“Blaine was there when I called this morning. I expected him to be gone. When she told him she was coming over to watch Gus, he pretty much said, ‘You can’t. You know your aunt isn’t of your social status. We can’t be seen hanging around with her.’ Blah, blah, blah. That kind of thing. And my mom realized there was nothing in her marriage she wanted to keep. So she just walked out.”
Jackson’s hands clenched the wheel. “Did he say anything?”
Mia sniffed. “He told her, ‘If you leave, I’ll change the locks. You won’t be able to get inside to get all your belongings, and don’t bother coming back.’ He had no clue she’d already packed everything she wanted. So after he left, she got in the car and drove here. She kept her wedding band and said she plans to sell it. So now she’s staying at Gus’s house too.”
He shook his head. “How do feel about this? You never got along. Now she’ll be living in the same house.”
“I don’t know. It’s only been half an hour. I’m sure we’ll drive each other crazy. But at the same time, I’m glad she woke up and figured out what was going on. I’ve never met a more toxic person than Blaine Turner.”
Jackson had to agree. “You really don’t think of him as your father, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s kind of sad,” he said.
“It is.”
“I was eight when my dad died. I can barely remember his voice, but I knew he loved me.” Jackson cleared his throat.
“I’m so sorry.”
He reached over and took her hand. Holding on to it felt natural. “I think the hardest part for me was that my mother…I told you about our history. I always knew that, to her, I was more of a burden. I think that’s why I tried so hard to be what she wanted.”
“You said she remarried when you were eleven?”
“Yes. I was in fifth grade. It was the best. My stepfather was an amazing man. He loved being a father. When Dylan was born—when I was thirteen—my stepdad would take us places and tell people ‘These are my boys.’ It was never ‘This is my son and this is my stepson.’ I can’t tell you how much it meant to have a family again. But then six months later, he was gone.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.”
He sighed. “Thanks. My mom made it very clear that if she hadn’t had Dylan and me, she could have done anything she wanted. I spent so many years trying to make up for my dad, and then my stepfather, not being there. Anytime anyone asked me to do something, I was there. Sometimes, I exhausted myself because I tried so hard. It was never enough though.”
He turned into the hospital parking lot.
She squeezed his hand. “You are enough, Jackson,” she told him softly. “I’ve seen the way you care for your brother and your patients. And when we were going out, nothing made my day like seeing your smile. Don’t ever believe the lies that woman told you.”
Jackson squeezed her hand before leaving the cab of the truck. He couldn’t speak. Her words had filled a place in him he hadn’t even realized was hollow.
Mia had never thought of herself as a violent person, but if Jackson’s mother suddenly appeared right in front of her, she knew she would have trouble not smacking that woman right in the jaw.
To do that to your own children—not only abandon them but verbally abuse them and make them feel like a burden. What kind of mother would do that? For the first time in her life, Mia felt like her own mother might’ve actually been better than someone else’s.
She didn’t know why, but she had always assumed Jackson was an orphan and that was why he’d been raised by his grandfather. She hadn’t realized it was his step-grandfather. She hadn’t really known him when they were kids. They’d thought they were in love, but both of them had kept so much of themselves from each other.
That wasn’t the way to form a strong relationship. Something she was determined to change in the future.
They stopped at security in the hospital. The security guard handed them a bin. “Put your purse and anything in your pockets in this.” She dropped her purse in, then placed her inhaler beside it and stepped through the security arch. “You’re clear.”
She gathered her possessions while Jackson repeated the process.
“We need to take the elevator to the second floor.” Jackson hit the up arrow. When they arrived on the floor, they walked without talking past the nurses’ station. Three nurses and an intern conferenced, holding clipboards in their hands. Mia expected one of them to ask her and Jackson what their business was. No one did.
Reggie’s room was four doors past the station.
Jackson knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “That’s Mark’s voice.”
