“Hold on, Aspen. Jeez. Papa’s not going anywhere.”
My heart squeezes at his words. I’ve been such a dumbfuck.
Once she’s settled with me and he’s certain I’m not going to drop her, he heads back into the house. “Why’d you knock?”
I glance around, making suresheisn’t here. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s your house. I didn’t want to intrude.”
He spins on me. “Just stop. She’s not here.” He sighs and turns back around shaking his head in frustration. “I don’t know if you’ll ever have to worry about bumping into her here,” he says sadly.
“Oh. Um, did things not go well with your visit?” I ask, scratching my head.
Jackson points to the highchair. “We’re just getting ready to sit down for supper. Do you want some?” he asks, avoiding my question. “Willow left a roast for us in the Crock-Pot.”
I look around. “Is she not here?”
“Naw, she’s up at my mom’s with Grandma. They’re doing a bunch of baking and canning.”
I rub my hand over my chest, noticing he saidmymom’s not just mom like he used to when referring to Rachel. But it makes sense. Jenny isn’t anything to me … other than Jackson’s biological mother. Why does that make me feel sad?
“Oh, so the visit did go well?” I’ll admit I’m a little confused.
He sets a plate on Aspen’s highchair full of carrots and potatoes. She smiles at him, because carrots are her favorite. I’ve never seen a child love vegetables more than her.
“It did,” he says, not taking his focus off his daughter.
Aspen holds a carrot toward me, offering me a bite.
Jackson laughs. “I’m going to get Papa his own.”
He walks away to fill our plates, and I lean over and take a bite, making her squeal in delight. She’s the sweetest child.
The room is quiet as the three of us eat in silence, the only sound the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room.
“I’m sorry,” I say, staring at my plate.
My son reaches across the table and touches my hand. “I know, Dad. It’s okay. You needed a minute. Don’t blame you there. Not at all.”
“You sounded pretty bummed when you mentioned her earlier.” It takes everything in me to look him in the eye.
He leans back in his chair, thinking about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess I thought she’d come back here with me. I really wanted to show her the farm, you know?”
I push a carrot across my plate. “Does she not want to come for a visit?”
“Oh, I think she wants to. It’s that she can’t. She feels safe there.”
“There?”
He stands, going to the fridge to grab us a couple of beers. “Dad, just ask the questions. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but I probably don’t have all the answers. I’ve only been up there a couple of times.”
So that’s what I do, and I hang on to every answer. My stomach aches with the thought that she’s been living in the foothills by herself for such a long time.
“I don’t understand why my moms did what they did, but I’m not going to waste my time agonizing over it. They did what they thought was best, and I’m going to accept that,” he says, holding my gaze. “Yesterday is over … today is a brand new day.”
Aspen pats my arm. “Papa, down.”
I pull my attention from Jackson to help my granddaughter out of her chair. I take her over to the sink and help her wash her hands before setting her down. As soon as she’s on her feet, she hurries out of the kitchen.
Time moves so fast. It seems like it was just yesterday that she needed to be carried everywhere. Now her little feet carry her around all on their own as she explores the world.
