“What do you mean, what’s wrong with us?” Jack asked. This time he mirrored Rohan, putting his own chin on his knees.
“I like us.” Rohan sighed. “Mom makes good sandwiches. Harmony’s okay. Lola doesn’t even hardly talk.”
“You’ve definitely got a good thing going here, bud.” Jack clapped him gently on the back.
Rohan frowned. “Something’s wrong. People keep leaving.”
Well shit. Jack’s throat got tight. “Everyone hasn’t left.”
“Dad did.” Rohan picked up frog toy number one. “You will.”
“I’m just here to visit,” Jack said in a weak attempt at explanation. “I don’t know what happened with your dad.” He paused, extra cautious with his words. “sometimes grown-ups make choices that don’t make sense.”
Rohan’s dad was a goddamned idiot for walking away from all of this.
“That’s why I wish I was a frog.” Rohan picked up frog number two. “Frogs don’t make mistakes. They just hop.”
Jack said nothing because he did not know what to say. His chest was tight, though, like Captain Jack had sauntered by, triggering a systemic reaction in his body.
“Everybody likes frogs,” Rohan said, a touch dreamy.
For that moment, Jack sort of wished he was a frog, too.
He scooted closer to the kiddo, tossing his arm around Rohan’s shoulders. “Everybody likes you, too.”
“And doughnuts,” Rohan continued. “Everybody likes doughnuts.”
“Dinosaurs, too,” Jack added. “Except Rachel.”
Rohan nodded. “She doesn’t understand.”
“You know what else is good?” Jack asked, pulling Rohan closer to his side. “You are.” He said the words so there was no mistaking he meant them. “There’s no frog that compares to you.”
He really could do better than that with compliments, but it seemed to be the thing he thought Rohan needed to hear.
As for himself? He wasn’t sure what he needed to hear.
Not with the Captain Jack pressure in his chest making him question if he ever would.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“‘You’ll eat a pound of dirt before you die—might as well start now.’ My mom’s response to my toddler picking up stray Cheerios off the floor.”
—Jo, Connecticut, United States
April
“Keep your eyes closed, Mom,” Rohan said, even though her eyes were sealed shut.
“They’re shut,” she assured, wishing she wasn’t being so closely monitored because she would very much like to see where she was going. To do that, she’d need to be able to take a peek. Just a small one. She didn’t have to go full looky-loo.
They led her through the backyard and both of them insisted she keep her peepers shut. They’d insisted before she even got close to the back door.
Rohan’s hand held the one on her right, Jack held her left. She leaned a bit heavier to Jack’s side, since she trusted him way more not to let her take a header into the flower beds. Rohan wouldn’t mean to, but he had the attention span of an,ahem, five-year-old.
They must’ve reached wherever it was they were going, and the boys stopped the forward momentum. There was shuffling. Rohan dropped her hand. She, however, awaited instructions and did not look.
“Open your eyes,” Jack said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
