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“Yet you kept going. What was your plan?”
He shrugs. “IDK. I’m just…tired of everything.”
“Troubles have a nasty way of following when you run, Jacob. And right now, you’ve got to keep your head screwed on. You have others to think about, and you’ve got to get your girlfriend out of the emotional meat grinder she’s landed in the middle of.”
He droops his thick noggin against the headrest. “You’re right.”
“Your mom’s been through enough, too. Don’t add to her troubles.”
“I never meant to.” He closes his eyes and shuts me out. Fine, I’ve said my piece.
Suddenly, they flare open and pin me. “Wait. You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?”
He sizes me up—rightly, I believe. “About my dad.” He shakes his head, immediately grimacing. “My biological father.”
I take a deep breath, hopefully subtly. Have to say, I really didn’t think he’d askmeabout this.
“I can see you do. Don’t deny it.”
I tap the wheel. “I’m not denying it.”
His eyes round—so not as certain as he made out. “What did she tell you?” His entire body goes on edge. His voice cracks.
I didn’t have to walk through his particular valley to feel his pain.
I steal a glance at his blond hair and brown eyes, features unlike his mother’s. What does he see now when he combs his hair in the morning? My personal portfolio of mistakes make looking at the man in the mirror difficult some days—I can’t imagine Jacob’s lot.
“Tell me what she said!” The poor kid is a tightly-wound coil of angst and dread.
“That’s a question for your mother.”
“It’s the least you can do,” he spits.
Right when I start to warm up to the kid. I can’t fathom what he thinks I owe him. “Oh, really?” I lean my left elbow and angle into the door’s armrest. “You know, I respected your wishes when you asked me not to tell your mom about the baby, even though it’s something she deserved to know. So, if you think I’m going to violate your mother’s privacy because you can’t man up and talk to her about things yourself, you don’t have a very good read on who I am.”
Jacob deflates. “I can’t talk to her about stuff like that.”
Sure enough, he’s in a tough spot.
Road noise provides us with thinking music for a minute. I’ve told him before that facing problems is part of what makes a man, but truthfully, if I had a second wish for that magic wand, right after erasing Hollie’s pain, I’d wipe away her son’s. Man, no kid should enter life with this particular monkey on his back.
“Jacob.” The tone I finally locate isn’t one that comes naturally. Maybe that’s what draws his head around. “No, it won’t be a comfortable conversation, but it is one the two of you need to have. You can do it. And then you can move on with your life.”
I can only imagine the pain that creates the desolate set of his jaw. “I’m not so sure.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy, but you’ll get through this.”
He looks over, as if pleading for a sliver of hope.
“All of it.”
And, if he’ll let me—if Hollie allows me to stay in their world—I’ll do anything I can to help.
Hollie
My own poor behavior is coming back to haunt me by means of an awkward, multi-hour car ride with a girl I’ve resented for the entirety of her relationship with my son. Without a doubt, my feelings have been obvious.
