“Oh, I didn’t know you were out of town.” It’s a stupid thing to say, given that I know nothing about his life right now.
“A few record executives are in town. They expect Piper Rose’s new album to go platinum, which apparently warrants free lunch.”
“I didn’t think there was such a thing as a free lunch,” I say as my thoughts drift to the song I’d heard on the radio.
“It wasn’t,” he said. “As it turns out, they want me back in Los Angeles. They want to contract me entirely to Estate Records, which means slaving away in their studio.”
“That’s amazing,” I force the words out of my mouth. My happiness for him tastes more bitter than sweet.
We fall silent then, and I reach for my glass. Once again, I find myself clutching a cup like a life preserver. I'm right where I was the day we met, but this time I don't have the buffer of a support group.
“Are you going to go?” I finally ask when he doesn’t offer up any more details. I don’t know what I want his answer to be.
“I haven’t really decided,” he admits. Reaching up, he tugs the knot of his tie loose and pulls it free of his neck. “Right now there’s nothing keeping me here.”
I run my finger down my glass, drawing a line through the condensation. “I suppose not.”
That might change after what I’m about to tell him, or worse, he could decide to take Max with him to Los Angeles. If he chooses to get the law involved, he might destroy the fragile root system I’ve planted here.
“Christ, tell me I have a reason to stay, Faith.” As soon as he says her name, he clamps his mouth shut.
“It’s okay,” I say automatically. “I still find myself saying Faith when people ask my name, but I’m learning.”
He needs to know that I’m trying. I want him to know that I’m not just some crazy whack job who took custody of his child. “I’m seeing a therapist and we’re working through it. I’m carrying my own driver’s license. I even went to see where they buried Faith.”
Jude’s hand begins to creep across the table, but then he stops. I don’t know what’s more awkward: the thought of him comforting me or that he’s too cautious to try.
“I told you once that you didn’t have to tell me your sad story,” he says, “and what I’m about to ask is going to undermine that, but I have to know why.”
Now’s my opportunity to tell him the whole story—to lay out the puzzle pieces face up so that he can see the big picture. Maybe if I’m lucky, he’ll fit them together without making me actually say the words.
“Faith showed up a few years back. She was struggling to get clean, and she was pregnant,” I tell him. “At first, I thought everything was going to work out. Nana was already in assisted care, and I was working three jobs. Having Faith back seemed like a blessing.”
“But…” he prompts.
“After the baby was born, she couldn’t handle the stress. We didn’t know then that Max was deaf and that his condition might have contributed to his fussiness. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise given her history with drugs. One morning I woke up and she was gone.”
“And she just left him with you?” Disgust colors Jude’s tone. He slumps back against the seat, shaking his head.
“She wasn’t healthy, Jude,” I tell him. He opens his mouth to protest my clarification, but I stop him. “That’s not an excuse. It’s just the reality of the situation.”
“What made you come here?”
“She came back for Max with some guy she was sleeping with. He had bad news written all over him. She told me that she had to prove to him that Max wasn’t his son.”
“That’s an odd problem to have.” His words are strained, and I wonder if he suspects how this story ends. My sweet, broken Jude, who so desperately wants to collects all the damaged bits of people and make them whole. Of course he’s hoping for a happy ending.
“His wife had left him, probably because he was sleeping with Faith,” I say. “Hindsight is 20/20, after all. He wasn’t her dealer, but he was certainly enabling her.”
“Do you honestly think that’s why his wife left him?”
“What other reason did she have?” I point out. “In this day and age, most women don’t leave a man who wants to raise his children without a good reason.”
“I don’t know. Some people can’t forgive when they’ve been wronged.”
I’m left to wonder what Jude Mercer thinks is an unforgivable wrong.
“Faith showed up at the apartment, snatched Max out of bed. I could tell she was on coke. All the signs were there. Then there’s this guy Jason, and he takes one look at Max and says, ‘Well, he can’t be mine.’
“How did he know?”
I swirl my straw in my water. “Let’s say it was obvious.”
“Did Faith ever tell you who Max’s father was?”
I shake my head, swallowing hard. That is the truth. Faith never gave me a name. I discovered who he was on my own. “I convinced them that I needed to get his stuff together, and they left to go back to their hotel.”