Chapter 28
Jett
“So you threw him out?” my sister snaps.
“Janie…” Owen places a cup of steaming coffee in front of me.
“No, I’m just trying to see if I got this right.” My sister sits down on the chair across from me, her eagle eyes piercing right through me. “You threw your boyfriend, whom you clearly love, out on his ass because he saw your pills?”
I nod. I don’t even bother debating Janelle on the ‘love him’ part because she always sees right through me anyway. Owen sits, offering me a sympathetic smile, then sips his coffee.
“Because you still haven’t told him?” Her voice softens a tad, and she reaches for my hand across the table. “Why is it that you still haven’t told him, Jared?”
I shrug, tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t know.”
I spent all morning in bed, replaying everything in my head, hating myself more and more as the hours passed, missing Wes like crazy. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, then drove to Hillsboro.
“Baby brother,” Janelle sighs, squeezing my hand. “Of course you know.”
I brush my fingers along the leaf-patterned tablecloth. “Because I can’t, Janie. I just can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
I shake my head like a defiant child. “You don’t understand.”
She scoffs. “Don’t give me that martyr spiel, Jared Cordier. That ‘no one understands me, and I’m all alone’ crap.”
“Honey, I don’t think—” Owen starts.
“Stay out of this, Owen. This is between my stubborn-ass brother and me.”
Owen sighs and walks to the fridge, grabbing a beer. He holds it up, waving it in front of him. “I’ll be in the yard, minding my own business then,” he says, then turns and leaves through the back door. “Defrost the hamburgers in thirty minutes, honey,” he calls over his shoulder.
“That was uncalled for,” I quip.
“Yeah, well, a lot of things are. Like dragging your brother off the railing of a balcony in Paris. That’s pretty uncalled for, too, but it still happened.”
I swallow. I know that day is still as real to Janelle as it is to me.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“I don’t want your sorries, Jared.” She puts her hand on top of mine, stilling my fidgeting.
“I’d do it all over again, but I pray I won’t have to.
I want you to get mad, but not at Wes. He didn’t do anything wrong other than fall in love with you.
” She throws her braids over her shoulder.
“Direct your anger where it should’ve been in the first place. ”
“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say. I can’t exactly direct it at Dad, now can I?” My sister’s always been good at hitting sore spots, because I’ve wanted to get mad at Dad hundreds of times over the years. But it doesn’t feel like I’m allowed to because he gave up so much for me.
“Why not? He deserves it.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “He deserves to know the truth about what he did to you. Instead, you take all your fears out on Wes, someone who genuinely cares about you. You don’t even know if he saw the label on your meds.
You always just assume the worst, don’t you? ”
“I’m sure he saw it,” I mumble, and Wes’ hurt and confused face flashes before me.
“You’re sure?”
I shrug. “It is what it is, okay? It’s better this way. I’m too messed up to be in a relationship.”
Janelle gets up, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. “Hold up a sec. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back. Just gotta get out the world’s tiniest violin.”
“Fuck you!” Why did I even come here?
Her eyes flash at me. “Yeah, well, fuck you, too, baby brother. Fuck you for not grabbing onto something real and good but running from it instead.” Her voice shakes.
“Just so we’re clear, I don’t want to have to pick you back up when you hit rock bottom.
Not again, Jared.” Her eyes are brimming with tears now, and my heart breaks.
“Janie…” I stand and walk to her. My sister might be a fierce lioness with the mouth of a sailor, but she’s soft, too.
“I’m not gonna break again. I promise.” I offer her a half-assed smile.
“This is not me breaking, Janie. Not even close.” I sigh, the words like acid on my tongue.
“It just didn’t work out with Wes, but I’ll be okay. ”
Janelle hugs me, burying her face against my neck. “It could, though. It could work out because you two were happy, weren’t you?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I just…” I hold her tighter. “Maybe it’s just too soon, you know?”
Janelle sniffles against me. “It’s never too soon if it’s the right person. Life gives you what you need when you need it most.”
“Janie…” My heart spills over with affection and admiration for my sister.
I know what she’s thinking about right now.
The day she met Owen was one of the darkest days of her life.
She was two years into college. A guy she was seeing had gotten her pregnant, but didn’t want to deal with it.
She hadn’t told anyone. She couldn’t tell Mom and Dad because she knew they’d talk her into keeping the baby.
She didn’t even tell me. She went to the abortion clinic on her own, and when she was leaving, those assholes were there with their signs, their slurs, and their so-called forgiveness.
Owen, who was also a student, came by on his bike and saw my sister crying her way through the crowd.
He stopped and walked her home. He made her tea, and the next day he came by again with takeout. The rest is history, as they say.
“You and Owen are different. You belong together.”
“You’re damn straight we do, but I saw how Wes looked at you. He doesn’t seem the type to only care about you when you’re feeling good. The right person will still be there when you fall.”
I sigh into my sister’s hair. I don’t know what to say. I don’t assume that Wes expects this perfect and accomplished athlete, like in his childhood scrapbook. It’s the broken parts of me I worry about. Parts that won’t ever be fixed and will resurface whenever something triggers me.
“You should at least call him and let him know you’re okay. I bet he’s worried.” Janelle pulls away from me, her hands resting on my arms. “At least do that.”
I nod. “Maybe la—”
“Granddad!” Mia squeals from the living room. “Mommy, Mommy, Granddad’s here! His car is here!”
I freeze, and my stomach drops. Fuck, not now. I can’t face my dad now. Not when I’m this raw and barely hanging on to my sanity.
“Shit!” Janelle hisses. “I totally forgot he was coming by with a new bike for Mason.” She ushers me toward the back door. “Go hang out with Owen. I’ll get rid of him.”
An unfamiliar feeling of not again fills me. No. I’m not going to run. Not this time.
“Where are my perfect grandbabies?!” Dad yells from the entryway. Small feet thunder across the floor and down the stairs.
“Jared.” Janelle shakes me, but it’s like my feet have grown roots into the floorboards.
“We’re here! We’re here!” Mia and Mason yell in unison.
“There you are,” my dad laughs in that booming way of his. “I missed you!”
Bile rises in my throat. I love my niece and nephew, but I’m so fucking envious that they get this version of my dad when all I ever got were harsh words and criticism.
Anger builds inside me the more my dad laughs.
I hate him. He ruined my life. He ruined what I had with Wes.
Because he’s always fucking there, in my head, wherever I go, no matter how hard I try to leave my past behind.
He’s the one who has held me back from living. And I let him.
“Janelle, those kids of yours are little monsters! You have to—” Dad freezes in the doorway to the kitchen, Mia and Mason hanging from his arms. “Oh,” he says, then looks me up and down from my hoodie to my sweats, like he’s already trying to find a fault somewhere.
He frowns, then puts the kids down. They whine, but he steps away from them and toward me as he holds out his hand.
“Jared,” he says, his voice uncertain. “This was unexpected.”
I eye his hand, but I don’t take it. I haven’t seen my dad since that day in Paris, and somehow, he’s smaller than I remember. Less intimidating.
Janelle ushers the kids out the back door. “Go play with your dad and Rufus.”
“But Granddad—” Mia protests.
“He’ll be right there. Get going.”
They both mope but run out the door. Dad’s hand hovers between us.
“Won’t you shake your father’s hand, son?” he says, that familiar edge of accusation in his voice.
“Can I offer you a coffee, Dad?” Janelle cuts in, heading for the coffee machine.
“Thanks, sweetheart. So, how’ve you been?” he asks me like I just went away for a long weekend. He clenches his fist, then drops his hand.
“Good.”
Dad’s shoulders relax a bit. “How’s coaching?” He moves to the table and pulls out a chair.
“Good.” If he thinks I’m going to give him more than he’s already taken from me, then he can think again.
“Bet you miss running,” he chuckles.
“I run,” I say, my voice dry.
“You know what I mean.” I do, and I don’t miss it, not even for a second. “Well, you know what they say, ‘If you can’t do, teach’.”
I just stare at him, the man who was supposed to love me, protect me, and build me up. I hate him.
Dad goes on, completely unfazed. “I heard that head coach Anyango is a real ball-breaker. That’s why I called you a while back.
I wanted to give you some pointers if he, oh, thanks, sweetheart.
You always spoil me, just like your momma.
” He accepts the cup of coffee from Janelle.
And it’s the first time I notice that he has a special tone reserved just for me and another for everyone else.
How come I never noticed before? Was I really that detached from my own life?
“Sure, Dad.” My sister eyes me, mouthing you okay behind Dad’s back. I offer her a curt nod, then stare directly at my father.
“He’s amazing, actually,” I say.
Dad huffs, then mumbles, “He got lucky winning those World Athletics Championships if you ask me.”