“I want to be a good friend to everyone,” Bo replied, sounding very pleased with himself. “Maybe Penny… maybe Penny would share, too, if you asked her. She’s little so she doesn’t really talk a lot, but I think she would. We can ask… ask my daddy. Maybe you can even come over for supper and then have a sleepover, and then you wouldn’t have to be sad. My daddies are really nice, and they’d… they’d make sure that you’re happy.”
Another unmistakable shiver ran through Jayne, but he laughed it off. “That would be great, but you know, we should check in with your daddies first. I don’t know if they’d appreciate it if someone showed up at their house unannounced, would they? Getting permission is important.”
“You’re important,” Bo replied.
This time, the shiver that ran through Jayne rippled through his shoulders. He pinched them to his neck, then lifted a hand to wipe his eyes.
“Uncle Ev-rhett?” Bo asked. “My daddy’s not here, but you’re here. Can we give Jayne permission to come home with us, please? He’s really sad.”
Everett slid his hand from Jayne’s arm to his shoulder, stepping forward to stand at his side. There wasn’t much he could do to help Jayne recover what he’d lost, but Bo had the right idea—Jayne could come to stay with them while he figured out what to do. “That’s a fine idea, Bo. Jayne, would you like to come home with us?”
A tear rolled down Jayne’s cheek that Jayne quickly brushed aside. He nodded.
“Then let’s go.”
Dark smoke billowed upward from the apartment complex, caressing the sharp edges of shattered glass still stuck in ruined panes and licking its way up the city-stained brick. It kissed the edge of the roof, then curled and twisted until, at last, it unfurled in the air and dissipated into nothing. The smell of it carried on the breeze—burnt plastic and acrid bitterness that clung to the sinuses and tightened the throat. Everett had never witnessed a house fire before, but the smell struck him in the same way that the storm inside Jayne had, twisting his gut and clenching his heart until it felt like there was nothing left inside of him to squeeze.
This was what loss smelled like, he realized. This was the scent of dreams stolen prematurely, of hopes shattered, and of futures demolished.
And yet somewhere, a pigeon cooed. An old flier tumbled down the sidewalk, propelled by the wind, its papery flapping expected and ordinary. To their left, traffic had resumed. Motors coughed and churned, wheels rolled against smooth pavement, and people spoke, laughed, and cried. For Jayne, life would not be the same after today, but that didn’t mean that it would be miserable forever. Fire had stolen the future he’d envisioned, but with each passing day, a new vision would rise from the ashes it left behind. The world was cruel, but it was not always unkind. Bringing back that sense of normalcy for Jayne in whatever way he could, even if it was something as small as a place to stay while he got back on his feet, might one day convince Jayne that there was goodness out there, and that there were people who cared.
For now, it was the best he could do.
“I’ll have my daddy bring my blanket so that Parker and I can share it. It’s got… got Peppa Pig on it, and it’s the best.” Bo darted around Jayne and came to stand by Everett again. He looked up expectantly. “Can I please use your phone, Uncle Ev-rhett? I wanna call Daddy and ask him to bring my blanket.”
“Yeah, but only once we get home, okay?” Everett looked one last time at the burning building, then let his hand travel from Jayne’s arm to the center of his back, where it stayed for a long moment in solicitude. “Until then, we’ve gotta hold on just a little while longer, okay? It may take a little time, but everything will turn out right.”
Bo nodded. Another solitary tear slipped down Jayne’s cheek.
The vow was subtle, but Everett stood by it with every fiber of his being.
One day, Jayne’s life would be normal again.
14
Caleb
The front door opened while Caleb was seated on the toilet. He looked up from the Reuters article he’d been reading about the closure of a mom-and-pop sushi restaurant in small-town Japan and listened as young feet in a hurry rushed across the living room.
“Uncle Caleb?” Bo called. Then, more urgently, repeated, “Uncle Caleb?”
“I think he might be in the bathroom, bud,” Everett said.
“Oh.” The feet stopped. Caleb lowered his phone and narrowed his eyes at the bathroom door. What was going on out there? It was unusual for Bo to give up so quickly. “Uncle Caleb!”
The sound of footsteps started again, this time faster than before. They grew closer. With fear in his heart, Caleb looked from the door to the lock on the doorknob—when he’d come in, no one had been home, and he hadn’t thought to use it.
“Ohshit,” he whispered, then dove off the toilet and crossed the room at a panic-stricken waddle, his pants around his ankles. At speeds that had to be record-breaking considering his circumstance, Caleb launched himself at the door and twisted the lock in place. Not even a second later, the doorknob jiggled. As the door shook in its frame, Caleb sank back down onto the toilet and breathed an audible sigh of relief.
How did Aaron manage? Did no one in his brother’s household shit until the kids had been put to bed?
“Uncle Caleb, are you in there?” Bo slammed his fist against the door a few times, as if his violent attempt to make it past the lock hadn’t been enough to announce his presence. If there had been a keyhole, Caleb was sure Bo would have been peering through it. “Uncle Caleb?”
“I’m here, you goob.” Caleb set his phone down. Soyokaze’s fate would have to wait—there was no telling how long the lock would hold, or when Bo would figure out a way to dismantle the door around it. “I’ll be out in a second, okay?”
“You need to make sure you come out soon,” Bo insisted. “I need to ask if I can bring a friend over.”
“A friend, huh?” Caleb glanced at his phone, but even as he did, he was sure he hadn’t missed any new messages from Everett. The last he’d heard, the plans had been to go out for breakfast with Jayne, but if Bo was asking to have a friend over, maybe plans had changed. “Is that so?”
