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Then Pop said, “Yeah, we’re good,” and groaned his way back to his feet. “I’m gonna see if Dex wants help gettin’ the meat on the grill.”
He kissed Mom on the lips, squeezed her shoulder, and walked away. Ripper watched him go, then settled his head on Jay’s leg again.
Mom sat in the spot Pop had vacated. “You okay, hon?”
Jay nodded. And then—oh fuck oh no please—he started to cry.
Mom pulled him into a hug. A lifetime of memories swirled in his head of his mother’s often wry but always gentle love. Jay pressed his face to her throat and let the tears happen until they were done. At least he wasn’t sobbing, wasn’t making a scene.
His mother didn’t try to talk or lecture or fix anything. She simply held him, stroking his hair. And in that way she fixed enough.
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~oOo~
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There were more normalways to do this. He could have asked Apollo or Jazz to track down her number. He could have called the bar. He could go in through the front door right now. But those all felt ... okay,scarierthan he could deal with. This way, if she thought he was an asshole no longer worth her time, he wouldn’t need to hear her say it or see the look on her face that said it just as clearly.
Yeah, apparently he was a pussy little scaredy-cat.
Instead of doing it the normal way, he was doing it the creepy stalker way. He unfolded the paper and read it one more time:
Hi
I’m sorry. Call me if you want. 539-555-5734.
J.
He’d written it about ten times over, trying to get the wording right and make it as neat as he could. His first drafts were long, trying to explain why he’d left, but those had seemed whiny and pathetic, and exposed him way too much, especially if she ignored this gesture.
The few words on this page were the best he could do. He folded it again and slid it under the wiper of Petra’s Volvo, with a single calla lily from his mother’s garden.
With his old man’s furious words from earlier in the day running on a loop in his head, Jay walked away from the back lot of Gertrude’s, mounted his bike, and headed home.
One strategic risk taken.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hi.
I’m sorry. Call me if you want. 539-555-5734
J.
