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Hannah
I knew Cash wanted answers, but he wasn’t the only one. The audacity to act as though he didn’t know. Meanwhile, my poor son was caught in the middle. Well, no way would Jimmy be in our cross fire. After Cash left, Jimmy knew something was off. He was a perceptive kid. No one knew me the way he did and vice versa. My excuse? That I’d been caught off guard.
Thankfully Jimmy had never got ahold of my parents. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking when I told him to call his grandparents. If they heard Cash was in my house, recovering aunt or not, they’d be on the first plane home.
There was one person who knew the entire story and who could help me, so I called her.
“Hey, Hannah.”
“Hi, Mia. I need your advice. It’s about Cash. We’re meeting at his house to talk about Jimmy. What the hell am I going to do? I’m sweating ... again. Seriously, what am I going to do?”
“First, try to calm down. Second, you tell him the truth. That he’s an asshole for ignoring you. And that his father is a major douchebag.”
“You’re so ineloquent for an English teacher.”
Her laugh calmed me. “Right now, I’m your best friend who would love to give him a piece of my mind myself. In fact, if you want me to come with you, I will.”
“I love you for wanting to, but I need to do this on my own.”
“Okay, but just send out the Mia signal if you need me, and I’ll be there in a hot second. Remember,youdid nothing wrong.”
“Okay, you’re right. Thank you. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Rather than walk through the neighboring yards, I hopped in my car and took a very short ride to the house Cash had rented. If Blossom Berry Falls wasn’t tiny, I’d think he planned his location. Not that he knew I’d moved into my grandmother’s house.
After pulling into the driveway, I stared at the weathered home. It had seen better days. The previous owner, Mr. MacMillan, had passed away last year. Neither of his kids wanted it, so they were preparing it for sale. Except by the looks of it, they were not getting very far. Aside from having the lawn mowed every week, nothing else had been done.
“You can do this, Hannah,” I uttered. Taking a cleansing breath, I got out of my car and headed to the front door, which opened before I could knock. Cash gave me a weak smile. Why? Why couldn’t he have aged like a couple of the other guys I saw at the game? Something told me that if he had a bit of a beer gut and receding hairline, I’d feel a bit stronger in my resolve not to fall prey to his charm.
But as my luck would have it, he was the complete opposite. Even in worn jeans and a T-shirt, he could have graced the cover ofGorgeous Man Magazine. It was as though when Cash was born, God said, “I’ll give this child looks, brains, and talent.” Too bad the Big Guy forgot to give him a conscience.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Cash.”
He stepped aside, and I did my best not to brush up against him as I passed through the doorway. As soon as the door closed, I wished we were at my house. Home-field advantage and all that. The only reason I agreed to come here was so I could leave when I wanted. Having Cash in my home a couple of hours ago had stressed me out.
Everything about this situation felt off. The way he studied Jimmy blanketed me with immense guilt, and I did not deserve to feel that way.None of this was my fault,I said to myself.
“You look great, Hannah. The past fifteen years have been good to you.”
“Thank you.” Was I supposed to say the same to him? Our eyes met, and rather than prolong the inevitable, I started our conversation: “This situation—”
“Is fucked up.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“At least we can agree on that.”
“I was going to saydelicate.”
“That too.”
He smiled, and I immediately wanted to tell him not to. I told myself to not look affected by him. To stand my ground. This wasn’t about me or even us. It was about Jimmy. For the first time in Jimmy’s life, I didn’t know how my son would feel about his mother keeping such an important secret. That thought sobered any spell Cash could cast on me. Anxiousness gnawed at every part of my being. Not because Cash didn’t know Jimmy, but for not figuring out a way to tell my son. I could easily rationalize the whys and hows of the situation, except I knew that no matter what I did or said, he’d feel hurt and betrayed. As his mother, the only thing I wanted was for him to be happy.
“Can I get you something to drink? I didn’t know if you preferred wine, beer, or something else. I grabbed a bit of everything. Iced tea?”
