River's Winter

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River's Winter Page 7

by Leanne Davis


  Jacob’s heart froze as thick as the ice on the river. Lord. Of course, that’s what he wanted to happen. The longer he was around his son, staying clean and sober, the more he found himself enjoying Silas, and the harder it became to relinquish the role of father to Joey.

  “Wo—Would you like that, Silas?”

  “Sure. I never had a big brother before. I have Bri… she’s a big sister. But she’s so old.”

  Jacob chuckled at his reasoning. “Um… so am I, buddy. I’m not much younger than her.”

  “Really? You don’t play like you’re old. I have lots of fun with you.”

  But Jacob wasn’t Silas’s brother. Gripping the boy’s calves tighter in his hands, Jacob had to stay silent for a moment or too. The puffy snow pants prevented Silas from feeling Jacob’s initial reaction. Silas kicked his little feet and his snow boots dropped some snow onto Jacob’s coat. But Silas was oblivious to the identity crisis Jacob was currently having.

  “You live with us now, right?”

  “No. Not forever. I’m just staying with you temporarily. I’ll have to move somewhere else eventually. That’s what adults do.” Although Jacob had never done that yet. It would be a whole new challenge for him to pay rent and utilities and try to be normal.

  But he was planning on it. He found a little studio in Pattinson that was affordable. He hadn’t quite saved up enough to cover the security deposit or first and last month’s rent.

  But he figured Joey would probably approve of his plan since it got him out of their house, and best of all for Joey, prevented him from having so much direct contact with Silas.

  “I found a little apartment in Pattinson. It’s not much, nothing like here, but I can afford the rent and utility bills. I just… I’m sorry to ask you this, but I can’t afford the first, last, and damage deposit. I think I could save it up in the next few months, but I can’t move until then,” Jacob said to Joey.

  Joey snorted. “Unless we front you the money. So, you do need money again. That’s no big surprise.”

  They sat across from each other at the dinner table. His mom put down the spoon she’d been using to scoop the chili and glared at Joey. Jacob’s unexpected reappearance in their life was causing unintended rifts in their marriage. They fought and argued now, from subtle, dirty looks to angry, sharp retorts. Jacob winced. It wouldn’t help his argument if Joey got chastised right now. “Mom, Joey’s right about me and you know that. I always need money, and when Joey first saw me, he asked me right off. He wasn’t wrong then either. It’s my usual pattern, right? Take. Spend. Abuse. Lose. He’s right to be suspicious.” Jacob bravely met Joey’s gaze. For once, the scowl loosened, and Joey’s eyes widened in obvious surprise at hearing his candid words.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Joey, for showing up without warning and putting you in this position. I was sure my mom would take me back. But it’s obvious now that my staying here is ripping you two apart, which is not fair to either of you. I see that. If I could move out now, perhaps it would ease some tension. I hope to visit often. I really value my time with Silas. But this… I mean, us… all together here, just isn’t working.”

  “No, it isn’t,” his mom agreed. Her quiet voice brought both his and Joey’s gazes to her with unmasked surprise. Her mouth twisted up and she shrugged. “I have eyes. I think finding a new place to stay is a positive start, Jacob. And it might help convince Joey that you’re serious about staying sober. Honestly, maybe it would help convince all of us.”

  “I guess Joey always knew, no matter what. Yeah, he expects I need the same thing that all junkies need, huh? Money.”

  “But you’re not that way anymore, right?”

  “I’m trying my very best not to be.”

  “Then we will loan you the money. You can start paying us back each month with interest and we’ll write it up so it’s legitimate. If you accept those terms, then yes, we will help you.”

  Joey’s eyes gleamed with relief and pride at Hailey. His mom lifted her gaze to Joey, and added, “That is, if you agree.”

  “I agree,” Joey said in a quiet, respectful tone. She smiled back at him and Joey gave her an even bigger smile.

  Jacob chuckled. “The honeymoon of my reunion is over, huh, Mom? I’m glad of that. I think it’s much healthier if you can start seeing me as I truly am. You should be treating me like any other twenty-six-year-old son who lives at his parent’s home. Yes, I absolutely agree to those terms and would like to reply with a huge thanks.”

  His mom put her hand out, “Okay, then. There’s an old couch in the spare room. You can have it.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” He turned his gaze to his stepdad and added, “And Joey.”

  That was a breakthrough. The following weekend, Jacob moved into the small, cramped apartment. Taking the couch, the bed he’d slept on from his childhood and the matching dresser, as well as his meager bag of clothes, he took minimalism to a new level.

  His mom glanced around, trying to hide her disappointment after helping him get settled. She brought a live plant, which she set in the kitchen window. “There. You’ll… you’ll still come around often to visit, right?”

  “Mom, do you think I’d rather spend my spare time here? Never. I’d have to be high to like this place better than the ranch and I’m not anymore.”

  Joey cracked up. It was the first time Jacob saw a smile from Joey in all the weeks he’d been back.

  Even his mom grinned. She usually found it hard to make jokes about his addiction or recovery. “I have to tell you, Jacob, I’m starting to believe you. You’re sober and clean. I can almost start to breathe normally again. I was terrified for the first few days you were home. I dreaded waking up to find you gone, or worse, shuffling around, your eyes downcast, mumbling inaudibly… all the old telltale signs you were lying to me and still using. Now? You look right at me. You smile. You don’t shuffle your feet. You show up on time where you say you will and… I almost believe you.”

  “Almost. I will take that word out of that sentence someday. You won’t almost believe I’m sober because I am.”

  She patted his cheek and kissed it. “I know, honey.”

  They left, and Jacob flopped down on the couch. He realized he had to get a TV right away. It was so quiet. He clicked his phone on and listened to music. Thumps that came from next door and upstairs echoed in the small space. He heard murmurs of voices and people passing in the hallway, then a TV blaring the early news. Jacob sighed. Well, at least this apartment was all his. It was a start. And so much more than he ever had before or believed himself capable of having. He decided to focus on that. He was independent now and he had a place to call his own. That was something for a man who never had anything of real value before. Cheap, crappy housing, sure, but it was all his.

  The lazy, insolent loser of his teenage years was now his sworn enemy. He felt like he had to battle that junkie every day. Someone like Brianna would never have been tempted to try heroin. Jacob wondered if something was missing or congenitally wrong with him. Why would he succumb to the temptation but not Brianna? Few people would ever choose to try such a powerful drug. He had to face his past and the person he was, if he wanted to know what led him there. The face in the mirror reflected someone he was sure only his mother could love.

  He wasn’t sure how to change his life, but knew he had to. It was a lot more than just getting clean or finding a job and a place to live. That was all huge in itself, but he also needed to change inwardly. His integrity and sense of duty and honor toward others had always been tenuous at best. He recalled how he went after his own stepmom, despite his dad and that was when he was still sober. He felt sure there was something not right in him. He feared he might be a clinical narcissist, which scared him. Then he wondered if he might not be since it scared him so much to think he could be. Maybe he was just a selfish, screwed-up guy. At least, he could try and fix that. Narcissism? That was a personality disorder he couldn’t fix.

  He pref
erred to believe he was curable. That’s why he came back home.

  Now he had to fix that too.

  Christmas came and went and for the first time, Jacob really felt like he was home. It was reminiscent of the Christmases of his youth. His dad came to River’s End and they celebrated the holiday at Joey’s house. It was strange how Joey could handle seeing Brent and Trinity with no discomfort, but he was so awkward with Jacob. A mountain of presents lay under the tree for Silas… and for Jacob. He was touched when he opened all the gifts from his family. He loved the new towels and dishes, all perfect examples of their attention to what he needed. It was overwhelming at times.

  He spent his meager earnings on stupid trinkets for them. But he actually tried to buy gifts for everyone, which brought tears to both his mom’s and Brianna’s eyes. Silas eagerly opened his trinkets and responded with unbridled joy that was largely undeserved.

  It was wonderful to be home during the holidays. To belong somewhere.

  When Trinity walked in behind his dad, she stopped dead. Her big eyes grew wider, and she pursed her mouth. How could anyone miss the outright fear he saw in her eyes at his presence? He stood up, and his stomach twisted. He hugged his dad with the now customary tight squeeze before he turned to Trinity. He put his hand out. “It’s nice to see you, Trinity.” He kept his voice calm, even, and without any inflection. He tried to make his greeting as ordinary and forgettable as he could manage. She stared at his hand as if it were snake, ready to strike.

  Gulping hard, she put her hand in his. “Hi, Jacob. I—It’s so nice to see you again.” But the grim set of her mouth said just the opposite, she was not the least bit pleased to see him.

  The next day, Jacob discreetly followed Trinity when she stepped outside. He put on his coat and trailed her. When she saw him approaching, she tried to turn and disappear. He jogged to catch up to her. “Trinity, wait!”

  She flipped around. “What do you want?” Tears streaked her cheeks. “I know. I know what I did to you… and to him. I don’t deserve his love and trust, but I love him. I can’t—”

  “I’m not going to tell him a thing. I was going to say I’m sorry for chasing you that summer. I mean, that night. I will take it to my grave. Dad doesn’t deserve it. I know what a huge mistake it was, for both of us.”

  Her panic bubbled up in her eyes and she shook her head. “I admit it was my fault. I was the adult and you were using drugs. I should tell him though because he deserves so much better.”

  “Trinity, you didn’t push me to do drugs. It wasn’t unrequited love for you that knocked me off the straight and narrow path. Let’s face it. I was a big, ugly loser who didn’t want to work or go to school or do anything but drugs. I wanted to hang out and be high and drunk. By the time I started doing that, I was long over you. I was just a miserable bastard and I liked holding some kind of power over you by making you squirm in discomfort. But all of that ugliness toward you was my own guilt. I used to blame my dad for it. I promise I won’t tell him. He loves you, and you love him, and I know that. Pretend… let’s just pretend it never happened, because it didn’t as far as I’m concerned.”

  She sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I can’t do that. That’s the whole problem, even after all these years. That sense of betrayal gnaws at me.”

  “Telling him would only ruin his life. We’ll never do it again, so we have to live with our guilt. Anything else is too high a cost.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I really do. And none of what I became was ever your fault.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I thought I was responsible for some of it,” she whispered.

  Sighing, he started to reach out to touch her shoulder but pulled back. She would have hated his touch. He understood. She wasn’t a bad person. She just didn’t have the inner mettle and integrity his mom had. Trinity cheated with a married man, and fell in love with Brent, but she also cheated on him with Brent’s son. It was a bad summer for both his dad and her. They were fighting all the time. Brent was extra busy with work, and Trinity constantly complained about being ignored. Once, his dad might have found it cute and flattering to be so needed by her. But in reality, Trinity demanded large chunks of his time and money. She got spoiled by the princess treatment, which his dad enjoyed lavishing on her at first. After several years of that, however, his dad moved on.

  When Jacob noticed what was happening, he started giving Trinity compliments, gifts, and smiles, which soon became flirtatious. It didn’t take long before she started smiling back and acting receptive. Everything culminated one night when Brent was out of town.

  It was awful. Totally awkward and unsatisfying for both parties, mostly from their guilt. Afterwards, they lay on his bed, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling without touching or talking and she whispered, “What have we done?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You hate your father that much?”

  “Do you?” Jacob countered, turning his head to stare at her profile.

  “No. I just miss him.” She started to cry. Then softly, mostly to herself, she whispered, “I always fuck up my life. Why do I do things like this?”

  With no idea about her history, Jacob was at a crossroads, which only exacerbated his anger at his dad, but most of all, at himself. Disgust. Rage. Overbearing guilt. The only thing that eased those unpleasant feelings was heroin. It made anything and everything so much better.

  Jacob remembered how much his heart hurt when Trinity asked if he hated his dad. He wanted to scream, No, no! Of course not! But instead he muttered. “Whatever.”

  “Are you going to tell him?” she questioned.

  “No. Are you?”

  “I love him. I don’t love you, so no.”

  Internally, he agreed with her assessment, but he replied, “Then this never happened.”

  “Never.” She sat up, slipping her feet to one side of the bed and grabbing a blanket. She wrapped it around her and fled from his room, putting on a huge show of affection when Brent returned home. She dressed extra sexy and was much more attentive to his dad. Jacob just mumbled before he disappeared for a few days. He strategically avoided Trinity after that until now.

  The mistakes he made followed him everywhere he went. From Seattle to Everett to River’s End. He left a sordid trail of regret, hurt, and destruction. From Teresa, Silas’s mother, to his own mother, his sister, his friends, his dad. Shit, all the crap he’d flung at his dad, and Trinity, but most of all, Silas, the innocent son he abandoned.

  After Christmas, he was relieved when his dad and Trinity returned to Everett. It was hard to face his dad and he knew why he pushed his dad away all those years ago, before the heroin entered the picture. Jacob was filled with guilt that he tried to hide unsuccessfully. But his dad’s unending hugs and kindness made it hard to push him away indefinitely.

  Jacob went back to work and sought relief in the quiet, dull, dark January that now encompassed the land. He was ready to let the drama of the last two months die down and become more normal. Everyone at the ranch had started to believe he was there to stay and would remain clean. Jacob wasn’t always on the verge of losing it. He was diligent in his search for a new normal. He wanted to be ordinary.

  After a long day of work and one more angry exchange with Joey, Jacob didn’t know what to do or how to act with Silas. He entered the café across the river from his mom’s house. Needing food and space and a chance to relax, Jacob walked into the café hoping to brighten his mood, or at least, to get over his own damn melancholy.

  Chapter Five

  JACOB HAD BARELY ENTERED before an explosion very near to him made him take note of what happened. Whatever it was would forever change his life.

  A shooter.

  A goddamn, fucking, random, active shooter with the gall to enter their innocuous café in this small, nothing town.

  Jacob was returning from the bathroom when it all started. He ducked behind the counter where the desserts were display
ed and the cash register was located. Clinging to the backside of the cabinet, he managed to remain out of sight, missing most of the first few shots. He peeked out around the corner surreptitiously and saw the armed man.

  He was about forty. The stereotypical white male, maybe five-foot-eight. Brown hair, oversized eyeglasses, and a mustache but not another thing stood out about him. He was wearing a beige windbreaker, which was too flimsy for January, the month of perpetual freeze and snow. His pants were the same beige color, but ill-fitting and high-waisted. On his feet were a pair of brown loafers. He looked like the man who took your money at the golf course. He could have also been stationed behind the counter at the bowling alley, supplying your rental shoes. Ordinary and unremarkable, despite the big handgun clutched in his hand, which he swung around menacingly, he almost failed in his attempt to be scary. That was because it seemed so unreal.

  Until the panicked noises ensued. Cries. Screams. Anguished moans. A cacophony of male and female voices, like a doomed chorus, crying out together. As one, and yet not. He heard the sharp report of the gunfire. The ricocheting bullets. Ping. Pang. They whizzed in all directions of the confined space. The furniture and walls showed the impact, along with the bits of flesh that flew before getting stuck on them.

  He saw a young woman go down first. Her baby was in the high chair next to her, screaming but apparently unhurt. Another man slumped to the left of Jacob, and he watched others hiding under the table beside him. Jacob took a minute to form a feasible plan.

  Not even a second later, in a fateful moment and barely the blink of an eye, Jacob knew the plan.

  Fuck this monster! The gunman continued forward, intent on taking out every patron in the place. Fearful that he’d turn around and go back to finish off any who were still alive, including the baby that was still screaming in confusion and abject terror, Jacob knew in his gut what to do at once. That was it. The only source of motivation he listened to. Perhaps it was his most articulate sense because he seemed to have laser precision in his ability to respond.

 

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