I wonder why she's not breaking down the doors of those private jets to get back to her sweet little boy.
If he's gonna miss his nanny after one day, I can't imagine how much he misses his mother.
My heart squeezes painfully. “I'll miss you too, bud. I'll be back.”
“Are you gonna visit your Momma again?”
“Already did.”
“What about your dad? Do you ever visit him?”
Now it’s my turn to freeze.
“He’s not around,” I say carefully.
“Where is he?”
Leave it to a child to ask the most blunt questions possible. Especially when the child in question is Walker Rhodes’s kid.
“Last I heard,” I say, “he’s on a riverboat casino in Mississippi.”
“Doing what?”
“Playing cards.”
“Like Go Fish?”
“Could be,” I deflect. More like Texas Hold ‘Em. Baccarat. Blackjack. Anything where he can sit at a table with strangers and waste away his money and time and life, day after day, night after night.
“Why doesn’t he come visit you?” Jonah asks.
“Jonah,” Walker says, a note of warning in his voice. “That’s enough.”
“It’s okay.” My eyes meet Walker’s briefly before I look at Jonah again. “Some people just wanna go through life doing their own thing.”
Jonah nods. “Like my mom. She doesn't like to visit me either.”
Oh, my heart. This sweet boy.
I see myself in him suddenly. Just a little kid, trying to understand why his parent didn't stick around. Trying to make sense of being left behind by someone who was supposed to love you the most.
We're both members of the same sad club.
Walker reaches out to put a hand on Jonah's knee, and his voice is gentle when he speaks. “She loves you, JoJo.” He says it in that way that makes me think he's recited this same script a thousand times before, trying to make it true through repetition. “She's just real busy.”
“You’re busy too, Dad. But I see you every day now.”
My heart splinters just a little more. I can’t help but look atWalker then. I catch the conflicted, pained, but love-filled look that passes across his face.
“Yeah, well,” he says, voice thick. “You're stuck with me, bud. Rotten luck.”
Jonah grins, wide and easy, the way only kids can manage when they have no idea they’ve cracked your heart open. “I don't mind.”
“Go on and practice then,” Walker says, patting his knee. “I need to talk to Sadie for a minute.”
“Bye Sadie! See you later!”
We wave our goodbyes and then Jonah clicks his tongue and wheels his horse back toward the open stretch of yard where his lasso has been lying abandoned in the dirt.
