“I have to get Jacks to school, or he’ll be late.” If there was one thing he hated talking about, it was his childhood, but he gave Helen an awkward pat on the shoulder as he passed, not wanting her to think she upset him. “Thanks for the talk, but I think we’re both doing as well as we’re able.”
Avoiding her mournful eyes, Carter walked to the kitchen where Jackson stood at the table, placing his textbooks and notebooks in his backpack with precision. Every morning he went through the same ritual; each book had to be stacked in size order, and every notebook was color coordinated to match the covers Jackson made for each textbook.
“Ready to go, buddy?” He held out Jackson’s down jacket and scarf. “Better wear this; it’s still cold out today. And you took your medicine, right?”
Jackson scowled. “I’m not a baby.”
Surprised at this unexpected resistance, Carter found himself at a loss for words. From the first, Jackson had been a compliant, uncomplaining kid, who always did what he was asked without question. Now Carter noticed little things: Jackson balking at his chores or at being told to brush his teeth at night before bed. Having no desire to confront him, especially right before taking him to school, Carter decided to make light of it.
“Of course you’re not. I’m being overly careful, but humor me.”
Without answering Jackson took his jacket and walked away. Relieved to see he’d wound the scarf around his neck, Carter followed him and watched as Jacks said goodbye to Helen. He hugged her back and kissed her cheek, even giving her a smile. Stupid him, the little signs were what he wanted most from his brother yet rarely received.
The disappointment must’ve been evident on his face as Helen came over to whisper in his ear while Jacks finished zipping up his jacket and pulled on his gloves.
“He loves you. Sometimes it’s harder to show the ones you love the most how you really feel about them. My theory is he’s gotten more comfortable with you; less afraid you’ll leave him or send him away, but he’s not sure how to show you affection. He’s never had a father or a strong male presence in his life before. In this society, boys are taught, even at his age, not to show emotion. Jacks may be afraid to let you know how much he really loves you.”
He nodded and left without answering, Jackson at his side. What Helen said made sense, and Carter struggled with the concept of becoming more loving. You couldn’t teach that, it had to be inside you. Funny how Reed popped into his mind. Reed knew how to love; Carter sensed he possessed an endless source waiting for the right person to set it free. At the corner, he automatically took Jacks’s hand and waited for the light to change. The little hand in his felt so right and he held it tighter. Carter worried at his ability to show love, even to Jacks, whom he loved more than anything he thought possible.
The school was several blocks away, and they fell into step with the other adults and children streaming down the block. The old gray concrete behemoth loomed ahead of them, its iron gates surrounding the schoolyard. The first time he approached it years ago, it intimidated even him, but Helen reassured him it boasted wonderful teachers and award-winning special programs geared to Jackson’s needs. The reason he left Manhattan and moved to Brooklyn was so Jackson could have this school and a yard to play in.
From the start, Carter had been determined to mainstream Jacks. Because they had so little to work on, and having no medical history, his doctors did the best they could in diagnosing and treating Jacks, and now Carter believed he was seeing the fruits of their labor. More confident and with a growing self-image he’d only begun to explore, Jackson may have finally reached a milestone.
Two boys rushed up to them, and Carter recognized them from earlier play dates.
“Hi, Henry, David. How’re you boys doing?”
“Good,” said one he thought was Henry. “Can Jacks come over today after school? We can do homework, then play.”
He needn’t bother asking Jacks if he wanted to go. The shining eyes and hopeful smile on his face spoke volumes. For a moment a small ding of jealousy darted through Carter. There used to be a time when Jacks preferred his company to anyone else’s, and he mourned the loss of having his little brother not only as a bright and lively little companion, but as a way to keep his own life busy, meaningful, and less lonely.
“I don’t know…”
Don’t be an idiot. This is what’s right for Jacks.
Immediately contrite, he forced a smile back at the boys watching him, with Jacks’s gaze the most pleading.
“All right, sure. I’ll text Helen and let her know. But you have to be home for dinner, okay?”
His words were lost in the chilly air as the boys cheered, then sprinted ahead to join the growing swell of students entering the schoolyard. Jacks hadn’t even said goodbye to him, and Carter stood on the sidewalk, feeling rather forlorn and forgotten.
“Don’t worry,” said a voice tinged with laughter in his ear. “They all leave us in the end.”
Shaken out of his pity party, he found himself staring into the eyes of a familiar woman around forty, wrapped up in a big down parka, her brown curly hair caught up in a messy bun.
“Was I that obvious?” He gave a weak laugh and rubbed his chin. “I don’t get the chance to take Jacks to school that often, so I thought it might be special for him, but I guess not.”
Smile lines fanned out from her sympathetic eyes. “You shouldn’t think that. I’m Michelle, Henry’s mom, by the way. We’ve met, but I’m not sure you remember me with all the running around that went on when you dropped Jacks off.”
“Yes, I remember now.” Henry’s house was an old Victorian with sprawling rooms, two large dogs racing about, and a hodgepodge of mismatched but comfortable furniture. To Carter, it immediately spelled family, security, and warmth.
“Boys are like that. And Jackson is a lovely child. I can’t imagine it’s been easy, but you’ve done amazing things raising him.”
At his quizzical look, she explained. “Henry’s been in class with him for two years now, so I’ve seen Jackson’s growth. He’s gone from scared and shut down to a young boy on the brink of stepping out in the world. And you’ve done this all alone, except for Helen?”
“Yes.” His phone buzzed, and he quickly glanced at it, noting he had a meeting at ten o’clock. “I’ve been raising him for the past three years since our mother left him with me.”
“Helen mentioned you’ve done everything by yourself. Not even a girlfriend to help you sometimes?” Her prodding became obvious at this point.
