so sorry… I curse loudly when I read her apology on Kevin’s third birthday along with a picture of him blowing out the candles.
Jennings, At first I wasn’t sure who he looked like, but by now it’s obvious it’s you. With a picture of Kevin all dressed up for his first day of school as a kindergartner.
Jennings, Jennings, Jennings… All of the emails have the same polite informative tone.
Until the last one.
Jennings,
Tonight I have to let you go. I have to move on. I just want to say thank you for this gift, this miracle.
Science tries to explain the miracle of parenthood, but they can’t. Until I had Kevin, I thought I could, but I never knew. And I feel so terribly sorry you don’t have that.
Maybe someday you’ll understand the beauty of a simple hug from someone who’s very heart exists because yours does. I hope you do because there’s nothing quite like what I’m feeling right now. Kevin knows something’s not quite right and his only aim is to make it better.
It won’t make any sense to you, but I’m confused and upset because I’m preparing to do something I’m not quite ready to do, Dean’s excited by it for me, but I’m not sure I’m ready.
Is there a time I ever will be?
I hope you understand this will be my last email. I have to let you go. I have to move on. I suspect our lives will intersect someday in the future when Kevin asks me more about his father. But I need a shot at finding out who Kara Malone is.
Since I know you’re not reading these, this makes no sense to you. And that’s okay. Your email account has been a good place for me to talk to all these years.
If you eventually find these and want to get to know Kevin, all I ask is for you to please do me the kindness of reaching out to me first.
Kara
“How do I go about winning back the trust of a good woman?” I whisper to the room as dawn seeps into the sky. “How do I show my son I’m someone worth knowing when right now I’m not even sure about that myself?”
I forward all of the emails to my work account before closing out of the mail application. Then I shut down and make my way downstairs to get a few hours’ rest.
Rainey was right. The next part isn’t up to me. It’s up to the mother of my son. All I have the right to do is wait.
Kara
“Mom?” Kevin knocks on the door to my bedroom hours after my confrontation with Maris. “Are you okay in there? I brought you some stew.”
God, my son is such a good kid, I think as I sit up beneath the blanket I’ve been curled under since I finished my latest letter to my brother. “Come on in, baby,” I call out.
“I’m not exactly a baby,” he teases as he pushes the door open with a tray in one hand.
“No, you’re not, are you?” My heart aches as I study him.
Having just seen Jennings, I’m struck more than ever by how much Kevin has inherited from him: his hair, his eyes, his height, the cut of his jaw. I push up to a sitting position so he can set the tray across my lap before he does something that reminds me he’ll always be my little boy—he climbs into the bed next to me.
“It’s going to get better, right?” Hearing the anguish in his voice over a nightmare few experience at his age slays me.
How is one little man supposed to endure this much pain? Especially with the addition of what I’ll have to tell him? “It will. Somewhere down the road, maybe.”
He tucks his head into the curve of my shoulder. “Are you glad to be here?” His voice trembles as he asks a question aloud that’s obviously been preying on his mind when there’s already too much there.
“Yes and no. I wish it was by choice,” I answer truthfully. After Dean and Jed’s death, Kevin’s anxiety spiked—something I’m truly concerned about with the addition of adding Jennings into his life. At what point is all of this going to be too much for him to handle? I wonder desperately.
Kevin relaxes fully against me. His arm snakes around my stomach, and I stroke his hair. “You used to do this when you were a little boy,” I murmur, before pressing a kiss to the top