“Pat’s thirty-six. We wanted one more before he turns forty.” She laughed.
Pat squeezed her a little tighter, and she leaned into him.
“Congratulations you two.”
Pat’s face looked a little apologetic. I glanced at him, trying to telepathically communicate. I didn’t want to ruin Jules’ moment. Didn’t want Pat to feel guilty she shared the news. “Seriously, congratulations.”
Even as I said it, something shifted in me. I was happy for them, but once again, I felt jealous of Jules. Jealous I had awifeat home who didn’t want me to pursue her anymore. Who had lost so many babies our marriage ended.
We made a little small talk about the baby coming then I checked my watch. I had a long drive home and a lot of thinking to do.
“I’m going to go.”
Jules stood, hugged me. Pat shook my hand. “You’ve got a family to get back to now.”
“Yeah, guess I do.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“One last thing—if it were me…” He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t let her get away again.”
I mulled over our conversation the whole way home.
Then
My rock thunked into the lake, a sharp contrast against the solemn quiet of the day. I looked to my dad, whose dark brows slanted over his blue eyes, wordlessly voicing keen disapproval. I wanted to get it right, but the technique was beyond me. “How do you do it again?”
He sighed and stooped toward the ground, dragging his fingers over the gritty soil. When he dislodged a smooth stone, he crouched next to me. I didn’t want to look him in the face, but knew if I didn’t, I’d get in trouble. His gaze burned into mine.
“Are you watching?”
I stole a glance back at Mom. She sat in the bench rocker, folded into herself. It was a warm day, but she had a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders as if fighting off the bitter cold. She gave me a gentle smile. I tried to smile back.
I jerked my attention back to Dad and nodded.
He slowly bent his pointer finger along the edge of the stone, and moved his hand to the other side of his body. He demonstrated a sharp flick of his wrist before actually releasing the stone into the water. When he did, it skipped four times.
“See that?”
I nodded again, stooping to drag my fingers over the soil just as he had done. I found the perfect rock. Smooth, round, and a littlebigger than Dad’s was. Confident this was my moment, I curled my pointer finger around it and crossed my arm over my body, just as he had done. I practiced the flick of my wrist once, twice. I looked back at Mom. Was she watching?
She was. She smiled again and gave me a weak nod.
I let the rock fly.
If all of my dad’s expectations for me could be summed up in a rock, it was that rock. The stupid thing hit the water with a graceless splash, rustling the surface of the lake. A turtle on a half-sunken log jumped back into the water at the disturbance. My face heated, and the one thing Dad hated most of all heated the back of my eyes.
I took a deep breath.
His voice was gruff. “Jackson, it’s not that hard.”
My feet stepped back from the lake. I didn’t want to try anymore. The urge to run to Mom coursed through me. I wanted to be with her. Should’ve been with her in the first place.
But a cool rock was thrust into my hands, and Dad stood behind me. He grabbed my right index finger and forced it around the rock. “We are going to get this right.” The lake blurred. I blinked hard.
I stiffened when his fingers dug too firmly into the flesh of my forearm as he demonstrated the motion half a dozen times. If there was a way I could escape, I would’ve. My gaze wandered over to Mom.
