"How's the center coming along?" Avery asks.
"We're getting there." I nod to Ed, who's also being roped into helping out with the construction of Jake's Retreat, which is Joel's veteran's center.
My brother-in-law suffered a jaw injury in the same blast that killed Jake, and he still struggles to speak. With the jaunty scar and stony silence, I worried what Sam would think the first time he met Ed. But the boy seems to appreciate Ed's economy with words.
Kindred souls, perhaps.
Now Ed pulls out a shiny gold toy car from his pocket. Sam's gaze snaps to the car. He drops the forkful of pie onto his plate with a loud clatter and slides out of his seat.
Ed holds up the car and raises his eyebrows at Sam, silently offering him the car. Sam snatches it out of his hand and holds it up to catch the light on the metallic surface.
"What do you say?"
"Thank you," Sam mutters.
Teaching the kid manners is a constant battle, but I'm determined he will grow up polite.
"Thank you, Ed," I mouth.
Ed shrugs and smiles. He reaches a hand around Avery's shoulders, and she leans against him. Her hand goes to her belly and rubs it absently. They still haven't officially told anyone she'spregnant, but you'd be a fool not to notice. Her skin's radiant, and I've never seen Ed smile so much. Scrap that. I've never seen him smile at all.
Mom gets up to clear the table, and I motion for her to sit. "I'll do it." She gives me an appreciative smile and sinks back into her chair.
Dad confided that her legs get wobbly some days, but Mom's too stubborn to tell anyone. If we don't forcibly make her rest, then she won't.
"How's work going?" Dad asks as we take the plates into the kitchen.
"Good. I'm digging holes for the fence posts this week." I tell him all about my work at the center with Joel. It's hard labor, but it gives me a paycheck every week. Not that I need it. I saved most of my money when I was in the military. There wasn't much to spend it on apart from my apartment, and even that's almost paid off.
I don't need to work, but I want to provide a good example for Sam. I want him to see that you should work if you can and contribute to society.
Every action I take now I have to look at through a different lens. Am I setting a good example for Sam? What kind of human do I want Sam to grow up to be?
I bring a cloth back from the kitchen to wipe the table down as Dad clears the last of the plates.
"You want a game of checkers?" Avery asks Ed.
He grunts, which I take to mean yes, and they move through to the living room. Mom goes to help Dad finish up in the kitchen, and I'm left with Sam in the dining room.
His gaze keeps returning to the family photographs on the wall.
There are baby photos of us all: me as a tubby toddler with a frown on my face as I glare at baby Jake. There are lots of the two of us boys as little kids. We're dressed up for Halloween in one and hunting with Dad in another. There's a family photo by the waterfall in the mountains. Then Avery makes an appearance. I was ten years old when Avery was born and not interested in babies. But Jake adored his little sister.
Sam gets up from his seat and walks to the wall of photos. His gaze rests on a picture of me and Jake. I must be about eight in the photo, and Jake is around the same age Sam is now. He has the same shaggy mop of blond hair that Sam has. When Dad was deployed, Mom never cut our hair. But as soon as Dad got back, the first thing he did was take us to the barber’s.
This photo is taken on a picnic. Mom's smiling in the picture as Jake snuggles into the side of her. I sit a little away from them, aloof and grumpy, holding a cookie with a bite taken out of it. But it's not me who Sam's looking at.
He raises a hand to the photo then pauses, hesitant.
"Is that Jake?"
It pains me that he uses Jake's first name, but I'm not going to insist he calls him his father.
"Yes." I come to stand behind him. "That's Jake."
I hold my breath. This is the most interested Sam's been in Jake since he came into my care, and I don't want to break the spell.
He doesn't say anything but takes a step back and tilts his head up to look at more photos. The further up the wall, the older we get. His gaze rests on a photo of the two of us on a hunting trip with Dad. We've both got hunting rifles, and I'm proudly holding up a rabbit.
