Josiah recapped the call and nodded at the papers on the coffee table. “Could you read the top one?”
Jarvis glanced at him, then picked up the paper. “All right….”
He read without comment, then put the paper on the couch cushion between them.
“Was it my fault?” Josiah found himself asking in a small voice.
“That your birth father passed away alone like that?” At Josiah’s nod, Jarvis shook his head. “No. From what you’ve told me, I think your parents never expected to have a child in the first place. They had their life already, right? They were around their thirties when you were born, and very much in love with each other. They chose what kind of parents they would be to the child they produced. None of that was your fault.”
Logically, Josiah had always known that. It just felt damn good, validating, to hear it from a professional. “I just… I didn’t know she’d died.”
Jarvis nodded. “She was your mother. Most children have deep attachments to their mothers, whether they are good mothers or not. That’s how we’re built, psychologically speaking.”
“There was this kid,” Josiah said, suddenly recalling a long-gone memory. “He had a couple of siblings at least. He was in my school but I can’t remember the details, other than even at ten or so I knew something was wrong about how they looked. They were all skinny little things, always in dirty clothing that never quite fit right. Too-small shoes and no real cold-weather gear, that sort of thing.” He warmed his hands around his mug as he continued, “Then one day I was going to the library, I think. It was in the summer, so I had nothing else to do. I didn’t have friends because my parents didn’t want kids in the house and—anyway, I was walking past the house where that family lived and there were cops and what I now think must’ve been social services. They were taking the kids away, and I remember that boy who was a year older than me just screaming that he didn’t want to leave his mama.”
Josiah blinked a few times, feeling unsettled like he had that day all those years ago.
“Children learn that what their home is like, how their parents are like, is normal. Oftentimes, no matter how rough it is, whatever happens behind closed doors, that’s their safe place. To be taken away from it is terrifying. He must’ve had deep love and loyalty toward his mother.”
“I never learned what was actually going on there. Who knows, maybe she did her best for the kids, you know? She might have been a good person. But that’s not… it’s not enough, right?”
“No, it’s not enough if the children are suffering. That’s why there are laws and social workers who try to make sure kids are safe.” Jarvis snorted quietly. “Except of course that’s not a foolproof system either. Foster care isn’t always the safe place it’s supposed to be, either.”
“I’ve heard stories. The twins were in foster care for a while before their grandma could take them in. It… wasn’t good.” Josiah sighed. “In any case, my mother died five years ago and I don’t know what to do with these contradictory feelings about the whole thing.”
Jarvis smiled. “I think having contradictory emotions surrounding her and your father as well is normal. If your mind fixated on either the positive or negative emotions about it all, I’d be worried.”
Josiah frowned. “Positive emotions?”
“I mean that in the loosest way possible, of course. I doubt you’re feeling happy that they’re gone. But I also know that on some level something like this can bring closure.”
It made sense. While he felt conflicted and contradictory, there was a sense of relief. In a way, there was nothing he could do now. “There was a stone in the pit of my stomach,” he murmured. “Still. After all this time.”
Jarvis waited him out. After a few minutes, Josiah had more words to explain his feelings.
“I kept thinking that maybe today or tomorrow or next week, maybe next year or at Christmas, that one day they’d reach out to me. Not… not even to try to reconnect, but to check up on me, maybe? Tell me how they’re doing. Just… polite things, like distant old friends or neighbors you don’t really see much.”
“Is the stone gone now?”
Josiah swallowed, feeling his body out. “Yeah. It’s done now. All of it.” Then he snorted. “Well not all of it. There’s still whatever the attorney called me for. Wills, funerals, that sort of stuff.”
“Do you want to talk about your father?” Jarvis asked after a few moments of silence.
“I don’t know what there’s to say. He was never—like my mom, she tried when I was little. He never did. He was concentrated on her, on her being his alone, you know? I guess on some level he saw me as competition. I’m not—I don’t feel sad that he’s gone, just… shocked because of all the what ifs that were left? I’m glad it’s done. I think he made his bed, you know. He chose the life he was living after she passed.”
There wasn’t much more to say after that. Josiah felt empty in a weird, not completely uncomfortable way. They had another mug of coffee each and talked about random things, which Josiah realized was because Jarvis didn’t want to leave him alone just yet.
“Do you want to call the attorney while I’m here? Or wait until Monday and do it with Denny?” Jarvis asked when they moved to the kitchen table to go through the paperwork together. Well, Josiah was going through them with Jarvis’s silent support.
“She said there was no rush, so I’ll wait for Denny. There’s nothing that can be done over the weekend anyway, probably.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
Denny texted him later to say he’d landed in Sweden. Josiah thought for a few moments, then just sent him a heart like he always would when checking in.
That night when he got prepared for bed, he felt an odd chill. It wasn’t that he felt cold, but more like something inside him wasn’t… right. As he stepped back into his room after brushing his teeth, he shivered. Without thinking about it too much, he grabbed his pillow and cell phone, and marched to Denny’s room.
He settled under Denny’s covers and sighed. Denny’s scent surrounded him and made the chill lessen. It took him a moment to realize that the feeling was Denny’s absence. They’d been so close to one another lately, that not having Denny there was messing with his whole being.
