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Jeb looked out at the water and the people frolicking on the beach. He kept scratching Vito behind the ears. “Okay.”
To me, those carefree folks on the beach and in the water seemed as though they were in another world. They might as well have been a million miles away or figures in some travel video.
“What can I tell you?” Jeb asked.
I looked closely at him. I could see that he could certainlybeJeb, all grown up. The same eyes, the same slender, wiry build. And yet there was something off. I just didn’t have the intuitive feeling that this man was indeed him.
“For starters, maybe you can clue me in on why you lied about your parents.” I told him how I’d spoken to my mother and what she’d said about the fate of Jeb’s mother and father. “Your dad didn’t pass away from lung cancer and your mom couldn’t have rejected you when you ‘returned.’” I put air quotes around the word returned. “Mom says they both died in a fire years ago, together. And this wasbeforeyou said you came back to them.”
He stared down at the asphalt of the path for a long time. When he looked up, his eyes glistened with tears. Even with all the weirdness of this, I felt a twinge of guilt.
“I was ashamed. They didn’t just die in a fire. They were two of the biggest cooks for meth in the county. Their trailer blew up when they got careless. It’s an old story, a tragic one, but also embarrassing and pathetic.” He sighed and pressed a hand to first one eye and then the other. “It’s not easy to admit your parents were meth heads, worse, that they cooked it and sold it. Who knows how many lives they ruined?”
I had no answer for him. I wasn’t all that relieved. The story he’d given me was better, but not by much. But still, I supposed itwaspossible shame played a part in his feelings. I knew about having shame regarding a parent. I adored Trudy and appreciated the sacrifice and hard work she’d put into keeping a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back. But she’d been a promiscuous teenager when she’d had me, and I wasn’t exactly proud of the fact. Sometimes, I lied about her age to acquaintances, making her older. I had, on a few occasions, even fabricated a dad who’d died heroically in his work as a police officer.
Well now, maybe I did understand, a bit, Jeb’s reluctance to tell me the truth. Still, a lie is a lie. One falsehood could color every statement that came after.
“Do you get it?”
“I guess.” I sighed and wished I had run away from him. But here we were, and this was my chance. And speaking of running away, I followed up with my next question. “I’m also wondering why you ran out the last time we saw each other. You didn’t have to. I don’t get why you’d make the time to look me up, meet me, get inside my condo, and then just slip out when I wasn’t looking. It was very weird.” I forced him to meet my gaze. “And suspicious.”
“I don’t know. I acted on impulse. See, Sammy, I wanted time to really talk to you, tell you my story, and I was freaked out when you said your husband was on his way up. I didn’t wanttwopeople looking at me the way you were. So I left. I’m sorry. I should have said something, and I know it looks bizarre. But you have to understand, as nervous as I know you were at me appearing out of nowhere, I was even more scared. I had to psyche myself up to come to you. I didn’t know how to do it. And when I was confronted with having to talk to two people when I really needed to connect with only one, I just panicked.” He grinned, but it was a sad expression in spite of itself. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you. I should have handled it better and differently.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t. Will you give me another chance?”
The question caught me short. I didn’t know. Besides, I had one more question of my own, so I ignored his and asked, “Why did you wait so long to find me?”
It was weird that at just that moment a huge bank of clouds rolled over the sun, darkening the day and making it cooler.
Jeb appeared at a loss.
I went on, “It’d been so many years, decades really. You said you were back in St. Clair fifteen years ago, at least. Why no visit in all that time? Why now?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. Vito hopped down from the bench when he saw a squirrel on the grass. The dog, at least, was ready to go. And so was I. The feeling returned that this was a con man. I didn’t know what he hoped to get from me, as I certainly didn’t have money to spare, but this still felt all wrong. I was about ready to say so when he started talking again.
“You’re not easy to find.”
“What?”
“As far as I could tell, you have no presence online. No Facebook, no Twitter, no Insta or Pinterest, not even a LinkedIn. You’re truly off the radar. I thought maybe you were the one who’d died.”
He had a point. I’d had a MySpace page once, many years ago, and had a bad experience with a stalkerish type. I just hadn’t wanted to open the door to that again. So I never jumped on the bandwagon when it seemed like everyone else in the world was doing so. “Yeah, I’m not online. But surely, there are public records you could have accessed. My phone number’s never been unlisted. I pay property taxes on our condo, so there’d be a record of me online with my address.” I shook my head. “Nice try, but I don’t buy it.” I shook my head again. “No. I can’t do it.”
I stood to leave. This was simply wrong. I still understood none of it, but it was time to put a stop to whatever the hell was going on. I longed for the comfort of my sanctuary, of Marc’s arms, of pot roast, beer bread, and a Netflix movie watched cuddled up on the couch.
Even if this really was Jeb, and everything he said was the truth, what point was there in reconnectingnow? I wasn’t looking for a new love, a friend, an acquaintance, or anything along those lines. People change over the course of more than a quarter of a century. What could we possibly have in common today?
He peered up, not moving. “It’s all true, Sammy.”
I started to move away. Even Vito had had enough—he tugged at the leash, pulling me.
Jeb didn’t get up. He called, “Isn’t there something I can do to change your mind?” There was a pause. “I’ve thought about you all my life, ever since that night.” He burst into tears, his breath morphing into hiccupping sobs. “Ever since he took me. Let me tell you about that.”
I turned. “No. I can’t. I just can’t, Jeb, or whoever you are. I’m sorry if something bad happened to you all those years ago. If you really are, Jeb, I don’t know how to make things right for you. I have a life, a husband, a job, and years of failures and triumphs you know nothing about. The same is true for you. It’s too late.”
With that, I turned and walked away.
I had to admit, though, a part of me wished he’d run after me.
But he didn’t.
