Chapter 3 #3
“Just to be safe,” he said, cutting me off.
He waited until I’d done as ordered before jogging toward the restrooms.
“So, what’s the deal?” Jesse asked, leaning forward until their arms were folded on the back of the seat. “Who is that guy? We don’t even know him, and we’re going to live with him?”
That was the moment. The one where I’d either lay it all out, explaining what the play was, or tell them the story that Grease had concocted.
On the one hand, I knew that Jesse was old enough, had a firm grasp on what we’d been dealing with, and the maturity to keep the story straight.
On the other hand, not only was Finn not old enough for any kind of details, but it would also freak him out more than he already was after coming home from school to find our townhouse packed up for a move out of state.
There was no right answer, not really. I’d either be lying to them about something pretty huge or telling them an unwelcome and scary truth.
In the end, it came down to one thing. They deserved to live a life out from under the threat of David Granger, and that included the plan I’d used to do it. They were just kids. The simplest answer, even for Jesse, was the right one.
“We’ve been talking about it for a while,” I said, turning to face them. “And when Curtis moved back home to Eugene, we decided it was as good a time as any.”
“You have not,” Jesse argued immediately. “I would’ve known if you were seeing some guy.”
“He was in Montana,” I countered. “We’ve been long distance since it started.”
Jesse narrowed their eyes.
“You don’t know everything, Jess,” I said, reaching out to pinch their nose like I did when they were little. “You just think you do.”
“So you’re saying that you met some guy online or something? I know you didn’t go to Montana. And now we’re moving to live with him. Are you nuts?”
“We met a long time ago,” I lied. “Back before Finn was born. We just reconnected more recently.”
I could tell that Jess wanted to tell me I was full of shit. Everything in their facial expression indicated that they didn’t believe a word out of my mouth.
“It’s like a movie,” Finn said, his head popping up between my headrest and Jesse’s elbow.
“Life isn’t like movies, Finn,” Jesse replied flatly.
“Who’s the parent?” I asked Jesse softly, holding their gaze as I willed them to drop it.
“You are,” they said after a long, stubborn moment.
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.” The answer came quick and easy.
“Okay, then.”
“Curtis is back,” Finn announced. “I trust you too, Mom!”
“Thanks, pal,” I replied as I unlocked the doors.
Curtis rounded the hood and came back to the driver’s side, so I slid my ass across the seat again.
“You were talking about me, weren’t you?” he teased as he climbed in and turned the key.
“Why would you say that?”
“The way Jesse was starin’ a hole in my head when I walked up,” he joked, reaching up to rub the side of his head.
“They were just asking how we’d met,” I replied as he started the truck. “I told them that we met before Finn was born.”
“Good times,” he lied smoothly, backing out. “Sucked I had to go back to Montana, but everything happens for a reason, yeah? Probably wouldn’t be here now if I’d stayed back then.”
“And I wouldn’t have Finn,” I replied, looking back at my son. Finn grinned happily back at me. He was so fucking innocent, sometimes it made my chest hurt.
From the most dysfunctional, terrifying relationship had come the most sensitive and kind mama’s boy I’d ever met. He was a miracle.
“Where was I?” Jesse asked. “When you guys were hanging out, where was I?”
“Don’t know,” Curtis said thoughtfully. “With your grandpa, maybe?”
“Papa was the best,” Finn announced. “He could blow smoke rings.”
“No shit?” Curtis asked.
“Yep,” Finn replied. “And he could fix anything.”
“Grandpas are good like that.”
“We used to watch the monster truck shows, and one time he took me to see one live.”
“Was it good?” Curtis asked, relaxing into the seat.
“It was really loud,” Finn said, shrugging.
Curtis nodded.
They continued talking for the better part of an hour about all the things that Finn remembered about my dad, and I realized for the first time that he hadn’t really had that since we’d lost my pop.
Jesse and I had already heard the stories or been there when the memory was made.
Finn must’ve been dying for an opportunity to describe all the cool shit he and Pop had done to a willing audience.
In most ways, Pop was the only father figure Finn had ever known.
I wished I had realized sooner that Finn was bottling up all the old memories, waiting for a time to let them out.
Finn described how, in the summer, my dad would sit in a lawn chair while Finn and Jesse tried to sneak across the driveway before he could spray them with the hose. It was a game he’d played with me when I was a kid too.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until Curtis reached across the seat for my hand. He gave it a squeeze in understanding that I appreciated, but when I expected him to let go, he didn’t. He just held my hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth as I tried to get a handle on it.
He didn’t let go even after my eyes were dry.