was right and Jennings did too?”
“Maybe,” she concludes sadly. “God, now I have to feel guilty about how I treated him the other day.”
“When?”
“At the reading. I was less than kind.” But her blue eyes raise to mine. There’s a spark of the Maris I know and love hiding in the depths of them.
“Do I want to know?” I ask, seeing Kevin weave his way back over to us.
“I was perhaps a bit more peckish than I was with the others.”
“Including Nick?” I ask incredulously.
When she nods, I giggle. “Oh, God, I love you. I almost—almost—wish I’d been there to witness you there being your badass self. Thinking of that is almost as good as all the times I imagined him landing on his dick during the log roll when I pushed out Kevin,” I manage to wheeze out, making Maris screech in hysterics just as Kevin sits back down.
“What’s so funny?” he demands
“Maris just reminded me of something funny your father once did.”
“What was it?” he asks curiously.
“Oh, it was one of the acting things he did as a Lumberjack with Uncle Jed. Be sure to ask him,” I say with a hint of a wicked smile.
“That reminds me.” Kevin reaches for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a folded-over piece of paper and a pen. “I started to make a list of things to ask him,” he declares.
Maris lifts her head long enough to gasp, “He may look like Jennings, but he is completely your child through and through,” before she chortles.
Kevin frowns. I throw part of my sandwich roll at her. Ignoring Maris, I address my son. “I think you’ve done a great job, honey. How many questions do you have so far?”
“Forty-seven,” he announces.
“Can I be there when he interrogates him? Can I?” Maris makes it sound like it’s her fondest wish.
“No,” I tell her firmly. To, Kevin, I say, “Keep in mind, this is probably going to take some time. Your father wants to know about you too. As you think of things, keep adding questions to your list. Then, over time to get to know him. I’m sure there will be times when you may not know what to say, and if you get stuck, you can always ask a question?”
“Good idea, Mom. I’ll just keep adding more.” He thinks for a moment and writes some more.
While Kevin’s distracted, Maris lifts her head. She points at Kevin, then uses both hands to make the heart symbol, and then points at me.
I mouth back, “I know.” Because I do. No matter what, I know how much my son loves me. It’s just, what will the additional burden of having a father bring to him?
But sitting there with my son and my best friend, I can’t help but be tickled when I imagine what John Jennings would do if I did let his son interrogate him. And I have to stifle my laughter when Kevin keeps diligently writing.
Jennings
I arrived so early, I’m on my fourth cup of coffee while waiting for Kara and Kevin to show up at the crowded restaurant in downtown Juneau. I eye my cup warily; it wouldn’t surprise me if my server spit in my last refill. The last time he pressed me to order, I lost my temper and snapped, “How can I make it any clearer I’m waiting for someone?”
“Sure you weren’t stood up?” The lanky server is standing there holding a fresh pot.
“She would have called,” I say confidently, but my voice sounds jittery. Is that nerves or the copious amounts of caffeine infiltrating my veins?
“Hmm.” The waiter shrugs while cavalierly pouring, causing him to spill some on my paper placement.
Even as I’m mentally deducting another percentage from this guy’s tip, the door opens. My son steps inside and holds the door open for his mother. She smiles up at him as she passes by. I wonder who taught him such exquisite manners. Fiercely, I think, it should have been me, but quickly I deflate. What do I have left to teach him, Jed? I wonder.
The burly guy who seated me makes his way over to them. Kara tips her head way back and smiles, gesturing with her hands. He leans against the host stand and smiles down at her. Instead of bringing her my way, they start chatting. She motions for Kevin to join them.
My eyes narrow as the young man holds out his hand, lips moving. After taking it to shake, burly guy says something