Jackson scowled. When Kevin continued to gaze up at him in confusion, he slipped into the chair across from his old friend. “You really don’t know, do you?”
Kevin looked up at the ceiling as if asking for strength before facing him again. “Just spit it out, Jackson. What am I missing?”
Jackson let out a huge sigh. “While I was in the Army, my grandfather died…”
Kevin nodded. “Sorry about that, man. I wasn’t in town, or I’d have gone to the funeral.”
“I wouldn’t have noticed. I was out of the country and didn’t even know until the funeral was over. Anyway, my kid brother, Dylan, went into foster care. When I got back, I immediately tried to get custody, but the state has a very long list of things you have to do first. So I did them. Every. Last. One. Yesterday was my custody hearing. Your dad was the judge.”
Kevin sat straight up. Anger and disbelief warred on his face. “He didn’t.”
“He did.” Jackson surged to his feet, then stalked to the fridge and grabbed a Mountain Dew. He opened it and chugged half the can. Wiping fizz off his mouth, he returned to his seat. “He denied me custody, called me unfit and an adrenaline junkie, then left.”
Jackson didn’t say anything about the changed date. He couldn’t prove that it had been deliberate, and he refused to gossip.
Kevin ran his hands through his shaggy black hair. “Man, I’m sorry. I knew my dad didn’t like you since this happened”—he gestured toward his prosthetic limb—“but this is something else. What can you do?”
“I’ll appeal. I have to wait three months. Who knows how long it will take then?” He finished his drink and tossed the can in the bin. “I thought you’d come to gloat. Thought you hated my guts.”
His former friend winced. “Nah. Oh, I was hot when I lost my leg. I never would have dared to go on an extreme BMX bike trip. Too much adrenaline for me.”
“I still don’t know what happened, Kev. One minute we were laughing, and the next?—”
“The next, I took a tumble and flipped my bike.”
“It’s my fault,” Jackson groaned. “If I hadn’t used a tourniquet, maybe they could have saved your leg. And your football scholarship.”
Kevin had shouted that very remark at him.
“Buddy, if you hadn’t, I might have kept my leg, but they would have buried it with the rest of me. You saved my life.” Kevin shoved his chair back and stood. “I can’t play football, but I did get a job I love. Turns out, I’m a fabulous auto mechanic. My dad isn’t happy, but I am. I really just stopped by because I saw you in town last week and realized I missed you. Thought I’d try to reconnect.”
Out of all the things that could have happened today, Jackson had never seen this one coming. He shot a silent prayer of thanksgiving toward heaven. Only two people had really known him in high school—Kevin and Mia. He’d thought he’d lost them both.
Now, he had just gotten one back. He swallowed the emotion clogging his throat.
The two men talked for another five minutes before Kevin headed back to work. They exchanged numbers and promised to get together soon.
It was a plan Jackson was determined to follow through on.
Before putting his phone away, he checked it. Dylan still hadn’t answered. He tried to look up the kid’s location, but it wasn’t showing up. Was his phone still off? He decided to give Cynthia a call.
He dialed Cynthia’s number. She answered almost immediately.
“Hey, Cynthia. I’m trying to get ahold of Dylan. He’s not answering and not responding to my texts. Is he okay?”
Her sigh came through loud and clear. “He’s not happy, if that’s what you mean. He wouldn’t say much to me. I know it’s hard, but I’d recommend giving him some time. He was very emotional yesterday.”
That wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice. I was hoping to stop by and see him, maybe take him out for a bite to talk.”
“Well, honey, that’s a lovely idea, but he’s not here. Yesterday, he asked to go camping with his friend Reggie. I didn’t argue since it’s been such a hard couple of days. Besides, school will be starting next Wednesday, and he’ll have less time to hang out with his pals.”
Jackson stared at the phone in his hands after she’d disconnected. Nothing was going according to plan. What would happen next?
“Mia, honey, why were you slamming the pots around in the kitchen?”
Mia froze in the middle of stacking plates in the china cabinet and turned to Gus. Her great-aunt sat in her favorite chair, her Bible in her lap, glasses perched on the tip of her nose like a schoolmarm. She looked over those glasses at Mia.
Mia bit her lip to hold in a laugh. That look never failed to amuse her. “Sorry, Gus. I didn’t realize I was making a racket. I’m, ah, irritated with Anne Marie.” Irritated? That was putting it mildly. However, anger tended to upset her aunt. Mia didn’t want her bothered.
