My son. I’d do anything for this child. Despite the resentment when year over year, I never heard a peep from his birth father, including a bounce-back message, I persisted in trying to contact Jennings to let him know he had a son. Shoving that thought aside, I give Kevin’s hand a firm squeeze for the millionth time since we got the knock on the door telling us about the accident.
He nods. “I need to be away from everything back there. Everywhere I go, I’m reminded of what happened. I don’t know why, but somehow I think I feel close to them because this is something they would do.”
You have no idea. The thought passes through my mind as my eyes collide with Maris’s as I shoot her a sidelong glance. “You’re right, Kevin. It is something they’d do,” I reassure him.
Something infinitesimally wound up behind Kevin’s green eyes relaxes. “So, what’s there to eat at the house? Airplane food sucks.”
Maris jumps into our conversation at this point. “Honey, you know it’s late. So, when we get back to the house, I think a light snack is in order—”
Kevin groans. I just smile, waiting.
Maris continues. “— because tomorrow we’re going to have the best lobster chowder anywhere in the world. Tomorrow. Tonight, it’s close to midnight our time, which is 4:00 a.m. for your body. Too late for anything heavy. You and your mom must be exhausted.”
Kevin perks up. “Are we having lobster to go with it?”
I rebuke him gently. “Did Maris say that?”
“No, ma’am.” I have to stifle my giggles when I twist back around in my seat and catch the wink Maris aims at me.
“Likely cause she wanted it to be a surprise,” I murmur but obviously not quiet enough when Kevin lets out a rebel yell from the back.
Hearing that, a small stitch helps pieces of my desecrated heart seal itself back together. It’s temporary, I know, trying to repair weeks of anger and devastation, and the fear waiting for me.
Pulling up to the home that holds so many memories, I begin to hyperventilate. My vision darkens at the edges as the clock spins wildly back to the last time I stood in front of this two-story home over fifteen years ago.
“Kara? Jesus, you’re scaring the hell out of me.” Maris shakes me hard.
“Mom?” In a faraway part of my mind, I hear my son’s anxiety. It drags me from my nightmare the way nothing else can.
“I’m fine.” Or I will be if I could erase the memories of John Jennings out of my head each time I see images of the home where my son was likely conceived. I give them a weak smile. “I’m just tired. And I’m ready to find a bed.”
“Then let’s get your stuff inside. Oh, I figured Kevin would want the basement,” Maris says casually.
“Like a man cave?” Kevin says excitedly.
“Indeed. There’s an open room down there with a bed, closet, gaming setup—” Maris doesn’t get to finish before Kevin’s holding out his hand for a high five, which Maris doesn’t hesitate to give him.
“You didn’t need to give up your space,” I rebuke her gently. “Though for the sake of the smell of your house, it was probably a wise move.”
“Hey!” Kevin protests.
“Is the teenager starting to resemble that remark?” Maris snarks before sliding out of the car. I’m not far behind. I pause when I take in the night sky. It shows me every star I ever made a wish on before I gave up on wishes and dreaming and went back to what I know best—analytical thinking. Shaking my head, I suggest, “Why don’t we just take in the carry-ons tonight? Then we can deal with the larger bags in the morning.”
“That works for me,” Kevin agrees, patting his roller-board carry-on. My shoulders shake knowing his priorities mean it contains his gaming system as well as a change of clothes and his Dopp kit.
“Sounds like a plan,” Maris says. “Hey, Malone?” Both of us turn. She pitches a set of keys in my direction which I catch easily. “Welcome back. I just wish it was under better circumstances.” Her beautiful face has aged with the tragedy we’ve all suffered through.
I nod, but I mentally can’t go there or I’ll just crumble in the front yard. Jed and Dean are both gone; it’s incomprehensible. We’ve lived through so much in the six weeks since their death. And yet, that has nothing on what we’re about to face.
Nothing.
Because four men who loved Jed like a brother are about to find out the secrets that kept Jed from them.
And they’re all because of me.
The next day, Maris and I are groggily sitting around the Smith family kitchen around 9:00 a.m. Juneau time when an actual landline rings. My brow quirks before I ask, “You have a real phone?”
“Oh yeah. With the winters up here, it’d be crazy…crap.” Maris’s checks the caller ID. “It’s Brad.”
Brad. Bradley Meyers. One of Jed’s closest friends. A wash of nausea I decide to attribute to jet lag hits. Calmly, I pick up my coffee and take a sip before saying, “Shouldn’t you get that?”
“I…” Maris stammers. “Shit.” Snatching up the phone, she answers, “Brad.” There’s a pause. “No, everything is handled. All arrangements are made; thank you for offering.” Her eyes drift over to me. “Dean’s family made it in late.” Another pause. “I appreciate the thought, but they’re really not in a condition to meet anyone right now.”
I mouth, “Thank you,” to her, because while I know the cocoon around us won’t last longer than the reading of the will, having this time to acclimate is critical for the mental well-being of my son. Jennings’s son. The son I tried for years to contact him about.
Well, there’s nothing I want or need from Jennings any longer, I tell myself firmly. It was a struggle, but in the end, we made it with more than most single-parent families. We live comfortably in a two-bedroom apartment not far from where I work, and Kevin is well adapted due to the two incredible male role models in his life. And if I secretly wonder if I’m going to be enough to get him through this next stage of growing to become everything I knew he could be from the moment he was laid in my arms, well, that’s on me.
In many ways, I came to peace with the fact Jennings never wanted anything to do with his son long ago because he gave me something much better than a man’s love. Jed believed his friend’s life would be shaken by the news about his son. I have my doubts, but I guess we’ll all know soon enough. I just wish my son wasn’t old enough to be witness if it doesn’t go the way Jed predicted it would. Whereas I’ll leave with the love that grew out of my body and soul, I want Kevin’s heart just as intact—if not more so—than we arrived. Is that going to be possible?
Just then, as I half listen to Maris wrap up her call with Brad, Kevin stumbles into the kitchen.
Everything comes second place to my son: ambitions, goals, dreams. They fade under the glow of Kevin’s eyes when he spies me sitting at the counter. These are the moments every parent lives for—sharing everyday love and aches with a person connected to your soul. Jennings doesn’t know that by his own choices.
Kevin comes directly to me, giving me a brush of his cheek before he goes to snatch my coffee. Shaking my head, I hand it over. “I’ll just go get another one,” I tease, brushing my hand along his jaw.