by Odette Stone
“Time. Out. Time fucking out," I yelled.
I walked as fast as I could back to our house. I was so hurt, so devastated by the entire experience, I couldn’t even think. I slammed into the house and paced in the kitchen.
This marriage was a colossal mistake. Apparently, Jackson still wanted Harper. I was the third wheel in my own marriage. What was I even doing here? He had committed to me, but he didn’t want to be with me.
The front door slammed, and then Jackson was striding into the house behind me.
“Sit,” he pointed at the kitchen table.
“My time out isn’t over yet,” tears leaked out of my eyes.
He stood staring at me, his arms crossed. My time out was over. I walked over to the table and sat down feeling defeated.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, with his arms crossed over his hard chest.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy, you know that?” His words were measured. As if he was trying to control himself.
“This marriage isn’t real,” I informed him.
He gave a half laugh. “Sweetheart, this is about as real as it gets.”
“This marriage was a big mistake.”
He pushed off the counter and walked away from me. His hands were on his hips. He looked up at the ceiling. This was his calm down move.
“I saw the two of you together.” Words blurted out of me.
He turned and looked at me.
“I watched her approach you at the BBQ. How you did the big double looks at her, and you couldn’t stop staring at her. And she put her hand on your arm, and you just smiled down at her with that look on your face.”
He scrubbed one big hand over his face. “Jesus.”
Neither of us spoke. Finally, he did.
“Harper and I have a lot of history.”
“She loves you, and I think you love her.”
“Just stop.”
He walked away from me, running both his hands through his hair. He turned towards me. “I’m trying so hard here, Emily, I really am.”
“Why are you trying?” I threw my hands up in frustration.
“Because we’re married.”
“We don’t have to be,” my voice was surprisingly calm.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck.” He glowered. “How come you get under my skin so bad? No one can drive me fucking insane quite like you can.”
“Well just go back to perfect Harper then. You two are so in love, and you obviously miss each other so much. Just leave me out of it.”
He looked absolutely speechless for a moment. His hands were on his hips, and he just stared at me. “No.”
“What?”
“No. You and I are married.”
“Jackson.”
He pointed at me. “You committed to me. Before the court of law, you vowed your commitment.”
We stared at each other.
“What do you want from me?” he sounded bewildered. “Just tell me.”
I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to want Alien and me in his life. I wanted him to not still love Harper. I wanted to know this man who stood before me. The man who knew how to play baseball. The soldier who killed snakes in the river. The man that everyone seemed to know except me.
The silence was broken by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He momentarily shut his eyes and then picked up his phone.
“Hunter…..yup….got it….yup.”
He tossed his phone on the counter. “I just got called into work.”
All the fight went out of me. I bowed my head. “Okay.”
He walked over and sat down kitty-corner from me. “I’ll be gone two weeks max. It isn’t our mission. We're just providing tertiary support.”
I nodded. Feeling so unbelievably bad.
He leaned forward in his chair and grabbed my hands in his. “We’re not done with this conversation. I need you to be here when I get home.”
I stared sadly at him.
“Emily,” he said softly. “Can you do that for me?”
I nodded.
He let out a big breath. “Thank you.”
I remained at the kitchen table. Then Jackson was coming down the stairs, wearing his fatigues and carrying his duffle bag. He looked impossibly big and tough.
He stood looking at me for a long moment. “Remember your promise.”
I wondered, for the hundredth time, why he worked so hard to keep me here. He stood looking at me for a long moment and then he was gone.
I sat at that kitchen table for a long time while questions battled my mind. Was I doing the right thing? Was I crazy to stay here? Why did he even want me to stick around? It was so obvious he loved her. I did not understand Jackson. He was still such a mystery to me.
You know when you know that you shouldn’t do something, but you do it anyway? I’m not going to defend my actions or justify them in any way. I grabbed a flashlight and walked upstairs. I needed a chair to pull the stairs down from the attic. It took me 45 minutes, but I finally found where Jackson had hidden the journal.
I needed to find out more about my husband.
(Journal of Harry Jarvais)
February 9, 1998 - Jackson and Matt are both ten years of age. Jackson spends close to half his time with us. Matt and Jackson play like brothers, but Irene is a bitch in her treatment of Jackson. The other day, I came home early from work and without any of them knowing I was there, I stood and watched the three of them at the dinner table. Matt deliberately knocked over Jackson’s milk when Irene was not looking. Irene walked over to Jackson and slapped him hard across the face, and she said, “You’re a hateful, horrible child. There is a reason why no one can love you.” Instead of intervening, I walked back out of the house.
February 2, 2001 - Three years have passed. Irene’s verbal slights towards Jackson are hard to stomach.
“Jackson you're not a nice person.”
“Jackson, only people who are worthy of love, get loved. Learn to be worthy.”
“Jackson, no one is ever going to love you in life if you continue to be so bad.”
He is 13 years old and completely untouchable. When she speaks, it's as if he doesn’t hear her. I watch him so close, for any flinch, any reaction from him, but it's as if she is speaking on a frequency he doesn’t hear. He doesn’t defy her with his looks anymore. He carries on with whatever he is doing as if she isn’t speaking. I’m not sure he's capable of feeling emotion. Perhaps all the violence he experienced as a child made him incapable of emotion.
July 9, 2003 - Something shocking happened today. Two gentlemen claiming to be Jackson’s baseball coaches appeared at our house after dinner. Apparently, Jackson has been playing baseball since he was six. The two men told us that Jackson was gaining a lot of interest with scouts. I told them that Ted was their legal guardian and he should be the one consulted.
July 15, 2003 - I couldn’t help myself. I attended one of Jackson’s baseball games. Jackson was exceptional. What shocked me further was watching Ted in the stands. He was completely sober and looked as cleaned up as I have ever seen him. He kept track of statistics on a pad, and he called out encouraging words to all the players, all of whom he knew by name. I could see his hands. He was shaking. It costs him a lot to be sober for this, but he was doing it. After the game, Jackson walked over to Ted, and they sat down and looked at his pad of paper. Together they discussed the statistics. I felt a sense of loss that I didn’t understand. Without either of them seeing me, I left.
September 5, 2003 - Jackson is 15 and spends more and more time with Ted. There have been almost no trips to the hospital. Ten days ago, when the familiar address came over the CB radio, my heart stopped. Domestic disturbance. I was the first one on the scene, and I was shocked to see that it was Jackson sitting on the couch. Ted was hospitalized for three days. I hustled Jackson out of there, but it was a lucky escape. If anyone had caught Jackson there, it'd have been a huge mark agai
nst him and my family. We don’t need people asking questions.
October 10, 2003 - Jackson and Ted fought again. This time he didn’t even call the cops, he just called me. Jackson told me that Ted had threatened to come to my house and hurt Irene and Matt. Something has to be done. Someone is going to get hurt and I’m going to make sure that is isn’t my wife or my son.
October 24, 2003 - Ted came into the drunk tank tonight, completely incoherent. I waited until it was the middle of the shift and no one was around. Using my baton, I hit Ted on the back of the head. He wasn’t breathing. I rolled him onto the floor onto his back. His body was discovered during shift change. They ruled it an accident. Now on top of being a liar, a cheater, and a person who has forsaken his own child, I have also become a murderer.
October 25, 2003 - I brought Jackson out to the porch after dinner. I calmly told him that Ted had fallen in the drunk tank and had died. Jackson’s reaction shocked me. He sat there and stared at me for a long time and then he cried. I've never once seen him cry. Even when he was a tiny child with broken bones, enduring incredible pain, he never shed a single tear. He has been so hard to read, so unemotional all these years, that I believed that he was incapable of emotion. I've never seen him lose his temper. I've never seen him get angry or upset. He's never lost control.
I sat there while he wept, inconsolable and unable to speak. For some reason, I thought that he'd be happy. This deep, intense sorrow baffled me.
He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to be left alone. I told Matt and Irene not to disturb him.
October 26, 2003 - Jackson was gone when we woke up. He left no note. Four days before his 16th birthday and he has disappeared.
October 30, 2003 - Today Jackson turned 16. He's still missing. For someone as quiet and silent as him, the house seems empty without him. He seems to have sucked all the life out of our family. None of us wanted him. Some of us loved to hate him, and now that he's gone, it feels like we don’t know what to do with ourselves. Once again, I’m driving the streets every single night, looking for someone I’m not sure I want back. All I know is that I won’t stop looking for Jackson. History seems to repeat itself.
December 21, 2003 - When we woke up, Jackson was home. He never said anything about where he'd been, and we didn’t ask. I think we were all so glad that he was back, we just went back to pretending that he hadn’t left. The house seems lighter with him in it. As I write this, I can hear him and Matt talking as they play ping-pong in the garage. The house appears to have come alive again. I don’t understand my feelings nor do I want to. But I feel like somehow along the way I have made the worst mistake of my life.
January 31, 2004 - Something has changed in Jackson. He's withdrawn. He told me that he's no longer interested in playing sports. We've had no less than four coaches show up at our house, but he's indifferent. He will not play. He will not try out for teams. He said he'd rather work. He got a job at a local garage working as an assistant mechanic. He seems to spend all his time there working. His marks are exceptional. It feels like he is in mourning. He's pulled away from us, and everyone in the family can feel it. Somehow he's learned to retreat behind some invisible wall. He’s as untouchable as I remember his mother to be. My anger that I held onto all these years has faded to deep pain. I feel a sense of loss that I can’t understand.
October 30, 2005 - Jackson turned 18 today. In the eleven years that he has been part of our family, not once do I recall us ever celebrating his birthday. Irene baked him a cake. He sat there and looked at the candles with an impossible-to-read expression on his face. He cut the cake, dutifully handed us all pieces and we ate together. Then he announced that he had joined the navy. He politely thanked both Irene and myself for our charity.
At the door, he looked at me for a long moment. Then we shook hands, and he walked out of the house. I'm sitting here with my scotch, and I feel a sense of loss that is so big it's hard to comprehend. We all know that he's not coming back.
November 4, 2008 - It has been three years since we've seen Jackson. He left a teenager and came back a man. He towered over me. I took him out on my boat to fish. I didn't dare to tell him that I was his father. But I did apologize for allowing him to live with Ted and get hurt by that man’s hands. I told him that I should've had him live with us full-time and that I should've been a better father to him. I asked him to forgive me. And asked him if he had it in his heart to give me another chance to be his surrogate father.
He just stared at me, with those eyes. And he didn’t speak for the longest time.
Then when he spoke to me, he talked to me like a man.
He said, “Ted was a messed up, fucked up loser who couldn’t keep his shit together if he tried but he was a thousand times more the father you ever were to me. You had me in your home half of the time, but Ted made more of an effort with me in a single day than you made with me in 11 years. You had your chance. My father is dead, and he died in a drunk tank.”
When we got back home, he packed up his gear and with a polite apology to Irene, he left our home without once making eye contact.
November 11, 2008 - I look back on the last 21 years of my life, and all I see is how much I wasted. How much I lost. Jackson, despite my intentions, turned out to be a remarkable human being. He was right. I had my chance. I had my chance with him. I had my chance with his mother. Tonight, after Irene goes to bed, I’m going to drink several glasses of my best scotch. I’m going to smoke that cigar that I have been saving. And then I’m going to take 10 of my heart medication pills that I'm reasonably certain will stop my heart. Although I’m pretty sure it stopped beating the night Melody left me.
(Letter to Jackson from Harry)
Jackson,
I’m sorry I was such a coward. I’m sorry I never admitted that you were my son. I don’t blame you for not forgiving me. It was an unfair request. You need to know that I loved your mother, Melody, with all my heart. She was the most intoxicating woman I have ever met in my life. And I should have never let her go. I should have never let either of you go. Not a day has passed that I haven’t thought about how different the circumstances of your life and mine would have been if I had been more courageous in my life.
This journal is yours. Even if you don’t want it, even if you don’t read it - it’s yours to do with as you wish. I have two (possibly unfair) requests of you.
First, please remove this journal and don't let Irene or Matt know the truth about me. I think my death will be traumatic enough for them, finding out that I'm an adulterer and a murderer would only do more damage. I have also included the DNA records that prove that you are my son. Although it seems unfair that I give you proof and then ask you not to share that with anyone.
My second request is that you find it in your heart to be a son to Irene and a brother to Matt. I know that Irene has treated you reprehensibly. She's a cold woman, and she's hard to love, but I know that in her way she loves you. Please don’t abandon her. And Matt, I’m afraid takes after his mother (but better her than myself.) He tends to be selfish and controlling. I think you were a very good influence on him. I hope you find it in your heart to be their rock. They'll need you. Never doubt that.
I could have destroyed this journal and these records, and you'd have never been the wiser, but I'm tired of the lies and tired of this burden I have carried for so long.
So I pass on to you these records. This is the account of your life before you might remember it.
Jackson, you have grown up to be a man that makes me proud. You live with courage and strength, and I think Melody would have been so proud of you. I don’t know if you remember your mother, but you are the spitting image of her. Never forget that she chose you. She put your life first. She loved you. You reminded me of her every single day. And you bore my grief every single day too. And for that, I apologize with my entire heart.
Your loving father,
Harry Jarvais
Chapter 24
I couldn�
��t believe what I had just read. I now understood why Jackson had hidden this journal. Holy fuck. Matt’s father had murdered Ted in cold blood. I felt sick to my stomach. Horrified. Even worse was the realization that I had read this journal without Jackson’s permission and the considerable magnitude of that fact overwhelmed me. He must never find out that I had read this.
My heart nearly broke over the idea of a 15-year-old Jackson, crying over Ted’s death. Ted’s tyrannical physical abuse over Jackson was inexcusable, but he had also managed to somehow form a bond with him at the same time. It staggered me that Ted had attended every single one of Jackson’s baseball games and made sure that he was sober for all of them. It appeared that Ted had been the only adult in Jackson’s life who had attempted to parent him.
I tried to remember everything that Matt had told me about his father, Harry Jarvais. He spoke so highly of him. The stern yet loving police officer who seemed so reserved in his feelings, however, showed his love in odd ways towards Matt. At the same time, he allowed his other son to be at the hands of not one but two abusers, and he stood back and did nothing to stop it. For a fierce moment, I was glad that he was dead. If he was alive, there's no way I'd be able to forgive him.
Don’t even get me started on wicked Irene who was as evil and cold-hearted as they came. The things she said to Jackson, the way she spoke to him. Her heartless, callous abuse towards Jackson had been difficult to read. She was as bad as Ted, if not worse in her psychological warfare against such a young boy.
Dear God. It explained so much about Jackson. His only defense against her bullying had been to have absolutely no reaction at all. The only way he could endure her reign of terror was just to pretend it wasn’t happening. Now as an adult, when Jackson faced intense situations, he had the stunning ability to turn off all his emotions and not react on any level, leaving in his wake an indifferent and impassive soldier, ready to take action. Now I understood why. He had years of practice.
