raised me in London until she met Alan, and we moved to New Jersey. When things didn’t work out with him, she quickly met another guy called Jason who owned his own business and was very successful. We stayed with him for another year, then she moved on to someone else. It’s a regular pattern with her. She likes men who are successful and have lots of money. She’s hardly ever had to work in her life because she picks only the men she knows will take care of her. The only man I have ever heard her talk about with any kind of affection is my dad.”
“Who was your father? What happened to him?”
Calming a little from my ordeal, I’m thankful at the change of subject—even if it is just a brief distraction. With my focus temporarily off of Jake, I concentrate solely on the question Jessie has put to me.
“He was a corporal in the army back home. He was sent to the Gulf war when I was only a couple of years old and was sent in to Kuwait to help expel the Iraqi troops. There was a ground assault where my father was shot and badly wounded. They tried to get help, but he died soon after he was brought to the medical station. My mum was obviously devastated, and she did a decent job of bringing me up on her own for a while. It was tough for her, though ... you know, financially. I think she felt that no matter what it took, she never wanted to end up like that again ... a single parent on her own, having hooked up with a partner who left her with nothing. I think she still blames him for dying and has tried her best not to get involved with men who may possibly leave her destitute again. The only problem being is, she has led this life for so long, I don’t think she really knows anything else. I have never once heard her say that she loves any of the men she has been with. It confuses me how she can live life like that. I have no idea why she has come back. That’s a first, by the way. Once she leaves a guy, she’s on to the next. I don’t think I really want to know why she’s back, to tell you the truth.”
Sighing, I shake my head, angry at the thought that my monologue quickly went from my dad to my mum. I guess everything is just so … raw. It has only been an hour since I left Jake’s house, so I’m reeling. I’m practically trembling all over with different, unwelcome emotions.
Jessie shakes her head, causing me to turn to look at her. “That is a mystery. I’m sure we will find out soon enough what her intentions are. I know she’s your mom, but she hasn’t given you the best of childhoods. She could have given you her love and tried hard enough to make it work for you both. She didn’t need to keep going from one man to the next, dragging you along with her. That’s awful.”
She doesn’t know the half of it.
“It’s a pity Jake wasn’t named Jack,” Jessies declares. “So I can call him a Jackass. In fact, I think I’ll call him a Jakeass instead.”
A laugh bubbles in my throat, but soon the laughter turns into more tears as I sob on Jessie’s shoulder. She holds me for a while, giving me the time I need to let it all out. I’m going to owe Jessie a lot for this.
When I manage to get it out of my system, I ask her a question. “Is it really okay if I stay with you for a while ... until I find my own place?”
She gives me a scornful look. “You can stay with me as long as you want. It will be quite nice to have a roomie.”
After some more tears, she leads me into the room where I will be sleeping. It’s a cozy room with a double bed and lovely pastel pink sheets. I’m grateful for the fact it has its own bathroom as I seem to be spoilt in that department. The only problem is, I have no clothes or toiletries. I was so intent on getting the hell out of there that I forgot all about the necessities of everyday life. Luckily for me, Jessie realizes this and offers to get