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“… in prison?” she’s asking. “Dear God. What did he do?”
“Nothing that bad, but the DA ended up throwing the book at him and charging him with a felony.”
“What did he do?”
“Boy was charged with disorderly conduct. Drunk in a public place, shouting at passersby, you know… the works. It shouldn’t have been so bad, but this isn’t his first rodeo, and the judge doesn’t like him.”
“I bet his father didn’t even blink when he was sentenced.”
“Jasper?” The old man cackles. “He doesn’t give a damn about Ross, and you know it, girl.”
Ross.
I step closer, and Octavia turns around with a start. “Ready to head back to the house?”
“Sure. Matt, this is Hugh Price, owner of the hardware store downtown. Hugh, this is my husband, Matt Hansen.”
We shake hands. I sort of remember the guy, now that she mentions it.
“Back in town?” he asks in his gravelly voice.
“Just for a few days. Helping out a friend. Evan Morales. He had an accident, broke his arm.”
“Oh yeah, heard about that. Good man, Evan. Putting up with that pain in the butt crack, Jasper Jones, for years. Guy’s a saint.”
Octavia’s cheeks redden. I doubt Hugh is aware that Jasper is her father.
“We should get going,” I s
ay, putting my arm around her shoulders and pulling her to me. “Nice meeting you, sir.”
He nods as I steer Octavia away.
“My father is a monster,” she whispers, miserable as I help her into the truck. “And I hate that you have to help me up every time, and it’s going to get even more difficult in the next few months, and I just…”
She’s about to cry. I see the wetness in her eyes.
“I love helping you up into the fucking truck,” I inform her, leaning in to kiss the salt from her lashes. “And up the fucking stairs, and later up from the fucking chairs, and in every single thing you need, because I fucking love you, and our baby. Is that clear?”
She nods, the tears spilling out.
“And your father is a monster, so it has to be a miracle, because he produced the best girl ever, the most beautiful, intelligent woman, and I’m so damn lucky to have met you.”
She puts her arms around my neck, and I hold her, burying my face in the sweetness of her neck. God, I’d do anything for this girl. Anything at all.
I just wish it involved punching the crap out of her father. I’d be so damn glad to oblige. Knocking him out cold would be a bonus.
* * *
Octavia is quiet as we arrive back at Evan’s house and take everything inside. Melissa hovers as we put the food away and then shows us where the birdcages and the terrarium are. She giggles as the birds flutter around, and Octavia smiles, too, the sparkle returning to her eyes.
If the damn birds can make my girl smile, then maybe they aren’t that bad, after all.
She gets Melissa to help her cook, and I prepare to help. I’m decent at chopping up things, even if my cooking sucks, and I’d be happy for something to do, to get on with what this trip is all about.
But they shoo me out of the kitchen. I stand right outside, at a loss. Now what?
Sitting idle is the worst idea ever. It starts all the panicky thoughts going in circles once more, and I have to stop myself from pulling out my phone and calling home to make sure the kids are okay. I could call my mom, ask if the school called about anything. I could call Mary on her cell phone.
