Written in 58 minutes. Conversation took a direction I didn’t mean it, too so the part is a bit shorter than I planned because I wanted to get it right.

---

Jason hesitated in the hallway outside of Jake’s room. A few hours ago, he’d stood with Elizabeth at Vista Point, confidently telling her what he wanted and bracing himself for her reaction. He’d been sure what he wanted to do was the best way forward, but uneasy about hurting her. She’d been dealt enough blows the last few days.

But now, Jason realized that had been the easiest step. Because he knew that with Elizabeth’s generous nature, the moment he’d what he wanted, she’d support him. Giving people what they wanted, what they needed — hadn’t that always been her weakness?

Now he had to face the son that was unhappy with both his parents, maybe with some good reasons, and find a way to make peace. To convince Jake that living with Jason and Danny might be the best thing for all of them.

He knocked lightly, and waited. A moment later, Jake’s voice could be heard. “I don’t want to talk, Mom.”

“It’s not your mother.”

There was silence then, and Jason wondered if Jake might just ignore him altogether. He’d come back or maybe just wait him out. Jake would have to leave the room eventually.

But then the knob twisted and Jake pulled the door open, his eyes unreadable. “What?”

Jason lifted his brows. “Can we talk?”

Jake heaved a heavy sigh, but stepped back, jerking the door all the way open. The room was just a little bare, evidence that it had been mostly deserted since he’d gone to Spain in August. A suitcase lay by the suitcase, clothing spilling out of the unzipped top. Some of the shelves were empty, and the desk was bare.

But there was a table tucked over by the windows with a large sketchpad open, pencils laying strewn over the surface, and chunks that looked similar to the charcoal Jason remembered from Elizabeth’s studio once upon a time.

Jake’s hands were a bit dingy, and he hurried over to the desk, flipping the pad shut. “Did Mom send you up here to talk to me?” he muttered.

Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That depends. Would she have a reason to?”

Jake grimaced, flopped on the edge of the bed, then stared at the carpet. “That’s a trick question, and I’m not that stupid. If she didn’t send you, then why are you here?”

“She did call me,” Jason said, sitting carefully on the desk chair after turning it to face Jake. “Because she knows I wanted to talk to you about Danny, and thought maybe you might be in the right mood to have the conversation.”

Jake snorted. “Why? I’m already pissed off, so whatever crap you’re gonna say won’t make it worse? Whatever.”

Jason waited a long moment, just long enough for Jake’s cheeks to flush, for him to raise his gaze to his father’s before he spoke again. “I know you’re not happy with me for reasons I deserve. And that you’re angry with your mother. Whether or not she deserves that — you and I aren’t going to agree on that.”

“Tell me the truth,” Jake challenged, his eyes glittering. “Did you even get mad at her for a minute when she told you she lied? Or did you do what you always do, what she always does for you and start making excuses? She likes to say she didn’t try to make me feel bad for being mad at you, but I knew she wanted me to be happy you were back. Danny wanted me to be happy, and—” He shook his head, looked away. “I don’t understand either of them. I don’t understand you, either. How can you let people walk all over you—”

“Jake, the night your mother told me you were my son, we were trapped in an elevator at the MetroCourt,” Jason interrupted, and Jake closed his mouth. “The lobby had just exploded, and it was the best I could do to get her to safety. I couldn’t get her out. I couldn’t—” He took a deep breath. “A man took the entire lobby hostage by gunpoint, including your mother. My sister was there that night. Sonny and Carly. Robin was shot and nearly died. My father had a heart attack that he died from later in the hospital. It was a long, terrible night, during which your mother nearly went into early labor. You almost didn’t exist, Jake.”

Jake swallowed hard, but didn’t look away. “Are you trying to make me feel bad?”

“No. You asked if I was angry with her. And I’m explaining why anger wasn’t the first thing I felt when she told me. We were in that elevator, waiting for help. And she felt you move. For the first time in hours, you started kicking, and she was—” Jason had to stop, take a moment, the memory of that night rushing back, the relief that had flooded his body when she’d looked at him, the joy in her eyes when she realized her baby was still alive.

“I can’t make you understand or accept how I handled the situation. Maybe I should have been more angry. I think it would be easier for your mother if I had been. She knew how to handle anger better. She expected it. Expected me to be disappointed in her. Everyone already was. When I told you about Lucky’s problems, I didn’t—” Jason leaned back, realized Jake was still listening, that he hadn’t tuned him out.

It wasn’t why he’d come here today, but if Jason could do anything to ease the tension between mother and son, it’d be worth it. “I didn’t tell you so he’d be the villain. Lucky got clean after that, and has been ever since, at least as far as I know. That matters, Jake. He got hurt in the line of duty, got addicted, and it got ugly. But he got help.”

“I guess that’s good, but—” Jake paused. “I don’t get it. If Lucky was such a bad guy, why would Mom want me to be his kid? Why wouldn’t—didn’t she think you’d be a good dad? I don’t understand. She always defends you. But not then? It doesn’t make sense to me. It doesn’t…it doesn’t fit who I thought she was. And now I keep looking at other things—”

“Other things don’t matter. And I’m not going to speak for her. Why she made the choices she did. I didn’t used to believe in regrets. You make your choices, and you stand by them, good or bad. Even when they were mistakes.” Jason leaned forward, clasping his hands his between his legs. “You know I haven’t always lived a good life. That I was on trial for murder just after you were born.”

“They brought it up when Franco died,” Jake muttered. “But you were acquitted. You didn’t do it.”

“I was acquitted,” Jason agreed, ignoring the rest of the statement. “But I was arrested shortly after you were born. Any thought I had of claiming of you, of labeling you as my son, putting that weight around your neck—” He paused. “You could be a cop’s son or a murderer’s bastard. I’ll stand by the choice I made that summer, Jake. When I thought I might never be free again, the best place for you was in a home with two parents and your brother.”

“So you don’t regret it?” Jake asked. He furrowed his brows. “You said—”

“Later. Later, I made the choice for a different reason. Your safety—not just you. All of you. Cam, your mother, you—I couldn’t stand the thought of any of you hurt. After my sister was murdered…” Jason had to look away now, at the sweet thought of his beloved sister, gone now for longer than she’d been his little sister. “We almost changed our minds. Your mother and I. We…I asked her to marry me.”

Jake pressed his lips together. “Mom…she said something the day Mr. C was here. That Michael…he got hurt.”

“It was like the world reminding me I had no right to a life,” Jason said. He looked at Jake. “Your mother wanted us to be a family. There’s nothing I wanted more than to have all of you with me. To adopt Cameron. It’s all I thought about. I proposed to her, and then five minutes later, the phone rang. Michael had been shot in the head, a bullet that had been meant for Sonny. Michael had the bad luck to be standing next to him. After that—” Jason shook his head. “I couldn’t…it was never going to happen. We…we eventually had to stop even being in the same room. For almost a year, I couldn’t even look at your mother without remembering.”

“But…you—” Jake swallowed hard. “You got married to Danny’s mom. You had Danny—”

“I made a mistake. I was too scared to hold on, and your mother was tired of waiting,” Jason told him. “And by the time I realized it—she hadn’t put her life on hold. So I tried to move on. I did for a long time. I’m not sorry I married Sam because I have Danny, and I love him. But I will regret for the rest of my life that I was too scared to hold on to you. That we lost all those years.”

“Maybe all that’s true,” Jake managed. His hands, resting in his lap, clenched into fists. “You threw away two more of those years, so—”

“It was never supposed to be two years. If I had known it would take that long, I wouldn’t have done it. I thought it was the right choice, but it was a mistake. I’ve made a lot of them.  I tried to put someone else first, tried to do what I thought was right for them. But it was wrong for me. For you and your brother. I can’t go back, Jake. None of us can. I want us to go forward. But if you’re not ready, I can accept that. It’s my fault. And if it were just that, I would give you all the time you need. Whatever boundaries you needed to set, I’ll respect them. But there’s more at stake right now.”

“You want me to stop being an asshole to Mom, don’t you? I knew you were here for her—”

“If you’re being disrespectful to your mother, yeah, I want you to stop that,” Jason interrupted and Jake made a face. “You don’t have to like what either of us did, but she and I buried it. We forgave each other, Jake. You don’t have to like it, but it’s a fact. I’m not going to apologize for not meeting your expectations of anger or resentment. But that’s not what I was here to talk about. I’m here about Danny.”

“Oh. Right. You—” Jake exhaled in an irritated sigh. “You said that. I guess you want me to stop being a dick in front of him—”

“He isn’t going to be able to stay with Scout,” Jason said, and Jake stopped again, surprised. “He isn’t ready to hear that. He thinks—he thinks I can find a way. And maybe if things were different with Drew, I could. But Dante and Rocco are already making plans to move out of the mansion. Drew’s moving to D.C. after the holidays. He isn’t going to leave Scout here, and even if he would, it wouldn’t be with me.”

“No, not after you kicked his ass,” Jake muttered. Jason lifted his brows and Jake flushed. “Everyone knows, Dad. Did you at least have a good reason?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I get to know it?”

“No.”

Jake made another face. “Worth a shot.” He was quiet for a moment. “I guess I always knew you wouldn’t be able to, and it’s not your fault. I was just…really mad at you. And at Danny. For not being mad at all. But I knew it’d be like this. That’s why I came home.”

“I know. Your mother wanted you to go back to school, but I understand why you’re here. And I’m glad. If you can really put Spain on hold, then you’re right. Having you here will help Danny adjust.”

“Oh.” Jake narrowed his eyes. “There’s a catch. Somewhere. You’re letting me off the hook too easy for being a dick, and—”

“You know how I feel about the situation with your mother, and if you do it in front of me, you’ll hear it again,” Jason said, and Jake dipped his head. “But there’s no hook, Jake. You have a right to how you feel, and I can’t change it. But we both want Danny to be okay. He’ll come live with me. I’d like it…I’d like it if you did, too.”

Jake lifted his head again, met Jason’s gaze and frowned. “What? You mean like on weekends again, like we used to? Sure.”

“No.” Now or never, Jason thought. “I want you and Danny with me full-time. Together.”

← Flash Fiction: Dear Reader – Part 17 |