Page 125 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Shelly took that moment to come running and fling herself at her big brother and wrap both chubby arms around his neck.

Unprepared, Jet went sprawling back in the grass with a grunt, Shelly on top of him. The dogs also piled on, and it took a moment of wriggling limbs, laughing and yipping to get them all sorted out. Finally Jet pushed himself back upright, shooed the dogs off, and settled Shelly in his lap.

She patted his damp cheek. “Don’t cry, ’kay, J-J?”

Jet nodded, but his smile for her was still pretty watery. “So.” He looked at Myles over her head. “Is that what he wanted, then? To ask to meet me?”

Myles nodded.

“Why?”

“You’re his son?”

“Been his son for sixteen years. Why now? Because of Mom?”

“Partly, I expect.”

“But?”

Myles sighed. There was no easy way to say it. “He’s dying.”

Jet’s expression didn’t change. “Of?”

“No idea.”

“Is it genetic?”

“Jesus.” That thought hadn’t even entered Myles’s head. “Fuck me.” His stomach sank like a rock, making him queasy.

“Swear jar!” Shelly shook a finger at him.

“Sorry, baby. You’re right.” He patted her sun-warm hair, marvelling that she was so very, perfectly herself.

“Then we have to do it,” Jet said. “To find out.” He squared his shoulders. “I want to know.” He slumped. “I suppose if we leave in the next couple of days, we can get back in time for school.” He looked on the verge of real, genuine, painful tears.

“Hey.” Myles patted his knee. “Don’t worry. We will figure this out, like we’ve figured the rest out.”

“Maybe without the yelling,” Jet agreed.

“Without the yelling.” He took stock of his joints. “And only if I can ever get up again.”

This time, when Jet smiled, even though he also sniffled a bit, it was as genuine as the tears had been. “Need a hand?”

“If you clap…”

Shelly did, gleefully, as Jet hauled Myles to his feet.

After that talk, Myles needed to see Steven with a kind of desperation that terrified him. But as much as he needed it, the kids needed his presence more, so he spent the rest of the day fumbling through making potato salad and grilling burgers for their supper, then pretended he didn’t notice when Kreed scraped his burgers off the grill and replaced them with fresh ones that he proceeded to cook to perfection.

Jet had assured him that he, Shelly, and Wyatt were fine up in the attic watching cartoons on his laptop.

Myles tilted his head. “Child-appropriate cartoons, I hope.”

“Did you know Wyatt has never seen The Last Airbender series? Apparently it’s anti-Christian.”

“The hell?”

Jet shrugged. “He’s here now,” he said simply.