touristy things. It’s time for you to look the part. We’ll get matching hoodies.”
I laughed. “We are going to look so goofy. Are we always going to match?”
He shrugged. “At least we’ll be able to find each other in a crowd if we get separated. You’ll never have to try and remember what the other person is wearing. You just have to look down.”
“Good idea.”
We walked into the souvenir shop and managed to find matching hoodies for all of us. Nash stuck his suit jacket in the bag and wore the hoodie, which delighted Jace.
“Were you always rich?” Jace asked while we sat and ate grilled cheese on sourdough at a café.
“Jace,” I scolded.
Nash didn’t immediately answer. “I can show you where I grew up,” he said. “Then you’ll know.”
“You grew up here?”
Nash nodded. “I did. Not far from here.”
I was looking forward to learning a little more about the man I knew so little about. It was all stuff I should have known about the man who fathered my son. No time like the present to learn.
Chapter 60
Nash
I wasn’t going to get nostalgic. I refused to look back on the old days and feel melancholy. That was not what this was. This was me going back to the bad days and reminding myself how far I had come. I would never go back to the days filled with sadness and fear.
I grounded myself by rubbing my hand over the buttery leather seat of the limo. I looked at the opulence and then at her. I was not that scared little boy anymore. I had gone on to do better than my father ever could have. I made it out of the gutter, so to speak.
“This is nice,” Saige said as the car drove down a street of old houses so close together a guy could stick his arm out his bedroom window and touch the wall of the neighboring house.
“It wasn’t bad,” I said. “Middle class mostly.”
“I think it’s homey,” she said.
“Here,” I said loud enough for the driver to hear me.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the house I’d lived in with my family for twelve years. It was the first time I had seen it in a long, long time.
“This is your childhood home?” she asked.
I slowly nodded. I was subsequently blocking memories and welcoming the good ones. “It is.”
“I want a house with an upstairs,” Jace said.
“You’ve got a great house with an awesome bedroom,” I told him.
“It’s nice,” she said. She reached for my hand and gave a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good memories?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. “Not so much.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you sad?” Jace asked.
I offered a small smile. “I didn’t have a great childhood,” I said. “I used to like this house. My mom always tried to make it nice. My dad worked really hard so we could live in this house. He started his own business and worked a lot. Like a lot, a lot.” I could feel myself going back where I did not want to go.
“That would have been hard,” she said.
I smirked. “Nah, that part was easy. The hard part was when my dad packed a suitcase one night after work and left. He walked out and said he’d call me later. He didn’t want to be tied down with a family. We were holding him back. He wanted to get rich, and he thought me and my mom were in the way.”
“You didn’t have a dad?” Jace asked.
“Not really.”
“Me either,” he said with joy. “We’re the same.”
I nodded. “I suppose we are.”
“What about your father?” she asked me.
“What about him?”
“Did he come back?” she questioned.
“Nope.”
“He abandoned his family?” she asked with shock.
“Yes,” I said. “He did. We lived in this house for two years before it was foreclosed on. My mom worked three jobs to try and keep me in the home I knew. We barely had enough money for food. We often used candles because we didn’t have electricity for a week here and there because she couldn’t pay the electric bill.”
“Oh my gosh,” she gasped. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It taught me a lot.” I told the driver to take us back to the hotel.
“What did it teach you?” she asked.
I stared out the window. The neighborhood had changed a little, but it was the same trees and the same houses. “It taught me that no one was going to help you. You had to help yourself.”