She has the nerve to look concerned. “What does that mean?”
“It means, he’s not staying with Alice. He’s moving in with me.”
“And I don’t get a say? He’s my son, too, John.”
“Are you pretending to care?”
“I’m not a monster,” she sniffs. “I don’t mind if he lives with you full-time, but I like visiting him every week.”
“I have no problem with you visiting him.”
“You’re not going back to California?”
Her question makes me hesitate, wondering how much she knows or how much she’s been able to put together. “I’m going back tonight.”
“It’s out of the question. You’re not taking my son to California.” Her eyes flash, and she steps forward. “Are you even supposed to be here?”
“No, but I’m working on it.”
She hesitates, realizing she has an advantage. “What would happen if I picked up this phone and called the parole board right now?”
Anger flares in my chest, and I step forward, looking down my nose at her. “If you do that, you’d better pray they put me away for life.”
Her defiance holds a moment before she backs down, scampering from the room. “I’m going to speak to your father about this.”
“She’s not calling anyone.” My father’s voice fills the room.
Becky makes a surprised noise and stops. I’m momentarily taken aback, but I can only hope what I said put a crack in the stone where his heart should be. “Thanks.”
Becky pipes up from beside him. “Don’t ever threaten my family again, John Roth.”
I’m annoyed at her using my given name like she’s my mother, but my father puts his hand over hers. “Do what you need to do, son.”
Glancing at the clock, I’m out of time. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ve added your name to the prayer chain, John.” GA’s hand is in the crook of my arm as we walk slowly towards airport security. I’m still amazed I got a one-way ticket for less than a hundred dollars. “We’ve faced worse orgies than this, and the Lord answers prayer.”
“Ogres, Gran.” Scout’s voice is low, and he glances over his shoulder around the small space. “The word is ogres.”
She frowns at him. “That’s what I said. We’ve prayed against worse orgies than the California judicial system. God will provide.”
My brother gives up trying to correct her. “What orgies have you prayed against worse than this?”
“Don’t be rude, Bradley,” GA scolds. “Regina’s cousin Gwen had a spot on her lung last year, and Regina put her on the prayer chain. When Gwen went for her follow-up appointment, the doctors couldn’t believe it. The spot was gone.”
Scout makes a skeptical face.
“Don’t you question the power of prayer, Bradley Scout!”
He throws up his hands. “I’m not questioning. Y’all pray.”
Their banter does little to ease the ache in my chest.
Jesse is on my hip. His arms are around my neck, and his head hasn’t left my shoulder. I’ve waited as long as I could to go through security. Now I have to leave.
“But you just got home.” His little-boy voice is at my ear.
Hugging him tighter, I rub his back. “I know. I wish I could stay.”
“Last time you were gone a long, long time.”
“This won’t be like last time.”
“Come to me now, Jesse.” GA puts her hands on his waist, but his arms tighten around my neck.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Bending my knees, I set him on his feet, holding him in front of me so we can make eye contact. “I have to fix something. They made a mistake last time. It’s why I was gone so long. Now I’ve got to fix it so we never have to worry about it again.”
“I can help!” His eyes light. “Mr. Perkins says I’m a good helper. I’ll go with you.”
My throat aches, and my stomach is in knots. “I wish you could, little man. You’ve got school.”
A crystal tear appears on his bottom lash. “Don’t go, Dad.”
Closing my eyes, I hug him. I knew this would be hard, but our last separation is still so heavy, it’s almost unbearable.
Thickness is in my throat, and I clear it away. “Can you be brave for me?”
“I don’t know.”
I cup the back of his head, kissing him right on top. “Uncle Scout’s going to stay with you until I come back. Or until you can come to me. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, buddy.” My brother squats beside me. “It’s going to be great. We’ll play football. I’ll show you how to skateboard. How does that sound?”
Jesse’s eyes are red-rimmed and watery, and he looks at me with so much trust. “You’ll be back soon?”
Nodding, I blink away the mist in my eyes. “Soon.”
“You won’t even notice he’s gone.” Scout gives him that grin everybody loves.
“I’ll notice.”
Reaching out, I pull him close for one last hug, closing my eyes so I can memorize the feel of his sturdy, little body, so different from last time. “I love you, Jesse.”
His arms tighten around me once more. “I love you, Dad.”
I hold him until I can’t anymore, then I reluctantly let him go, standing to hug my grandmother. “Thanks for this. For everything.”
“Don’t you worry, John Roth. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s going to be better than fine. You’ll see.”
“I’ll take care of him.” Scout hugs me roughly. “Get back here as soon as you can.”
I don’t attempt to speak. I hold my son’s hand one last time before turning to head to the gate.
Hope
“He just let you go?” Yarnell smooths my hair back from my face.
My head is in my bestie’s lap, where I’m camped out on her sofa. “More like he didn’t try to stop me.”
Or take me with him.
Tears were in my eyes as I pulled away from Fireside, leaving JR standing there, his lips a warm memory on my fingertips.
Tears streamed down my face as I drove as hard as I could to Half Moon Bay, stopping only for gas and to crash at motels along the way. I was through Atlanta when I found an envelope with five hundred dollars in cash tucked inside my coat and a note from JR. Pay me back when you can.
It made me start crying all over again.
I cried the whole way home. I wasn’t sobbing, but the tears wouldn’t stop streaming from my eyes. I couldn’t stop seeing his face when he looked at me and asked me how long I’d wait.
Now I’m utterly exhausted. “He was so cryptic. He didn’t tell me anything, only that he wouldn’t lie to me.”
She exhales deeply. “What are you going to do?”
I’ve thought about that question over the past three days. “Check on Dad. Try to get a job. Get on with my life.”
Inhale, exhale.
Take one step, then the next.
Keep walking until the pain is a ghost in the rearview mirror.