Kara tried to contact you about Kevin; yes, you asshole, if you didn’t pick it up from the service—that’s your son’s name. She has evidence to prove she did which surprises me considering she was perfectly content raising him alone. As much as it frustrated the hell out of me when I found out, I understood why Kara made me promise not to tell you. To her, the bonds of family are sacred—with good reason.
If you use your brain, you’ll remember I tried every possible way to get you to come visit me in Florida. I figured once you ended up in my sphere, there would be no way you wouldn’t end up seeing her and all of this would be unnecessary. Remember me practically begging you to fly down to Florida—that I had something amazing I wanted to show you where I lived?
Consider this the slap upside the head you said I could give you one day.
Welcome to the best parts of life.
Friendship.
Fatherhood.
Love.
I’ve made some arrangements (and you’d better figure out a way to make this work, company or not). If Kevin is under 21, Kara has agreed to stay in Alaska with him for the summer after my death (if he’s of age, he’ll be asked to spend equal time with you at his convenience).
You have a clear sky. Unlimited visibility. It’s all on you to fly or fall now that you’re in the air.
I’ll just be watching from much higher.
I love you, man.
Jed
I can’t say a word as I read the letter a second, a third time. Swallowing is difficult. Finally, I fold it, tuck it back into the envelope, and lay it on top of the other which is much thicker.
It’s also stamped PRIVATE. Beneath it Jed printed “OPEN ALONE.”
“Thank you,” I manage to choke out. Maris lets out a growling noise. My head swivels to meet her devastated face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I don’t just owe her those words; I owe them to Kara.
And so does my son.
Maris blinks rapidly before her mouth firms. “Are we finished?” she asks Mr. Isler haughtily. “I’d like to check on my family.”
“For now, Maris,” he tells her gently. “There will be papers…”
“But not today?” Her voice breaks on the last word. Nick tenses next to me.
“No, not today,” the lawyer concurs.
Maris barely acknowledges the lawyer with a nod before dashing from the room.
“I apologize…” Mr. Isler starts.
“Save it,” Nick snaps. Shoving to his feet, he quickly makes his way toward the door, shoving the box in his suit pocket.
“It’s not that we don’t appreciate everything your firm has done.” Ever the negotiator among us, Brad stands and holds out his hand. “It’s just been a trying day.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Isler shakes Brad’s hand before moving down around the table. Reaching me, he gives a quick shake of his head. “I hope you find what’s in those envelopes valuable, Mr. Jennings. When I sat down with Mr. Smith—sorry. Mr. Malone. Since Jed never changed his name legally, it’s difficult to think of him that way.”
I grunt, not caring how he refers to my lost friend. Isler continues. “When Mr. Malone sat down to develop his will, he and Ms. Malone had a disagreement over the phone whether you would find it so.”
“Did they?” That tidbit of information is like losing Jed all over again.
The lawyer emits a low noise. “It was intriguing to listen to them debate the issue. Ms. Malone was skeptical you’d appreciate the gift.”
My brows raise, but I don’t reply.
After offering his final condolences and leaving us alone in the room, Brad, Kody, and I are left standing there. Kody asks, “What did the letter say?”
I let out a slow burst of air. “That if I wasn’t so stubborn, I’d have known about my son a long time ago. But that Kara’s committed to staying with Kevin for the summer for him to get to know me.”
“Holy shit; he is yours?” Kody breathes. I nod.
“I don’t know what to say,” Brad admits.
“I…I need some time alone to read this.” I hold the other envelope aloft. “Then…”
“Then?” Kody asks.
“Then I think it’s long past time to contact Kara.” My head twisting to the window, I see an SUV roar out of the parking lot. Nick’s standing outside, hands on his hips. “And I have a fairly good idea where to start.”
Jennings
The ability to fly has long provided me with an unparalleled sense of freedom I’ve