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“Jack Crosby.” Repeating the name made him almost sick to his stomach. “You named me after him, damn it!”
She nodded miserably. “At the time it seemed like a way of defying him. Of disputing that horrible letter and proclaiming that you were his son, despite anything he claimed. Carl suggested I might want to give you another name, to spare me the pain and you the embarrassment when the truth came out, but I wouldn’t listen. I was still so angry.”
“You must have hated him. And me.”
“I didn’t hate you,” she protested instantly. And then she gave a little cry and added, “Or maybe I did. I was such an emotional mess then that I didn’t know what I felt. Carl helped me get past that anger and I fell in love with you even as I grew to love him. I adore you, Jackson. And so does your dad. Surely you can’t doubt that now.”
No wonder Carl had always called him Jay. Or son or buddy or pal—anything but his real name. He pressed a hand to his stomach, suddenly afraid he was going to vomit right on his mother’s spotless carpet.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, turning on one heel toward the door. “I need to…”
What? What could he do to make this any better? “I need to think,” he finished, moving in long, urgent strides. “I’ll talk to you later.”
His mother didn’t try to stop him. As he let himself out the front door, he thought he heard soft sobs coming from behind him. He didn’t pause long enough to find out for certain.
It was almost ten o’clock Saturday evening when Laurel called her in-laws’ number. She was relieved when Carl, rather than Donna, answered.
“Carl, it’s Laurel. Is Jackson there?”
“No, he’s not here. I— We were hoping he’d gone home.”
“I haven’t heard from him since he called early this afternoon and told me he was stopping by your house. I’ve tried calling his cell phone, but apparently he’s got it turned off.”
“He left here quite awhile ago. Maybe he went to the job site or something.”
He sounded as doubtful as she was about that possibility. Something told her there was more to Jackson’s absence than work. After all, he had told her that he was finished at the site for the day and would be coming home after his visit with his parents. He had planned to spend some time with Tyler before bedtime.
Tyler had been asleep for more than an hour now. Surely Jackson would have called if he had simply changed his mind.
“Carl, did something happen there to upset him?” she asked, trying to phrase her words carefully. “When he left, did he seem okay?”
“I, er, wasn’t here when Jay left. He’d been talking with his mother.”
Laurel’s hand tightened around the telephone receiver. “Did she say anything about where he was going when he left?”
“No. But, Laurel, he was upset.”
“How upset?”
“Very.”
She moistened her lips. “Can you tell me why?”
“I’d better leave that to Jay or Donna. I’m sure he just needs some time alone to think about some things, you know?”
“I’m worried about him, Carl. It’s not like him just to disappear this way. Not when he isn’t working, anyway.”
“He’ll show up.” Carl was obviously trying to reassure himself as well as her. “Just give him some time.”
As she hung up the phone, Laurel wondered just how much time she was supposed to give him. All night? All weekend?
She thought about calling a couple of his friends, but she suspected the calls would be fruitless. She doubted that Jackson had left his mother’s house in turmoil only to go shoot pool or play a game of pick-up basketball with his pals.
She paced. Just what had Donna told him? Had Laurel been right about her initial guess that he’d been adopted? She knew that wasn’t easy news for an adult to hear. Family secrets were almost impossible to keep forever, and in her experience, the sooner they were out in the open the better.
It that was it, maybe she could help him deal with it. It was what she did for a living, right? She could assure him that the adoptive parents she worked with loved their children every bit as much as those who had conceived biologically.
Of course, she wouldn’t be able to help him if he didn’t first admit that he needed help. There was little she could do if he went all quiet and macho on her—which he seemed to be doing even now—hiding his feelings, insisting he could deal with everything on his own, sublimating his own insecurities by being even more determined to be the strong man in charge of his household.
