He took a swig and set it on the wet earth.
“So, uh. Guess what? I have a kid on the way. Really stinking soon, too.” The words felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else. He let out a breath. “A whole entire human that’s gonna be looking to me for…whatever kids need.” He snorted. “Everything, I guess. I mean, assuming I meet Carly’s exacting standards.”
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine his mother’s face. What would it look like today? Would she have any gray hair or wrinkles? Probably not. She was magic like that. Plus, she was a TV reporter, so she’d have probably done the tricks to keep her looks.
But what would she say? Would her green eyes go wide with shock? Would she make that squeaky noise when something excited her and insist she be called “Gramma Missy” from this day on?
“Anyhoo, can you imagine that? Me, a dad?” He huffed out a laugh, bitter and small. “Yeah, me neither.”
He ran a hand through his rain-drenched hair, frustration bubbling under his skin.
“Carly says I have to get my life together if I want to be in the baby’s life. And she’s right. But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to be anything but a screw-up.” He exhaled sharply, his hands clenching into fists. “I spent the last fifteen years running, and I don’t even know what from anymore.”
The lump in his throat swelled, tight and unrelenting. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Now I ran again,” he admitted. “’Cause wasn’t this just the perfect excuse not to go to an interview that could change my life? Not to fail? I can’t do it without you, Mom. A chef? Can you imagine? And a kid that’s going to be born in a matter of weeks?What am I gonna do, Mom?”
The sob escaped, ripping his chest open.
Crap, he was slobbering now, but who cared? Call it rain. Call it pain. Call it a kid who was unfairly cheated out of the best mother in the world.
“I miss you so much,” he managed. “I can’t even tell you how much. Same today as fifteen years ago.It never gets better.It’s just a hole, Mom. A fat, empty hole where you should be. I know I’m a man and I should grow up and accept this. But I was a kid, and I feel like everything stopped—everything—when you died. I don’t know how to start it again.”
A gust of wind cut through the cemetery, sending rustling branches and spring leaves around him. Jonah wiped his face, forced himself to breathe.
He couldn’t eat anymore, so he stuffed the sandwich and drink back in his bag and swiped his face again, the denim scratching his cheek.
“I’m going back to California,” he said gruffly, hearing the defiance in his voice. “I mean, the baby’s coming in a coupla weeks. I know she doesn’t want me there, but I’ll just…try. I know, it’s a dumb move, but hey, I’m famous for those.”
He shifted on the grass, soaked to the bone now and not caring.
“I’m not going to be a chef! What the heck am I thinking? And now that I’ve pulled this stunt, I guarantee Dad’s done coddling me. And Kate…” He made a face. “Yeah, you don’t know about Kate. She’s…”
How would she feel if she knew Dad might have found someone? Knowing her? She’d have approved.
“She’s pretty cool,” he said. “But I’m?—”
He heard movement, footsteps, leaves rustling. He swallowed his sentence, dreading the idea of coming face-to face-with Aunt Emily or, God forbid, Meredith.
After what she did to help him find that Culinary Arts program? Miss Perfection would blast?—
“Jonah!”
Swearing under his breath, he stood and peered through the rain at two figures sprinting toward him, drenched and frantic.
“Jonah!”
Kate’s voice hit first, breathless and sharp with urgency. Eli was right beside her, his father—always composed, always put together—looking like he had just run through a hurricane. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his jacket dripping.
Jonah sighed, already knowing why they were here. “You didn’t have to come looking for me.”
“Yes, we did,” Eli shot back, his breath coming in heavy puffs. “You have an interview in five hours and forty-five minutes.”
“Yeah, I’m going to miss it.”
“No, Jonah.” Kate’s voice cut through his excuse, sharp but not unkind as she ran ahead and reached him first. “No, you are not.”
The vehemence took his breath away more than the fact that the two of them had come all the way here to…save him. She was furious and determined and, good God, she reminded him of the woman six feet under where they were standing.
Not in looks, personality, or anything but…mom-ness.
