this and I can’t tell you this to your face. I can’t wait for you to find out how much your son is like you without having ever met you. Kevin’s been a comfort to me living so far away because I feel like I have a piece of you with me every day.
Then again, I do: your son.
I hope in time you can forgive me, my friend. As the Alaskan rain and the Florida sun lifts me to my reward, I would like to think you already have. But I suspect it will take getting to know the best part of you that will ease the resentment inside you for that to occur. That’s okay. I understand.
I love you, brother. Always.
Jed.
PS Here are some of my favorite pictures of Kevin since I’ve known him. I’m in some, you’ll see Kara and Dean in some others. Meet my family, brother. And do me a favor? Take care of them for me. I know you can do it.
I have to set the folder aside. “Jesus, Jed,” I croak out. Pressing the heels of my hands against my burning, wet cheeks, I breathe in the evening air. Inhale, exhale, over and over until I can get myself under control.
Regaining my composure, I scrub my hands against my jeans before I pick the folder up again to flip through the small stack of 5x7s Jed included. A picture of Kevin kicking around a soccer ball with a man who looks so much like Kara, he must be Dean. Another one of Jed and my son fishing out on Jed’s boat in the middle of the ocean. One of the small family out to dinner on Kevin’s—I count the candles—thirteenth birthday. There’s one of Kevin in the swimming pool with Dean during what must be another birthday party. In this one, Kara’s off to the side laughing as they’re both splashing water at her.
And finally, there’s a copy of all of them two years ago when Jed and Dean got married. Jed and Dean are dressed in matching blue shirts and rolled-up khakis. They look calm and happy. Jed’s arm is wrapped around Maris, Dean’s around Kara. And the women each have their hands on Kevin’s shoulder, who’s wearing a miniature version of his uncle’s attire.
Without thinking, I pull out my phone and find Jed’s contact. It hurts when I press Jed Home Alaska knowing he won’t answer. One ring. Two, before Maris picks up. “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Jennings. Is Kara there?”
Silence before Maris hisses, “Do you think today’s the right time for this?”
Wearily, I scrub my hand over my face. “I just want to talk with her, Maris. That’s all.”
“Hold on.” I can’t hear anything, so I assume Maris put me on mute. A few moments pass before I hear a shaken “Hello?”
A tingle of awareness travels up my spine hearing her voice for the first time in over fifteen years. “Hello, Kara. It’s Jennings. Do you think maybe we should talk?”
I hear her breath catch. After she releases it, she cautiously says, “Not tonight. I need to keep an eye on my son.”
As much as I want to burst out with “our son,” I rein that in. “All right. Do you need a few days?”
“Can you meet me at Jed’s gravesite Wednesday at ten?” That’s three days away but not unreasonable.
“Of course.” I’m stunned and thrilled simultaneously at her capitulation.
“I’ll see you then.” I’m still holding my phone to my ear as she disconnects.
Jennings
At Jed’s gravesite Wednesday, I’m unable to comprehend the magnitude of the way my life has changed. I’ve lost a friend who I thought I knew better than just about anyone, but I gained a son I knew not at all.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Jed?” I whisper achingly.
“Because I refused to let him.” I whirl around when I hear Kara’s voice behind me. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a shirt, she barely looks older than the girl I knew all those years ago. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” she says quietly. “It may seem unconventional, but I didn’t want Kevin to overhear everything I need to say.”
“Or anything I might want to,” I reply.
She acknowledges my words with a slight tip of her head. “In a thousand years, I never would have predicted things to have occurred this way. I hope you appreciate that.” Her chest heaves up and down. “The last few weeks have been incredibly difficult. I’ll ask for your patience while I explain my