“Will do, and please do bill me for this time.” Jake began to stand up, but Hubbard waved him back into his seat, heading for the door.
“Please, stay here. I can show myself out. There’s no charge for a consultation. Best of luck to you both.”
“Thanks.” Jake eased down into the chair and patted Ryan’s hand, after Hubbard left the conference room. “You okay?”
Ryan hung his head, then looked up with anguished eyes. “I don’t want you to go to jail.”
“I’m not going to jail.”
“But you would, if we go to the police.” Ryan rubbed his face, leaving a welt on his fair skin. “I never should have asked to drive. I never thought anything like this could happen.”
“Neither did I.” Jake got up, went to Ryan, put his arms around him, and gave him a long hug, then held on, as if to support them both. “It’s on me. I’m the adult, like he said. I ran the show, not you.”
“But you didn’t know about the weed. I should’nt’ve had the weed.” They clung to each other, sad and resigned. “I hardly ever smoke, I swear, Dad.”
“I know. It really is my fault, not yours.” Jake gave him a final hug, then released him. “I took it too lightly. I didn’t think it through. I underestimated the downside risk.”
“What?” Ryan looked at him, bewildered, and Jake straightened, standing in the conference room as he had so many times before, explaining to his clients.
“It means that whenever you do something, you have to understand that the worst-case scenario happens, even to good people.” Jake hoped Ryan accepted that explanation, even as he realized that that was only part of what had gone wrong. He’d wanted to be Fun Dad, so he hadn’t said no. He’d wanted to be closer to his son, so he’d been a buddy, not a parent. It was a mistake he would regret the rest of his life.
Ryan rose slowly. “At least we know what to do. I never would’ve thought you’d have to go to jail, I thought it was just me. If I go forward and turn myself in, they’ll get you.” He met Jake’s gaze directly. “So I won’t turn myself in. I won’t say a word. I’ll shut up.”
“Oh no,” Jake said, but it came out like a moan. “That’s not a given, Ryan.”
“Yes it is, no doubt.” Ryan’s tone grew determined, and he stood up straighter. “There’s no other way. I’ll never tell, ever.”
Jake felt sick to his stomach, even though he was getting what he wished for, or maybe because he was getting what he wished for. “We can talk this out at home.”
“Dad, there’s nothing to talk about. Like you said, it’s a done deal. I can’t let you go to jail, just like you couldn’t let me go to jail.” Ryan smiled sadly, cocking his head. “You protected me, now I’m going to protect you. Guess I’m my father’s son, huh?”
Jake felt his heart lurch, at the irony. “But it’s my job to protect you. It’s not your job to protect me.”
“That made sense when I was a kid, but not now. I told you I’m not a baby anymore.” Ryan’s forehead eased, and his expression turned oddly accepting, almost peaceful. “I wanted an answer and I got one. I’m not going to let anybody else be punished for something I did, least of all, you. I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too,” Jake said, and they faced each other, eyeball to eyeball, but not as they had before, in his bedroom. There was no confrontation now, and nobody was spoiling for a fight. Ryan wasn’t trying to declare his independence, and Jake wasn’t trying to hold on to any primacy he used to have as a parent.
They were both exhausted, trapped, and full of remorse. They were bound together not only by blood and love, but by guilt and lies. They were father and son, but they were also partners in crime.
Ironically, they had never been closer.
Chapter Fourteen
It wasn’t until he got home that Jake had a chance to eat something. He stood at the granite counter and spread lumpy strawberry preserves onto semi-frozen Ezekiel bread, glancing up at the television. A cop show was on, so he looked away and finished making his sandwich. He checked the over-the-counter clock. It was 10:58 P.M., and the local news would be on any minute.
“Mrfh!” Moose barked, his round brown eyes looking hopeful, the way they did whenever peanut butter was in the vicinity.
“Here, buddy.” Jake slid his index finger along the butter knife, swiped off some peanut butter and jelly, and offered it to the dog. Moose licked it happily, his tail swishing back and forth on the floor like a windshield wiper, reminding him of last night in his car.
I love how these wipers go on automatically! Dad, this car is sick!
Jake wished to God he had said no. If he had, none of this would have happened, Kathleen would be alive, and his son would be happy and carefree. As it was, Ryan was upstairs hiding in his room and getting ready for bed, so he’d be asleep by the time Pam got home. It was the only way he could avoid her cross-examination about the flu, his homework, or how he’d spent the evening.
Suddenly there was a commotion at the front door, and Moose scampered off, barking toward the entrance hall. Jake worried that it could be the police and hurried from the kitchen.
“Honey!” Pam burst through the front door, alive with excitement. She tossed her car keys, little purse, and black shawl on the console table, and Moose wagged his tail frantically.
“Hey, hi!” Jake tried to recover. “You’re home early.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Pam closed the door behind her. “I’ve been calling and calling!”
“I didn’t hear it, sorry.” Jake must have forgotten about his phone in the rental car. “What’s up? How come you didn’t park in the garage?”
“I didn’t bother, I’m in a rush! Where’s Ryan?” Pam was already heading for the stairwell, her high heels clacking on the hardwood. “Ryan, come down! Come downstairs!”
Jake didn’t like what was going on. This wasn’t the way he planned it at all. “He might be asleep, honey. He wasn’t feeling well—”
“Oh please. He’s been on the phone for the past hour.” Pam took off her high heels and placed them on one of the steps, to be taken upstairs. “Enough with the shoes. Showtime’s over.”
“Mom, what do you want?” Ryan called from his room upstairs.
“Come down, right now!”
“I’m in bed!”
“Come down, this is important!” Pam rolled her eyes and looked at Jake with a knowing smile. “He must be talking to the girl. I checked online and he’s on G-chat, too. Did he do his homework?”
“Some of it, I think.” Jake began to worry, wondering who Ryan was talking to on the phone and online. “He didn’t feel well.”
“He has a French vocab test on Tuesday, so he has to study in advance because of the playoffs.”
“Aw, cut him a break. He’s sick. He slept most of the evening.” Jake marveled that his wife always had Ryan’s schedule in the back of her mind, running on a parallel track with her own.
“Were you born yesterday?” Pam snorted good-naturedly. “He may have been in his room, but if he was on the phone and G-chatting, he wasn’t studying or sleeping.”
“It’s hard to focus when you don’t feel well.”
“Mom, what’s going on?” Ryan appeared at the top of the stairway and walked down slowly, running his hand along the banister and blinking against the bright lights of the hanging fixture in the entrance hall. His hair was messy, and he was dressed for bed in a maroon Chasers Nation T-shirt and pajama pants.
“Come down, I want to talk to you and your dad.” Pam beamed up at him, but Ryan avoided her eye as he descended the stairs, and Jake wanted to give him the heads-up.
“Ryan, Mom says you’ve been on the phone, but I thought you were asleep. You playing possum, buddy?”
“Nah, sorry.” Ryan looked away, and Pam threw open her arms when he reached the floor and gave him a big hug.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, honey. But humor me and come into the kitchen. I really need to talk to you and your dad.”
“What about?” Ryan asked, his tone offhand, as Pam released him from her embrace, took him by the arm, and led him into the kitchen in her stocking feet, with Jake and Moose behind.