Chapter 33
When Jason returns with the promise of overbearing would-be in-laws, I excuse myself. I could use a shower, and Zola and Jason are too busy watching baby Zane to miss me.
I swear when I got behind the wheel, I really did try to head home.
But this car has its own muscle memory, and before I know it, I’m outside Ro’s shop.
I just need to see if his truck is in the lot.
Catch a glimpse of him to make sure he’s okay.
But the pull of being back here sucks me in deeper than I’d meant to go.
When I yank the lobby door wide, back in this space that’s so Ro in its hard lines and soft beauty, this place that was ours for a single day, my insides physically ache for him.
I wasn’t sure what kind of greeting I’d receive, or if I’d be received at all, but the dimple that pops from behind the counter makes me feel as at home here as ever.
“There she is,” Mr. Jackson says, in his signature greeting.
The kindness and grace shown in those three words is the last thing I was prepared to hear. It’s more than I deserve. It reminds me so much of the undeniable goodness of his son.
When I ask about him, my words are muffled by tears I hadn’t meant to put on public display. My embarrassment is cut short by the force of steady arms comforting me. Holding on to me in a way that makes me sure nothing bad can touch me. In that way only a father can.
It’s a feeling I’ve gone years without. One I’ve spent so long trying to forget. But standing with Ro’s dad this way, I remember.
“Ro knew you’d come when you were ready.”
“He said that?”
Mr. Jackson nods, but my relief is short-lived when he continues. “Unfortunately, timing’s working against you two. Last I heard, he was heading back today.”
“To the city?”
“Got talked into a show real last minute.” Ro’s dad nods toward a youngish man talking to Mrs. Jackson on the far side of the garage doors. “And with my new aide settling in, Ro can finally come and go as he pleases again.”
“Oh,” I say, choking on the word. “That’s great.”
The words are sour in my mouth, but no more than the accompanying realization: Ro’s gone. He was a temporary fixture here, and now he’s gone. I don’t even try to fix my face for Mr. Jackson’s benefit.
He nods again like things are falling into place, but for me, nothing has ever made less sense than Ro Jackson being truly out of reach.
“I didn’t get it at first,” he says. “When Ro told me about your sister settin’ you up.
You didn’t strike me as someone who needed help findin’ your people.
But when I heard you talk about your dad, it made sense.
Being left behind like that—I know what it does to a person.
My own dad leaving changed me in ways I’m still figuring out.
Even as an old man.” He looks so much like Ro when he smiles like that.
“Once I knew what that kinda loss felt like, I didn’t wanna depend on anybody.
Didn’t wanna get used to needing somebody who could leave.
And there was a time where being good on my own felt like a superpower. It meant I was untouchable.”
Mr. Jackson looks back to the garage, where his wife’s face is framed by the plexiglass window. She laughs at whatever was just said on the other side of the door, and Mr. Jackson smiles right along with her.
“But thirty years ago, Ro’s mama decided she was gonna know me whether I wanted her to or not,” he says, laughing.
“I didn’t always like learning how to let her in, but I’m so grateful I didn’t waste too much time fightin’ her on it.
” He’s still watching Mrs. Jackson as he continues.
“She knows me better than I know myself now. And even if I forget everything else, some part of me will always know her. I’m certain of that. ”
He turns back to me as he finishes, his eyes wet with tears, and it takes everything I’ve got not to turn away from the kindness Mr. Jackson offers so freely. It takes everything I’ve got not to run anymore.
“You make it sound so easy,” I say, blinking past the sting in my eyes.
His laugh surprises me, but as he catches a fallen tear, the emotions playing on his face aren’t warring. He welcomes them all.
“Ain’t nothing easy about livin’. But how lucky are we that for today, at least, we get to do it anyway?”