You don’t have a house?”
“I do, but it’s empty and cold. I have a room at the warehouse. It’s where I’ve lived the past two years.”
“This isn’t going to be easy for me, Raffe. I don’t think you’ve thought this through. I don’t think any of us have thought this through.”
“Shhh, go to sleep,” he says. “You worry too much.”
His fingers trail over my eyes, forcing them to close.
“I’m going to be there with you every step of the way. I’ll hold your hand twenty-four-seven if I have to, but we’ll get through ittogether.”
“The holding hands part doesn’t sound so bad,” I admit without opening my eyes.
He laughs quietly, careful not to wake our granddaughter. He starts to hum softly, and everything seems to break away thought by thought.
Just as I’m about to drift off, he whispers, “You’re right where you belong.”
My head wants to argue, my heart wants to cry, but my soul simply agrees.
Sometime in the night, I wake up feeling like I can’t breathe. I quietly pad through the kitchen with bare feet and open the back door. Jackson is sitting on the steps, having a cigarette.
“Do you mind if I join you?” I ask.
He smiles wide and turns to me. “If you don’t mind my bad habit,” he says.
I carefully close the screen door and sit down beside him.
“I saw Grandpa’s cello in the corner of the living room. Did you ever get to hear him play?” I ask.
“All the time. He even taught me.”
My brows jump in surprise. “Really. Do you enjoy playing?”
“I do. For a long time it was the only thing that quieted, or at the very least, slowed my mind.”
The crickets chirp and an occasional frog croaks in the distance as I take a walk down memory lane, recalling my father playing for me when I was a kid. “He tried to teach me too, but I was never very good at it. I don’t have a musical bone in my body, but I loved listening to him play.”
“He was a quiet guy,” Jackson remembers fondly.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sometimes it’s hard for me to accept the consequences of my actions. “I was a terrible daughter to him,” I admit, thinking of all the times I disobeyed him. “Thank you for being kind to him and Grandma.”
“I heard you crying earlier,” he says, completely changing the subject.
“Oh, I was …”
Jackson stops me. “I know this isn’t easy, Mom. You don’t have to pretend to be okay for my benefit. I'm strong enough to handle your feelings.”
He’s right. He’s not a child, and I promised him that I would never hide from him again. “I’m terrified. I have nothing to fall back on if this doesn’t work out.”
He drapes his arm around me. “It’s going to work out. The club doesn’t let anyone fail. It’s the best thing about being in the Skulls. You always have someone to help you fight your battles. It might take a little time to earn everyone’s trust, but I promise if you’ll just be yourself, everything will fall into place.”
“Daddy,” Aspen says from behind us.
He drops the cigarette and stomps it out before going to the door and opening it. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I want Mommy,” she says sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
“Okay, I’ll take you to Mommy.” He turns to me.
