Page 37 of Worth of Waste

“Someone didn’t give me a choice. I’m trying to make the best of what I have—I finally have a reason to do that now, because before, I was just going day to day doing what I had to since I didn’t have a reason not to.”

Karen sighed shakily. “I don’t know who you are, Dino.”

“You do, I just forgot to mention a few things along the way.”

“You think?”

“I never said I was perfect.”

Karen laughed lightly, the sound coming off like tinkling wind chimes. “You know, that’s funny. It’s all in perspective, Dino, and I don’t think you have the right perspective of yourself to be giving that kind of opinion.”

“I know you don’t think I’m perfect.”

He almost wanted to dare her to deny it.

Karen didn’t.

“In Japan, anything broken that can be repaired is often done so with gold. The culture believes that in doing so, it adds a beautiful piece of history to the object’s story. Nothing is ever really broken that way, only more beautiful, with a bit more to tell.”

Dino eyed her from the side. “I’m a man, not an object.”

“The sentiment is the same. It’s all about perspective.”

“I don’t know how to begin to repair all the broken parts of me,” he said quietly.

Karen moved a little closer to him on the bench until they were pressed together and her head was resting on his shoulder. “You started out in the right way—coming here, talking to me, and all of that. This is a good start, Dino.”

“How much longer do I have to go?”

“A ways.”

Dino nodded. “You still didn’t answer my first question.”

“His name?”

“Yeah, that.”

Dino looked out to see the baby had climbed over the side of the sandbox, and was now staring in their direction, his focus stuck firmly on the man at his mother’s side. The baby tipped his head to the side, a familiar brown gaze narrowing as he tugged on his hat and watched Dino a little more.

God, it was like looking into a mirror.

Anyone could just look at that child and know he was Dino’s son.

“Junior for the J. Dino for the D.” Karen smiled, the sight honest and true. “You said I couldn’t give him the names, not that I couldn’t be smart about it. Most people just call him by the name on his birth certificate.”

“JD.”

“But I call him Junior,” Karen continued, “and he answers to both.”

Huh.

Dino’s chest felt a little tighter, and warmer.

“But he has no father on his birth certificate,” she told him, “and his last name matches his mother’s.”

Dino could hear the sadness in Karen’s voice as she admitted those facts. He absolutely understood why she was heartbroken over doing that, but she had to know …

“It’s safer this way,” Dino said. “I’m sorry. Someday—”