Chapter Six
Ada went to Jack’s next two basketball games, though she gave the Adamson guys some space otherwise.
She could appreciate Craig’s concerns. Getting too ingrained in Jack’s life wasn’t a good idea until they knew with more certainty whether she’d continue to be part of it.
Slow and steady was the best approach. One day, one step at a time.
They closed on Craig’s townhouse. She took him through his final walkthrough and got his keys.
He held her hand a lot during those times.
He even kissed her, very briefly, a couple of times, but not deeply or passionately.
Ada was having to fill in a lot of blanks where his thoughts and feelings were concerned.
But she loved being with him, no matter the uncertainty.
He was smart and funny. She’d never seen him be unkind to anyone; he didn’t talk bad about people.
Craig was the kind of person who made everyone around him happier.
He had her over for dinner the first weekend in his new house that Jack was spending with his mom.
And it was nice. Spending time with Craig always was.
She knew he cared about her, and she loved being with him.
But she couldn’t shake from her mind that thought that she wanted something more than what they seemed to have settled on.
Slow and steady, she reminded herself as they washed dishes after dinner. Now and then, he brushed his hand along her arm, or smiled softly at her. A man who could make a woman’s heart pound while cleaning a kitchen had some mad superpowers. The sort of man who was worth waiting patiently for.
They’d almost finished with the dishes when someone knocked at the door.
“Who could that be this late?” he wondered aloud.
“Do accountants have after-hours emergencies?” she teased him.
But it was Jack on the other side of the door, standing next to a woman Ada figured must be his mom.
“Carol. What’s going on?” Craig asked.
“I need to be in San Francisco tomorrow, and I can’t bring him with me.” Carol nudged Jack inside.
“But this is his weekend with you,” Craig said. “He’s been looking forward to it.”
“I just found out,” she insisted. “The CEO is giving out awards to the top employees. I can’t just not show up. I could get a promotion out of this.”
Jack’s eyes were firmly focused on the floor.
His backpack hung limply on one shoulder.
Ada remembered feeling the same way when weekends with her dad were canceled.
Not until she was grown and on her own did she find out that her mom was the one who’d called off the visits and then blamed it on her dad.
So much about how her parents handled their divorce had been painful for their children.
She caught Jack’s eye and waved him over. Craig and Carol were still having a somewhat tense conversation at the door.
“Let’s go up to your room,” she whispered. “We’ll get you unpacked.”
“Okay.” He shrugged, his words more muttered than spoken.
She set her hand on his back and walked with him, hoping the contact was reassuring and comforting.
“I didn’t even get to go swimming,” Jack said, his feet dragging as they climbed the steps.
It’s the only thing my mom likes to do with me. Not doing that one thing had surely cut extra deep.
“You can go swimming here,” she suggested. “I know it’s not the same, but it’s something. And maybe in the morning, I can meet you guys at the beach to see if the seagulls are in an attacking mood.” She couldn’t imagine Craig saying no. He must realize how disappointed Jack was.
“Could we get hot dogs again?” Jack looked so hopeful.
“Sure. And ice cream. Vanilla for you, chocolate for me and your dad.”
His smile was fleeting, but it was there. Maybe she’d managed to relieve some of the ache.
Jack tossed his backpack onto his bed. He stood there a moment, eying it. “Do I have to unpack right now?”
“Nah. I think it can wait.”
Jack climbed onto his bed and sat there, his feet dangling over the edge. “What’s the big deal about San Francisco?” he asked quietly. “Is it super big or something?”
He wanted to know why his mom had chosen a city over a weekend with him. That was one of the hard things about being a kid: everything felt so personal.
Ada sat on the bed beside him. “I’d guess there’s something really important there that she can’t do closer to home or on another day.”
“I guess.” His gaze remained on his swinging feet.
“My parents split up when I was a kid. I lived with my mom, but I missed my dad when I wasn’t with him. I hated it when I thought I was going to get to see him but then didn’t get to.”
Jack nodded. She wouldn’t force him to talk or listen to her history. She just wanted him to know that she knew that it was hard. She knew that well.
Ada put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. After a moment, he leaned against her. She was almost certain she heard a sniffle.
Little wonder Craig worried so much about people walking out on Jack. He hurt enough without someone adding to it.
I’m not walking out on you, sweet Jack, she silently vowed. On you or your dad. I promise.
***
“But that means you won’t see Jack for two months.
” Craig kept his tone calm, but only with a lot of effort.
Carol was canceling Jack’s next three visits.
She wasn’t a terrible person, and he knew she loved Jack.
She just didn’t always think about their son’s feelings.
Jack took the cancellations personally and carried the resulting pain around with him.
“I’ll take him to Disneyland or something before school starts,” she said.
“You hate Disneyland.” He didn’t want her making that promise to Jack and then changing her mind when she remembered how much she disliked theme parks. “Pick something you like to do. He’ll be happy just spending time with you.”
“I’ll think of something,” she said.
He eyed her doubtfully; she’d made these same promises before.
“I will,” she insisted. “I’m not a bad mom.”
She tended to get defensive, and pressing hard never got Craig anywhere. But he also knew he had to say something.
“I didn’t say you were a bad mom.”
“You said it with your face.” She took an audible and visible breath.
Months of counseling during and after the divorce had gotten them to the point where they could keep their tempers intact for Jack’s sake.
They hadn’t been very good at it at first. “I’ll think of something he and I can do together at the end of the summer. Something fun. I promise.”
He managed a smile. “Text me some pictures of you and your family while you’re visiting them. Jack would love to see them.”
“I will.” She stepped away from the door, but stopped before she’d gone more than a step. “I really am sorry about this weekend. Jack. . .” She didn’t seem to know how to finish the thought.
“Jack will be okay.” He’d make sure of it.
He closed and locked the door. Carol was about as solid as a breeze. He’d found her laid-back, carefree approach to life endearing when they were young and first dating. But her inability to see things through had become a huge problem later on. Craig was forever picking up the pieces.
He climbed the stairs to Jack’s room, not sure what he’d say to the boy. He refused to badmouth his mom.
“Maybe she just doesn’t like having me at her house.” Jack’s quiet question echoed from inside his bedroom.
“I’m sure she loves having you at her house, hon.” Ada’s voice was soft and kind. “She looked so sad when she dropped you off. She’s going to miss you this weekend. She really is.”
Craig slipped into the doorway, careful to keep silent. Ada sat on the bed beside his son, holding him in a one-armed embrace. Though Jack’s brow was still pulled with sadness and worry, he looked less burdened than he had in the doorway.
Bless you, Ada Canton.
“Did your dad miss you when you were at your mom’s house?” Jack asked her.
Ada nodded. “He wasn’t always good at saying it, but he did. And my mom missed me when I was with my dad.” She rubbed her hand over his arm. “It’s hard, huh?”
Jack nodded against her. “I don’t ever get to be with both of them. I’m always missing somebody.”
Craig’s heart dropped. His son was hurting, and he didn’t know how to fix it.
“But,” Jack continued, “when they’re together, Dad’s eyes get all scrunchy, and Mom’s shoulders go up by her ears.” He smiled a little. “I think I like them better when they’re apart.”
Ada laughed lightly. “I definitely liked my parents better when they were apart too.”
“And that didn’t make you a bad kid, did it?” Jack asked earnestly.
“Not at all. And it didn’t make my parents bad people, either.” She kissed the top of his head. “You remember that when things are tough, okay?”
“I will, Ada.”
“And one more thing,” she said.
Jack looked up at her.
She smiled down at him. “I think you and I need to play a game of Horse.”
“Right now?”
“We’d have to ask your dad, but I’m up for it if you are.”
Jack hopped off his bed. Only then did he notice his father in the doorway. “Can we, Dad? I know it’s past my bedtime, but can we play Horse?”
He ruffled Jack’s hair. “Sure, little man. You remember where we put the balls, right?”
“Sure do.” Jack was off in a flash.
Ada rose from the bed. “I hope I didn’t overstep myself. He needed someone to talk to, and I remember so well how that felt, not getting to be with one of my parents.”
“Thank you for helping him feel less alone, and for not giving up on me even though I know I mess this up a lot.”
“I like the Awkward Avenger, mess-ups and all.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go destroy a nine-year-old in a game of Horse.”