“You sure? I could always go break the fucker’s nose if it’ll bring a smile to your face.”
I laughed then, loud and full. It was shaky and not at all attractive with my congested nose, but it felt freeing. A few bricks that’d been sitting on my heart fell away.
His head whipped in my direction, and he stared at me in a way I didn’t quite understand, but it made me feel like he was searching for something. I wiped my hands over my face again, worried I had snot smeared, or something else horrifying. “I’ll take a raincheck on that.”
He didn’t push, seeming to understand that I needed the silence to center my thoughts. I sat up straight, stretching my legs down the stairs and fighting the irrational urge to rest my head on his shoulder.
“Jamie wants to join a soccer team. Apparently, he’s wanted to for a while.”
Garrett tipped his head back, his brow furrowing at the explanation for my tears. “And that’s bad?”
“I didn’t know. He said he plays every day with friends, and I didn’t even know he liked it. He didn’t want to ask me because of the money. He was afraid I’d have to get another job. As if he thought he wouldn’t be worth it.”
I took a shuddering breath, fisting my hands in my lap and mentally swearing I wouldn’t start crying again. I was an adult, dammit.
He bent one leg, turning to rest it on the porch so he could twist toward me. “How many jobs do you have?”
“Three.”
“You just, do what? Interchange them to match full time?”
I gave a hollow laugh. “No. I work the same schedule every week, usually between sixty and sixty-five hours.”
He reared back, barely avoiding smacking his head on the railing. His eyes were the widest I’d ever seen them. “The fuck you do.”
“I do.”
“Every week?”
“Every week.”
He stared at me like I’d not only grown a third head, but a magical unicorn one. “You don’t get any kind of assistance from your ex?” He worked his jaw, looking out toward the road, “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
I ignored the implication that Aaron was Jamie’s father. Most people assumed that, and I was too emotionally depleted to hash out my entire moldy history.
“It’s all right. No, I don’t get child support or anything. I’ve tried for years, but he takes jobs that pay under the table, so it’s never happened.”
I didn’t like thinking about how much easier our lives could’ve been if the sperm donor had just been willing to assist with the child he’d helped procreate.
Garrett’s tongue pushed into the inside of his cheek, and I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he wanted to ask something else, but he didn’t. “So, your son sacrificed something he enjoys, trying to make your life easier?”
My face crumpled, tears pooling all over again. Putting it that way fucking hurt. My chest was filling up with blood from the knife wound Garrett had just graciously given me. “Yeah,” I sobbed, “I guess so.”
“You must be one hell of a mom for that boy to love you that much.”
“No, he’s just an amazing kid all on his own.” I sniffed, pulling my legs back to my chest like an infant.
He leaned toward me and I froze, but he only flicked a mosquito off my wrist. “My parents divorced when I was a little older than Jamie. My dad…he wasn’t a good person. It took longer than it should have for my mom to gain enough confidence to leave him.”
He trailed off, removing a pack from his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t fucking breathe. I knew how those stories played out, how it’d played out not only for me, but for Jamie. And my heart ached for the child Garrett was and what he might have witnessed.