I take a deep breath, wanting to be honest with my son. “I’ve always had a crush on him, but like you said, we’ve been through a lot. I’m not sure …” I can’t bring myself to say it, but I don’t know if I’m capable of having a romantic relationship with anyone.
Jackson stares up at the darkening sky for a few minutes before turning his attention back to me. “Will you promise me one thing?”
“Sure.”
“You said you wouldn’t hide from me. Can you promise the same with him?”
I wrap my arms around myself because the thought scares me a little.
“Just be honest with him. Whatever comes of it, you’ll get through it together.” He taps two fingers over my chest. “Keep this thing open, even if it scares you.”
“You’re too wise for your age.”
Raffe steps around the bend, and we both look at him.
“It’s only because I had a good teacher,” he says, staring at his father.
Jackson swipes at his eyes as Raffe approaches. He leans over and gives me a quick peck on the cheek, and then he slips something into my hand. “I need you to have this,” he says.
I look down at the phone in my palm. “Oh, I haven’t had one …”
“Don’t worry. Dad will show you how to use it if you’ve forgotten.”
“How to use what?” Raffe asks, joining us on the porch.
“I got Mom a phone.” He gives me another kiss on the cheek, and then he pats Raffe on the back as he heads down the steps.
“But …”
He holds up his hands as he walks away. “I’m not backing down on this one, Mom. It’s for your own safety. I need you to be able to reach me twenty-four-seven.”
Raffe chuckles. “That’s my boy.” He tosses a thumb out toward our departing son. “He’s a true Skull through and through,” he says proudly. “We protect what’s ours.”
Jackson looks back and gives us one last wave goodbye, and then we’re alone.
The wind picks up, and my wind chimes break the silence between us.
“How have you survived up here?” he asks, taking my hand and walking me around the corner of the house.
“In what way do you mean?”
He gently pushes me forward, insisting I lead him around my sanctuary. I stumble, my heart picking up a beat at his composure. It unsettles me.
“I guess in the physical sense,” he answers, bumping into me when I stop abruptly.
“Oh sorry,” I say, gently toeing the big orange lump on the path, trying to get him to please step aside. “This roadblock is Garfield.”
“You’ve got a cat?” he asks, squatting down to pet him.
“More like the cat has me. He’s been here almost as long as I have.”
Garfield winds himself around Raffe’s legs, ensuring his scent is successfully left behind. He’s effectively claiming Raffe as his own. It makes me smile, and I don’t really know why.
My cat rolls over onto his back in front of him. Are you kidding me? He never lets me rub his belly. Garfield stretches leisurely, clearly enjoying the attention he’s getting.
My stomach tightens as I watch Raffe’s long, ringed fingers run over my cat’s fur. I turn away from them and continue down the path.
I don’t know why I feel guilty over my reaction to Raffe. I mean, just look at him. He’s perfect. A woman would have to be dead to not be affected by him. I glance over my shoulder … and … he’s right behind me.
