“And I’m her man servant. Thank God she and her mama are going to be the only girls in this clubhouse. Hang on, Chloe.”
A thud sounds from Jack putting the phone down, and then he whispers a sweet good night to one of my favorite little girls. A door creaks softly, and then Jack is back.
“So, you’re excited about another boy?” I ask.
Kate had her sonogram a while ago but has been oddly tight-lipped anytime I ask her about it.
“Two boys. Twins again.” He almost sounds like he feels bad about it.
“Jesus, Jack. Is Kate okay, or does she need?—”
“She could probably use a shoulder to cry on and a good bottle of tequila, but she’ll be fine. Deep down, I’m sure she’s excited.” Jack chuckles. “But I’m guessing you didn’t callmeto talk babies, so what’s up?”
The sound of dishes clinking together and running water filters through the background. “God, you’re such a good guy. You’re doing the dishes, aren’t you? And you put Hays to bed. I bet you even drew a bath for Kate, so she could relax and cry in peace over being even more overrun by testosterone in the house.”
“Correct on all counts. What’s going on, Chloe? Do I need to come kick Jake’s ass? Get him squared away?”
“Not Jake’s,” I tell him.
The dishwasher door creaks, and the water tap silences. “Go on.” And with those two words, Jack is in full work mode.
“Miles seems to have flaked on us, which is fine really. But Jake is feeling a little brokenhearted—more than a little—and I can’t stand for that.”
“Give me the rundown. Details.” Ice rattles in a glass, followed by the glug and splash of what’s most likely some of the high-end tequila he and Kate adore.
With a deep, bracing breath, I tell Jack what’s up, focusing on the events of the past week. That everything seemed to be going fine, that Miles and I made plans for when he returned from California. How he ghosted. And then—because, really, it’s the most important part—how he broke my kid. When I hear myself relay the events aloud, it doesn’t seem all that bad. That is, until I think of Jake crying in my arms and trying his hardest not to.
“I know I’m being a girl about this, but?—”
“Not at all. Individually, yeah, it’s shit. But considering what he’s been working on and then the final kick in the junk, it kind of makes sense.”
My head is spinning. Jack doesn’t cut anyone slack. Ever. But this goes beyond just giving Miles a pass. “What do you know, Jack? Did you… Did you look into him? Jesus, really?”
He scoffs like that’s a ridiculous question. “Of course I did. Don’t act like that surprises you. You know I would never sit back and watch you give your heart to anyone without knowing what kind of person they were. What kinds of skeletons were in their closets. And I’m not saying Miles is handling things all that great on his end, but maybe give him a pass this time. A week isn’t all that long for him to make peace with his shit.”
“What is Miles handling? What’s he been working toward? What does he need to make peace with?” My heart is racing, and my stomach rolls over on itself, making me wonder yet again if I’m going to need to run for the bathroom and bow before the porcelain throne.
“His trip to California. He didn’t mention what he was going for?”
“I mean, I knew he was going. I knew it was weighing heavy on him, but this is what you guys do. You go into shitty situationsand save the world. You don’t talk about it outside of the circle of trust. Then, you come home to your families, and we get to try to make things better—normal—again. But he didn’t come home to me, Jack. I’m not comparing this to how Dallas left us, to how we lost him, but Miles didn’t come home to me. And now, there’s no finality. He’s here, in town. He stopped by but didn’t see me, didn’t talk to me, just got Jake all kinds of upset. And, God, he sobbed, soaked my shirt with snot and tears, just like… like when…” My heart twists painfully as I think back to the morning I told my little boy his daddy was never coming home to us.
“Chloe, you need to flip this one around. Go to Miles. Talk to him.”
“Tell me what’s going on. I can’t walk into this blind. You guys are the heroes, not me.”
“I’ll call your parents, have them come get Jake for the day, maybe a couple days?—”
“We still have school, Jack. We can’t just blow that off,” I say, but I’m already doing a quick rundown of my lesson plans for the first half of the week. I can make it work and take some time.
“Is Miles important to you? Do you…”
“Love him?” I ask and then sigh. “I do. Yeah, I do.” I hate that I don’t say the words to Miles first.
“Then, go to him. Make him talk to you. Make him understand that you’re there for him. That you’re not going anywhere,” Jack says.
Whatever is going on, it’s serious. Gravely serious by the tone of Jack’s voice.
“He’s a good guy, Chloe. And he needs you. He’s going to push you away—hard—but you gotta stick with him.”
