Soph has been there for me, bringing me food and making sure I go home before midnight, but I’m still reeling—learning that my father is alive was one of the biggest shocks of my life. I’ve lived over twenty-six years believing he was dead, so it will take time for me to adjust to having a father. I’m also worried that he might not want anything to do with me. What if I found him, and he’s like, ‘you can’t be mine; go back where you came from, trash.’I don’t want to prove Trisha right.
It's my first day off since the trip, and I'm meeting with Eli and his private investigator to see if we can track down my father. Without enough information, it might take longer to track him down. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to fill the fresh, gaping hole in my life, and I think hiring someone to find out the truth is the best way to see if my mother was lying or not.
It wasn’t until I lost Uncle Joey that I realized how much I wish I had a father of my own. I was more than happy for him to be there for me, but losing him unexpectedly has made me think of things in a new light. And I realized that I wouldn’t be opposed to having another father figure in my life as long as my birth father isn’t a massive dickhead.
I hear four knocks on the front door and smile—Eli has a habit of knocking in even numbers. Opening the door, I find my best friend with a brown-haired woman dressed in a black jumpsuit, who looks like she could kick some ass if needed. I thought that Jordan was ahe, not ashe.
She notices my confused reaction and chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Jackson. I’m Jordan Whitecloud and trust me; you’re definitely not the first person to react like that.”
My face gets hot, and I mutter, “I just expected you to be a middle-aged man with a beer belly, so seeing a beautiful woman like yourself was a pleasant surprise.”
A loud laugh bursts out of Eli. “It’s rare that I see you like this, Jax. I should’ve got that on tape for Ollie.”
“Oh, shut up, man. The last few weeks have been the mindfuck of epic portions.”
Eli’s expression sobers hearing my tone. “Fuck, sorry, man.”
I wave my hand in a way that tells him not to worry.
“Are we gonna stand out here forever, or are you letting us in?” Jordan questions jokingly, looking between us. I step aside to let them in.
After getting us water bottles and Diet Cokes, I sit on the couch opposite Eli and Jordan.
“So, Jax—can I call you that?” Jordan asks, and I nod. She continues. “If I understand the situation right, you thought your biological father was dead all these years, but according to your mother, he is alive and well.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Eli also told me about your uncle, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
I take a gulp of the Diet Coke to relieve my suddenly dry mouth. “Thank you.”
What an overused phrase, but what else could I say?
Jordan flips open a notebook and fixes her gaze on me. “Tell me everything you know about him. Even the smallest bit helps.”
I fidget in my seat nervously under her expecting look. I feel like I don’t have enough information for her to work with. “Based on what my mother told me, Reid lives somewhere in New York. He has an Ivy League education and is doing well.”
Jordan keeps writing notes down and nodding. “That’s good. When’s your birthday, Jax?”
“April 10. I turned twenty-six this year."
“Knowing when your mother met your father would help, but your birthday gives us an idea of when they were together.”
I wince, not wanting to think about my parents’ sex lives. “My mother liked reminding me that I was born ten days after thedue date because I had to make everything hard for her, even during her pregnancy."
I look at Eli for moral support. He’s holding his thumbs up and mouthingyou’re doing great, Jax.What a dork. But I still appreciate him being here and connecting me with Jordan.
“Do you know what your father could look like?” she asks, still scribbling in her notebook.
“No, I haven’t seen any photos of him. I thought it was weird that my mother never talked about him or shared any details, but I stopped asking the question at some point.”
“Wait a minute,” Eli interrupts, eyes wide with excitement or eagerness. “Your relatives on your mom’s side are light-haired with blue or brown eyes, but you’ve green eyes and naturally dark hair.”
I turn to Jordan, nodding as my brain continues processing what Eli just said. “Once, after too many drinks, my mom told me she hated me because I looked like my deadbeat father. I guess that comment makes more sense now.”
Jordan’s scribbling in her notebook again, and I snap my fingers when a thought occurs, “My parents met when they both were fresh out of high school, so he’s probably somewhere in his mid-forties now.”
“I know it wasn't easy talking about this stuff, but thank you. All of this should help get you some answers.” Jordan tells me while taking her business card out of her bag. “Give me a call if you can think of anything else. Remember, every little detail helps.”
