by Odette Stone
September 22, 1993 - It has been six months since I found Melody in that bathtub. Tonight I responded to a call about an out of control drunk man screaming at his apartment. As we were pulling away in the patrol car, he said, “Don’t forget the kid.”
I volunteered to go back up to that shit apartment and take a look. I nosed around the place. It was a filthy putrid dump not fit for a human to live in. Under the bed was the smallest child you could imagine. Big eyes, dirty. Staring at me with defiance. He carried a tiny little tin box which he refused to give up. We took him back to the station. Other than being filthy he looked healthy to me. He fell asleep on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room.
It was sheer curiosity that led me to look in that tin box after he had fallen asleep. And that is the moment that my life changed for the worse. Inside was a tin solider, one marble, a gum wrapper and a photo of my precious beautiful Melody holding a baby. On the back it said one word, “Jackson”. I felt sick to my stomach. This was Melody’s child. I needed to make sure he wasn’t mine. I bribed him with a hot chocolate if he let me swab his cheek. I swabbed my own, wrote up a fake report around the testing and sent it to the DNA lab.
December 19, 1993 - The paternity test with the kid was positive. Melody hadn’t terminated. The kid under the bed was mine.
December 26, 1993 - I have been stalking my own child. I drive past the apartment in which I found him and twice now I have seen Jackson playing by himself. He seems impervious to the cold. I have never seen him with toys or other children. He just talks to himself and is in his own world.
I can’t believe that Melody left me so that she could have this child. I know it sounds irrational, but Jackson, this snotty-nosed kid is the reason Melody left me. She chose HIM over me. I know it is not reasonable thinking, but I hate this kid with my entire heart. Because of him, I lost her. There are moments when the rage in my heart is so black and so dark I want to hurt him as badly as his mother hurt me. She left me. So my response is that I am going to forget about him and leave him in the gutter that he deserves to be in.
January 28, 1994 - He is back. Jackson is back sleeping in the waiting room of our station. He is wary of me. He seems half starved. I gave him my lunch. His green eyes remind me so much of Melody. I want to slap his face for having part of her in him. I hate him. I sound stupid to even write that down but that is honestly how I feel. Hatred.
February 12, 1994 - I can’t seem to stop obsessing over Jackson. I drive by his school. I check up regularly on him and Ted. When Ted is sober, he’s an incompetent completely useless guardian but harmless as well. He gets Jackson to school and once I saw Ted carry Jackson on his shoulders on the way home from school.
Today I saw them playing tag in the park. Jackson was running away from Ted, laughing so hard, head thrown back. In that moment I saw his mother. He had the same carefree joy that you want to capture but you can’t. That freedom that you long for but it is so elusive. When I see him, I just feel anger and despair.
Feb 28, 1994 - Irene is livid with me. For reasons I don’t understand myself I brought Jackson home with me while Ted slept off yet another drunk in the tank. Jackson fought me tooth and nail, screaming, biting and fighting when I took him away from the police station. He was like a savage little wild animal. His eyes, they haunt me. When he looks at me - I see only her.
April 9, 1994 - Jackson has become a regular feature in our home. I can tell that Irene hates this child who just stares back at her. Nothing seems to bother him. He sees everything, he says nothing. Irene says that he creeps her out, but his big green-eyed stare reminds me so much of Melody. My obsession with him rages on. So does my self hatred.
August 19, 1994 - Tonight a domestic disturbance at Ted’s. The scene we found reminded me of the first night I found Melody. Ted was a raving lunatic. It took three of us to restrain him. I found Jackson beneath an overturned table. There was so much blood, I initially thought he was dead. Somehow this kid survived a beating that most grown men would not have.
The doctors were devastated by his injuries but they believe he will make a full recovery. One doctor told me that he was going to call social services. I stepped in. I can not let Jackson be taken away. He would be lost to me if he went into the system. He is my last connection to her. I told them I would handle it, but I didn’t make any calls.
July 15, 1995 - Jackson has been living with us on and off for a year. Every time Ted goes ballistic, Jackson ends up in the hospital. I will admit that kid is tough as nails. Ted is as violent as they get. I feel a certain measure of guilt as an officer of the law that I am allowing such brutality to occur to a child, but then I take one look at his baby face and all I see is Melody. There is a small sick part of me that hopes maybe one time he won’t make it through one of Ted’s beatings. He is my curse, my ball and chain, my obsession. Every time he gets out of the hospital, he comes home to live with us. And when he heals, he starts to repeatedly ask to return to Ted. Like a broken record until we give in. It is our sick pattern and we are stuck in it.
December 12, 1995 - Irene has accepted that Jackson is here to stay. She is dutiful in feeding him and giving him all the necessities of life that I know he isn’t getting from Ted, but that is all she gives him. She has no emotion, no feeling, no care in her heart for Jackson. All her love she lavishes on Matt. She doesn’t even look at Jackson.
Irene either ignores Jackson completely or she criticizes him. “Jackson, learn to be nice. Why can’t you be nice like Matt? You’re not a nice boy.” “Jackson you’re so bad. You will be completely unlovable if you don’t start being a better boy.” “Jackson, I don’t even know why we bother with you.”
Jackson watches Irene and sometimes myself with those eyes - those eyes that drive me crazy - but he never reacts. He takes what is given to him and he asks for nothing more.
He displays none of the normal emotions of a child. He never cries. He never gets mad. He never shows frustration or impatience or fear. I hear him laughing with Matt but around me or Irene he is just silent and impermeable.
Chapter 20
Holy shit. I put the journal down. Jackson was Harry’s son? That meant that Jackson was Matt’s half brother. This is why Harry had brought Jackson to live with them. My mind was absolutely blown away with what I had just read.
“Emily,” Jackson’s voice sounded from downstairs. I startled in shock, horrified that I was sitting on the bed, reading this private journal. I scrambled to put the journal back in the envelope and then I dropped it back in the bottom of the box. With haste, I started to fold the clothes and shove them back in the box. I could hear Jackson coming up the stairs. He would know that I had been through this box. His packing was immaculate.
Doing the only thing I could think of, I picked up the box and dumped everything back on the bed just as he appeared at the door.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“I’m just finishing up,” I said, looking up at him, pretending not to notice the envelope that had fallen out of the box. The envelope that contained the journal that I had just read. The journal that stated he was Matt’s half brother.
He walked towards me. He captured my face in his hands and then my world was spinning with the kiss he was planting on me. I felt myself melt against him, as his fingers pushed roughly through my hair, yanking my head back.
He lifted his head. “You still pissed?”
Not after that kiss. I swear my knees were wobbling. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, unable to read the expression on his face.
“Are you?”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Let me finish up in here. Then we can go out for dinner.”
My mind was racing. He didn’t want me to see the envelope that was now lying on top of the clothes I had just dumped out. This was proof that I had crossed a line that I should not have crossed. I had broken Jackson’s trust. Guilt. I should just confess that I had read it. I should tell him right there. I
“Okay.”
An arm around my waist yanked me hard against him. “You need to learn to finish our conversations.”
“You need to learn to give me time outs,” I shot back.
“Why?”
“Sometimes I need time to think.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “That’s fair.”
His response stunned me. I was used to Matt, who came at me so fast and furious, my only way out had been to walk out. Matt would have never agreed to give me a time out.
“Okay,” I said warily, not quite believing him.
He dropped another kiss on my mouth. “Why don’t you go hang out with Chloe in the backyard. It’s a beautiful afternoon. I’ll be down as soon as I’m done here.”
He was going to remove the journal away from my prying eyes. God. Why was I such a coward? If there was ever a moment that I should tell him I read his journal, it was right now.
“Sure,” I said easily. “See you down there.”
***
Jackson took me to a seafood restaurant that had a big wooden balcony that overlooked the ocean.
“Tell me about private school.”
“What?” My eyes flew to his face.
“You told me once that you went to private school and you were miserable.”
“Why do you want to know?”
He tipped his beer bottle and took a sip. “Just curious.”
I looked out over the blue waves that crashed against the shore. “After my parents died, I went to live with my granny. Everything was a shock. Living in New York. Being taken away from my home, my friends, my school. My granny had a lot of connections. She got me into one of the most exclusive schools in New York.”
“What was that like?”
“Terrifying. These girls had been together since preschool. Needless to say, I was an outcast from the moment I arrived.”
“What happened?”
I started to shred my coaster. “It was just bad.”
He leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. Waiting for me to continue.
“They left mean notes in my locker. Gossiped about me. Mocked me.” I flushed as I remembered coming out of the gym shower in my towel and all my clothes had been taken. “Awful pranks, like really mean. Food trays in the cafeteria would accidentally get dumped on me. Any chance they could find to humiliate me, they took it.”
“Where were the teachers?”
“They looked the other way.”
“What?”
“You have to understand. These kids were the brats of congressmen, judges and high ranking lawyers. They had as much power as their parents did just because of who their parents were.”
“Jesus, Em. What did your granny do when you told her?”
I took a deep breath. “I didn’t tell her. I was so devastated by my parents death and so traumatized by everything that was going on around me, I just endured it. She took my silence and my sadness as just part of my grieving process.”
“Why didn’t you tell her?”
“I didn’t think she could do anything.”
“What happened?”
“Beth happened. She wasn’t exactly top of the food chain at that school but she held her own. She watched and saw what was going on. She tried to befriend me but at that point, I trusted no one. So, she started gathering evidence. Enough to incriminate the three worst ringleaders. And she went to the head mistress and made a complaint.”
“Did it stop?”
“Nope. I guess the head mistress shut her down and threatened to expel Beth.”
“No shit.”
“So, she showed up at the club where my granny played bridge and told her everything.”
His eyes widened in admiration. “I always knew I liked Beth.”
“My granny nearly lost her mind. That is when I realized just how connected my granny was. By the time she was done, the headmistress and two teachers were fired and four of the worst perpetrators were expelled.”
“Your granny was a force.”
I nodded slowly. “She knew everything about everyone. She didn’t like to play the game, but when she did, she played it well.”
“Did you leave that school?”
“No. I graduated there. After that, I was hands off. No one so much as looked at me funny. Plus, I had Beth. After that, we became fast friends.”
He leaned back, his arms crossed. Thinking. “Beth drives a shit Corolla that is older than my truck. Why was she attending that school?”
“Beth’s dad is one of the most powerful people in New York. He’s a billionaire and incredibly connected.”
His eyes opened wider. “And she drives a Corolla?”
“She loves her parents but she refuses to take a single penny from either of them.”
“Why?”
“Too many strings. Her dad uses money to control everyone and everything. Beth just got sick of it. So she made her own way in life and it absolutely drives her father crazy.”
He took another sip of his beer. “That’s the world you come from?”
I shrugged, “Not if I can help it. But I have no interest in private preschools.”
“Fair.”
The waitress dropped our plates off. We ate in silence for awhile. The food was simple but delicious.
I hesitated over my question. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why the navy?”
“It was something to do.”
I lifted my shoulder, not buying it. “Something to do?”
“I came out of high school and I couldn’t exactly stay bunked up with Matt’s parents. College was expensive. It seemed like a challenge.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
He took another sip of his beer. “Boot camp sucked.”
“So why a navy SEAL?”
“I wanted to see if I could make it through the training.”
“What was the training?”
“First they put you through a physical prep school which is eight weeks. If you pass that, you move onto 24 weeks of basic underwater demolition/SEAL training. Three weeks of jump school, and then 26 weeks of SEAL qualification training.”
“What does that involve?”
“Why do you want to know this?”
“Just curious.”
“In SQT, you learn weapons, close-quarter combat, demolitions, medical skills, cold weather training, survival, evasion, resistant and escape training.”
It all sounded scary and bad. “And then you are a SEAL?”
“Then we do another 18 months of individual training, unit training and then task group training.”
My stupid heart was pounding. “And then they send you to fight?”
“Emily,” he gave me a mild look.
“What does Harper do?”
There was a small flinch near his eye. “She’s part of logistics. The command center feeds us intel.”
“Does she go into the field with you?”
“Sometimes she’s part of the mobile base command center.”
Unable to stop myself, I blurted out. “She’s beautiful.”
He just looked back at me. His expression blank.
“Maybe you rushed into all of this and you want to be with her?” I swallowed hard. “I want you to be happy. I think Alien would too.”
He crossed his arms. “I committed to you. I told you I would make this marriage work.”
I knew that he had committed to me out of obligation. I never knew how bad that would make me feel. Yet, here I was, unable to walk away from what he was offering, even though I knew that somewhere down the line, he would break my heart completely.
“I know you don’t feel the same way,” I blurted out. “I know that and I know I should leave but I can’t. Not unless you leave me first.”
He stiffened. “No one is leaving anyone.”
A long pause hung between us. I took a deep breath, “I’m sorry if my feelings make you uncomfortable.”
“Do I seem uncomfortable to you?”
“Sometimes.”
Now it was his turn to look out over the ocean. His expression preoccupied. He took another sip of his beer and looked back at me. “How’s your dinner?”
Chapter 21
The following week passed quickly. Jackson told me that he was on standby. He said they spent their days either working out or preparing their equipment for their next deployment. I spent my days unpacking the rest of the boxes and making our house look like a home.
Had anything been resolved or magically fixed? Not even close, but we fell into an easy rhythm that reminded me of our time in New York.
One night, he drove us into Newport, the local city, and we went out for dinner and a movie. He insisted we flip a coin to decide who got to pick the movie. I won the coin toss and we ended up in a theatre full of women for a chick flick. Jackson ate most of the popcorn and about 20 minutes into the movie I looked over at him and he was asleep.
“Want to go?” I whispered.
His eyes remained shut but a smile played on his lips. “Nope. You enjoy.”
The movie, along with my pregnancy hormones, created waterworks. I only cried harder when his big hand slipped into mine and gave it a good squeeze.
When we walked out, I enthused, “I loved that movie. It was so good.”
He laughed.
“What?” I said, feigning indignation.
“Nothing.”
But I noted that he had a smile on his face walking back to the truck.
***
Another night, he took me for ice cream. On the way home, he stopped at the paint store.
“What are we painting?” I asked, clueless.
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