He seemed like the kind of guy who would do that, if he could.
Then, in decisive steps, his ropers crunching over broken bits of Jack’s dinner plate, Hank walked straight over to his brother.
“That’s why you’re wearing his necklace?” Hank asked.
It was Drew’s necklace.
Jack nodded, and then he leaned in and pressed his forehead against Hank’s shoulder. Hank brought his arms up and crooked them into a hug.
And then I could see from Jack’s shoulders he was crying.
That’s when Doc helped Connie stand so they could go to the boys and put their arms around them.
And just as I was thinking I should probably back away quietly and let this little family have a moment to themselves … Connie reached out for my hand and pulled me into the group hug, too.
* * *
NEXT, HANK TOOK Jack outside to get some air. A long overdue brotherly moment.
It was only after they were gone that the rest of us remembered that I’d been right in the middle of saying goodbye.
After a beat, Connie turned to me and asked, “Does this whole pretend relationship thing mean you won’t be coming to Thanksgiving?” She was blotting her teary face with a napkin.
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
“Will you and Jack still see each other?”
“No. Not after I go.”
“Not even for fun?”
“I’m not very big on fun,” I said.
At that, Connie burst out with a laugh and said, “You’re the most fun Jack’s had in years.”
I thought of Robby telling me I was no fun, and I felt so grateful to Connie for contradicting him.
“You’re always welcome to come visit us,” Connie said then.
But I shook my head. “That’s not how it works,” I said, noting how tight my throat felt. “I really won’t see any of you again after today.”
Connie shook her head, like she just couldn’t make sense of that.
Poor Doc and Connie. They had a lot to take in.
And that’s when I decided to go ahead and say something real. “I know the timing’s very odd,” I said. “But since it’s my last chance to say it, I want you to know that this was a highly atypical assignment for me. I never, ever get attached to clients. But I got very attached to you.”
“To me?” Connie asked.
“To all of you. In different ways,” I said—and then I hadn’t planned to say this, but before I knew it, it was happening: “My mom died this year, and being with you has been very … meaningful for me.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Connie said, reaching for my hand and pressing it between hers.
“She wasn’t anything like you,” I found myself saying. “She was troubled. And difficult. And she always made things worse instead of better. You don’t remind me of her, but…” My throat felt thick, but I kept going. “I guess you remind me of the mom I always wished I had.”
Connie met my eyes. “I’m glad I could be that for you.”
“While I was here,” I went on, “I felt like I had a family.” I took a breath. “My childhood wasn’t…” I didn’t know what to say. “I guess I never knew what a loving family felt like. And even though…” I felt my voice starting to tremble. “Even though I won’t be able to be a part of this one in the future, I loved being with you. And I’m just so grateful to know that families like yours even exist.”
I took a deep breath and held it, trying to settle myself. But there was one more thing.
“I’ll miss you, is what I’m trying to say. Genuinely.”
“What about Jack?” Connie asked. “Will you miss him?”
I debated how much to confess. “I will,” I said. That seemed like plenty.
“He likes you. I can tell.”
But here we were, at the end. I wouldn’t even let myself wish that were true. Instead, I shook my head. “I think maybe,” I said, “he’s a much better actor than you think.”
Twenty-Five
AMADI SHOWED UP to take me back to town before Jack and Hank came back.
“You’re a little early,” I said, checking my phone.
“Yeah,” Amadi said. “We’ve got a sick little one at home, so my wife…”
“Got it.” I nodded.
It hadn’t taken long to pack up my things. There wasn’t all that much to do. I even put Jack’s toothpaste cap back on for him.
I thought, for a second, about leaving a note or taking a picture. How else would I remember the sight of Jack’s unmade bed, or the Jack-shaped piles of his clothes scattered around like bearskin rugs?