Jackson shot me a look. “Did she?”
Whoopsie. I probably should have gotten permission before spilling his life story to my parents. I’d only told them because I’d needed them to understand the entire story before asking their advice. Still, it wasn’t my story to share.
Before I could apologize to Jackson, Dad spoke up. “We don’t keep secrets in this family.”
“No offense, Nate,” Jackson shot back, “but we’re not family.”
Dad’s face hardened. “Do you have feelings for my daughter?”
“Yes,” Jackson replied immediately.
“Then you’re a part of this family, and when one of us is having a hard time, we talk it through.”
Jackson slumped, knowing that Dad was talking about me. His shoulders hunched forward as the guilt from last night weighed them down.
“I think you need to confront your mother,” Mom declared. “Get it out and over with. Find out why she’s here, then you can dictate what will happen next. Right now, she has the power because she surprised you. You need to take it back.”
Mom’s direct approach might not always work when giving me advice, but it seemed right up Jackson’s alley. She was a younger version of Hazel and she was going to go all mama bear for him.
After Hazel had her five minutes with Jackson’s mother, my mom would be next in line.
“I don’t know if I should see her or not,” Jackson confessed. “Nothing good can come from her being here.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Dad shrugged. “But I wouldn’t see her because she has something to say. I’d see her because you do. This could be your chance to get some closure. You deserve that much.”
“Maybe,” Jackson mumbled. “I’ll think on it.”
“Do you think she left town?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Thea texted me this morning and said she saw her car at the motel.”
“She probably wants something,” Mom muttered. “Any idea what it could be?”
“Money?” Jackson guessed. “Maybe she thinks I have some.”
“Is there any chance she wants to make amends?” Dad asked.
Jackson stared at his coffee mug. It took him a few moments, but he murmured, “No.”
My heart broke for him, but he was right. If that woman had wanted to apologize for dumping her son in the middle of New York City to fend for himself, that would have been the first thing out of her mouth yesterday.
“I hate her,” I whispered.
The entire table’s eyes were on me, probably because I hadn’t ever said those words in my life about another person. Mom and Dad had taught me not to hate. Dislike, sure, but not hate.
I did though. I hated Jackson’s mother and I didn’t even know her name.
“What’s her name?” I asked Jackson.
“Melissa.”
“Melissa,” I repeated. “I hate her.”
I hated her for all that she’d done to break Jackson’s spirit. I hated her for abandoning him. I hated that because of her, he didn’t trust anyone. It was her fault that he’d closed off his heart.
Jackson’s hand came to my knee. “Maybe your mom is right. Maybe I should confront her. Find out what she wants. Then we can all let her go. For good.”
The concern in his eyes wasn’t for himself, but for me, because he didn’t want his burden to bring me down.
“Okay. It’s settled.” Mom stood from her chair. “Jackson, have you had breakfast? You look like you need some greasy food. I’ll make you an omelet.”
“Thanks, Betty.”
Dad stood too, grabbing Jackson’s coffee mug. “I’ll get you a refill.”
As they disappeared into the kitchen, Jackson spun in his chair. He took my face in his hands and gently kissed my forehead. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not staying mad at me even though I deserve it. For getting so worked up over my mother that you’d throw down right beside Hazel.”
“I’ve never thrown down before, but I think I could win.”
He chuckled. “I’d put my money on you.”
We both knew that was total crap. I’d never gotten violent before in my life. But I wouldn’t turn down the chance to punch Jackson’s mother in the face—or at least nod along as Hazel said some not-so-nice things.
“I’m sorry for spilling everything to my parents without asking,” I told him.
“I get it. You were upset and needed to talk. I’m just not used to sharing.”
“I know.”
“But I’m glad you did.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Feels kind of good to have the Doon family in my corner. And I think your mom is right. I need to do this on my terms. I don’t want to keep waiting for her to show back up again.”
“Do you, um . . . want me to go with you?” I wanted to be there for him, but I also understood if this was something he had to do alone.
“Would you?”
I nodded. “I’m there.”
“Thanks, babe.” He kissed my forehead again. “Maybe we can go down this afternoon. I need a nap first. I feel like shit.”
“I could use a nap too. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“That’s my fault. Sorry.”
I patted his leg. “It’s done. After breakfast, we’ll crash for a while, then wake up and start the day fresh.”
“Sounds like a plan. Though I need to work in a shower somewhere in there.”
I winked. “I’m sure we could arrange that.”
A spark of heat hit his eyes. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now.”
“Then do.”
“Not until I find a toothbrush,” he grumbled.
I giggled. “Did you know I’ve only been drunk once?”
“No shit?” he asked.
“My friends always told me that when you wake up with a hangover, you feel like a cat took a crap in your mouth. I didn’t understand that until I had too many drinks at a party my freshman year and blacked out.”
“Blacked out?” His mouth turned down. “I don’t like the idea of you drinking so much you blacked out.”
“Me neither.”
Because the night I had gotten drunk had been the night Leighton had been assaulted. Maybe I could have prevented it if I hadn’t guzzled jungle juice for an hour. Maybe it would have been me instead. The two of us had gone over that night time and time again without answers. Finally, we’d agreed to leave it in the past and neither of us had had the desire to drink heavily again.
“It was my one and only party,” I told Jackson. “I haven’t been drunk since.”
“I think you’re on to something. I feel like death,” he moaned.
I cupped his stubbled cheek. “I’ll make you feel better.”
“You already did.” With a quick grab, he yanked me out of my chair and into his lap. Then he buried his face in my neck as his arms held me tight.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder as he breathed into my hair. I don’t know how long we sat like that, but I’d almost fallen asleep in his arms when I heard my parents.
“Just let them be,” Dad whispered.
“What about his breakfast?” Mom whispered back.
“Willa will take care of him.”
And I would.
It hadn’t been hard to track down my mother. Like Thea had written in her text, Mom’s green sedan was in the lot of the motel.
The car was a hell of a lot nicer than the one I remembered from my childhood. But I guess when you got rid of your kid, your expenses dropped and you could afford a newer vehicle.
I didn’t want to explain to the motel owners why I needed Melissa Page’s room number, so with Willa at my side, I parked my truck in the lot and walked up to the door directly in front of her car. The motel was fairly empty this time of year and even if I knocked on a few wrong doors, it was worth the hassle so people in town wouldn’t know who Mom was.
With a deep breath and a glance over my shoulder at Willa, I pounded on the door. Behind it, someone shuffled and mumbled before it swung open.
“Jackson.” Mom looked me up and down before doing the same with Willa. “Finally decided to talk to me?”