Chapter 38 Walking Out
thirty-eight
Walking Out
Mom is leaning over the sink, peeling potatoes, silently continuing the business of making Christmas dinner even though Steve and I are the only ones who are going to eat it.
She tried so hard to make this work. She made all of our favorites, homemade stuffing for me, candied yams for Steve, orange rolls for Nate, some vegetarian tofu thing for Angel. Even lemon meringue pie for Gage.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Can I help, Mom?”
She shakes her head, but I pick up a potato and start slicing it into the kettle.
She sighs. “You didn’t feel that way, did you, Jacob? Like you didn’t have a dad. Mark was a bad choice. I knew that almost from the beginning. I shouldn’t have married him, but Steve. Steve has been a good dad, hasn’t he?”
I think about the difference between my bio dad, Mark, and Steve.
Mark was fun to visit, fun to hang out with.
He had every game system available. He always drove a nice car, even though I knew he didn’t pay what he was supposed to in child support.
He was like a favorite uncle who never took any responsibility, the kind of guy you outgrow pretty fast.
Steve was tough on us, but he loved us. I knew that.
He was gone all the time, but when he could, he took us hunting, camping, played catch with us in the yard and basketball in the driveway.
He helped coach my little league team and later Gage’s.
Nathan didn’t play sports and didn’t like hunting or camping.
They never had much in common. Maybe that’s why he feels the way he does.
I set the knife down and put my hands on my mom’s shoulders. “You and Steve are great parents. I’m lucky to have both of you. Nathan’s just hurting. He needs someone to blame. He’ll come around.” Even as I say it, I wish I could make myself believe it.
Steve clears his throat from the corner of the room. I didn’t see him come in. “Thanks for that, Jacob.”
I turn to face him as he pulls me into a hug. “You’re welcome, Sir.”
Mom surveys the piles of leftovers. “Maybe there’s some homeless shelter or soup kitchen where we can donate this.” Steve and I ate as much as we could with no appetite. Mom just picked at her plate.
Steve is in hs chair, passed out after drinking too much, something I haven’t seen him do in years. Mom and I are cleaning up the dinner that took all day to prepare and less than ten silent minutes to eat.
“Maybe we should have had the Roberts over for Christmas.”
“The Roberts?” My interest is immediately piqued.
“Juli and I talked about it—doing Christmas together this year. We thought maybe it would have been easier. Probably not with Nate around.” She throws the dishrag into the sink. “How are they doing anyway?”
“Okay,” I answer. Better than us.
“Is Tyler doing better?” She moves into the living room and sinks down on the couch.
I abandon the dishes and follow her. “I guess so. He’s going back to school after Christmas break, and Mrs. Robets is going back to work.”
“That’s good.” Mom brushes her hair out of her face. She looks so tired. I wonder if I can convince her to take a nap. “What about Jess? How is she doing?”
I study the carpet. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.”
“You haven’t seen her?” Mom repeats in disbelief.
I shake my head. “She won’t see me.”
“She won’t see you? Not at all.”
I shake my head again.
“What did she say when you called her?”
“I haven’t.”
“You haven’t called her?” Mom says. I shake my head. “And you haven’t tried to see her? Why not?”
I blow out an irritated breath. “She didn’t answer my phone calls or emails for the last few weeks I was in Iraq. She wasn’t there when I came home, and she hasn’t made any effort to contact me. Seems pretty clear that she doesn’t want to see me.”
Mom touches my shoulder. “But you still love her.”
I nod once. Then, I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, Mom. I think there’s another guy.”
“Lieutenant Stephens,” Mom says.
I jerk my head up. Did everyone know about him but me? “You know him?”
She rubs my shoulder. “I actually invited him to the barbecue Uncle Jack threw for Gage. And he was at the memorial service.”
“Were they... did it look like they were together?”
“Nothing more than friends at the barbecue, unless they were good at hiding it. She spent more time with Gage than with him.”
“And the memorial service?”
Mom leans back on the couch. “It’s hard to say. He held her hand, put his arm around her. We were all in need of support that day.”
“And he was there to provide it.
Mom nods. “She was really sick for a few days before the service. She looked pale and fragile—nothing like herself. Juli told me Lieutenant Stephens took care of them after Matt was killed.” She pauses. “He had some nice things to say about Gage.”
I think about the things Gage told me about Lieutenant Stephens. Nice wouldn’t have been the way to describe it.
Mom puts her hand on my back. “This isn’t like you, Jacob, to give up so easily. If you still love her, you need to see her. Now, before it’s too late.”
“Now?”
“Now, tomorrow. She’s probably home for Christmas. Go back early and see her. Talk about things. I know that kills you, but nothing is going to be solved if you aren’t speaking to each other.”
I put my arm around her. “I won’t walk out on you like Nate did.”
She flinches. “You aren’t walking out on me like Nate. And I have Steve. She looks over at him. “Christmas is over anyway. Go, Jacob. I’ll see you in a couple of months. When the baby comes.”