“Why? How much did he say he was going to pay you to mow the lawn?”
“Ten bucks a week.” He twists his hands in the hem of his t-shirt, uncomfortable. Nervous. Full of anxiety. “It wasn’t about the money, Mom. I… If I could trade it…”
It tears me apart, listening to the grown-up words spoken in his little-boy voice.
“What would you trade it for, Jake?” I run my fingers through the damp curls at the back of his head.
Sounding small, Jake whispers, “A dad.”
“Oh, Jake.” I pull him into my arms as his tears start to fall.
“What happened, Mom? Why did Miles go away?” He sniffs, trying so hard to be so, so big. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? I was… I didn’t know all the rules before him. Like, the first time we met him and you fainted, I didn’t know about the rules. I was rude and snotty and kind of crappy to him.”
I bite back a smile at the way Jake hesitates and then emphasizes the wordcrappy. I can’t imagine it’s the only cuss word he uses, but the fact that he’s testing it out with me makes my heart melt a little. And it’s just another sign of him growing up. But the heart of what he’s saying concerns me.
“And now, he’s gone away and left me, too.”
“What do you mean,too?”
“Everybody leaves me, Mom. Everybody. Daddy went away all the time, and then he died. Uncle Jack got married to Aunt Kate, and then they had babies and moved far away. All of them left. And then Miles… I thought he liked us. I thought he was different. He…” Jake dashes a hand under his nose,sniffing hard. “He made me feel good, important. Like he cared. I thought maybe this time would be different. Like, maybe he would stay. Like, maybe we could be… like, I finally was good enough.”
I shift Jake, so I can hold his face in my hands. “Good enough? For what, baby? What do you think you’re not good enough for?”
His big brown eyes, which look so much like his daddy’s, are glassy with tears. His bottom lip quivers as he tries so hard to hold in his emotions. His voice is so small, so vulnerable, when he says, “A dad. One who doesn’t want to go away. I just want to be a family.”
And with that admission, the floodgates open.
I pull Jake into my lap. He’s too big, almost as tall as me, but that doesn’t matter, not now, not when he’s so heartbroken. Not when his world is tumbling down around him yet again.
“Oh, Jacob. None of that is your fault. Daddy died because it was his time. God had a purpose for him, and whether we understand it or not doesn’t matter. He was a hero. He saved people’s lives.”
“I miss him, Mom. I wish he didn’t have to die, but…” Jake rubs his face in my shoulder, using my t-shirt to wipe his nose.
“But what?”
“But I think he would’ve liked Miles. Like, I think they could’ve been friends, and if Dad got to pick someone to take his place and make us a family, he’d’ve picked Miles. Even Uncle Jack likes him. And Grandpa, too. I was trying so hard.”
“Yeah.” I run my fingers through his sandy curls, pushing them off his forehead. “I don’t know what to say about Miles. I miss him, too. But I know for a fact that Miles didn’t leave because of anything you did or didn’t do. He obviously cares about you, Jake.” I bury my nose in his hair and press my lipsto the top of his head, breathing in the scent of body wash Miles helped Jake pick out.
Jake burrows his head into my neck, his elbow pressing into my stomach. “How do you know?” he asks softly.
“Because he came by here to check on you, baby. To make sure you were doing okay and to keep his promise to you. Maybe he’s got something going on, something that he’s having a hard time dealing with, but he for sure didn’t want you to think he’d forgotten about your deal.” They’re only words. I have no idea if there’s any truth to them, but with each assurance I mumble into Jake’s hair, tension drains from his body. “Why don’t we call it a night, babe? I’ll cover our slices of cake, and we can have them for breakfast.”
“Really?” With a pat to his hip and a shift of my shoulder, Jake gets the hint and sits up, staring at me.
“Really. Go on and brush your teeth.”
“Love you, Mom.” He squeezes me tight and lumbers up the stairs.
I wrap his cake and tuck it into the fridge, but mine, I scrape into the trash. I have no appetite. My stomach churns as I think about how much life has thrown at Jake. How much he’s dealt with and just how hurt he is.
Calling Miles or even texting him is getting me nowhere. And while, initially, I was doing that for me, this is different now. When it hurts my kid, the stakes change. So, I call the only person who has been there with me through everything. The person who caught me when the news about Dallas brought me to my knees.
“Jack, it’s Chloe,” I say. “Do you have a minute?”
“Hey, yeah. Just let me get Hays settled in bed.” He grunts and mumbles under his breath some nonsense about his daughter being too big to be carried up the stairs.
I smile, picturing her clinging to her daddy like a baby koala. “Don’t you say such things to her. Precious Hays is a princess,” I coo as if I were talking directly to her instead of Jack.
