Jason’s parents blinked and shared a glance. His mother said, “That…man?”
Robert added, “He’s a fair bit older than you, isn’t he?”
Jason gritted his teeth, all the old resentment surging. “I’m a man too. Yes, Ben’s older, but I’m not a teenager. A lot has changed in the last eight years, and you don’t get to sit there judging me. You don’t get to tell me who I should date.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “This was a bad idea. We should go.”
“Just like that?” Tim scoffed. “Of course. Run away again. That’s what you do.”
“What?” Jason scoffed back, self-righteous indignation straightening his spine. “That’s not true.”
“Sure,” Tim bit out. “Did you run away from this Ben dude too? I bet you did.”
He wanted to scream, “I did not!” but snapped his jaw shut. He breathed shallowly, guilt stinging with every inhalation. He couldn’t think about Ben. Not now.
He had to deal with this first. It was long overdue.
After another long breath, he said, “Maggie, come with me.” He pushed his chair back.
“Are you really going to leave?” his father asked incredulously.
“Of course he is.” Tim crossed his arms, jaw tight.
Maggie looked at him with wide eyes, and Jason tried to smile reassuringly at her. He kept his tone even. “I’m just going to take Maggie into the den. Mags, you can watch TV while you finish your dinner, okay?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. Let’s just take your plate and milk in case you change your mind. We’re going to talk in here. We won’t be too long.”
“But I want to stay!”
He used his “that’s enough, young lady” tone. “Maggie. Please do as you’re told.”
Huffing, she carried her glass and napkin as Jason took her plate and utensils and led her out of the dining room and down the hall to the den. The TV was bigger than he remembered, and the wraparound couch was velvety leather, a change from the suede he and Tim had scuffed up.
The art was the same, brass rubbings from churches in England on black backgrounds, Arthurian soldiers with swords and pious ladies in long, flowing gowns. He was struck by a memory of curling up with his father on the suede couch, Dad telling him stories of knights and maidens.
“Dad?”
“Uh-huh.” He shook himself and settled Maggie on the couch with a lap tray, flicking on the TV and starting an episode of a David Attenborough nature show on Netflix. As chimpanzees hooted and climbed trees, Jason kissed Maggie’s head. “I’ll be back soon. I need to talk some stuff out with them.”
She nodded. “Okay. I won’t eavesdrop. Even though I really want to.”
He had to laugh, a tiny bit of the pressure in his chest easing. “Thank you. You’re a good girl. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
He closed the door to the den behind him. In the dining room, he found his family still sitting where he’d left them, tension simmering in the air and food untouched. He took his seat, Tim glaring at his plate across the table.
Jason said, “I can imagine it must have seemed that way to you—that I ran away.”
His mother exhaled sharply. “Oh no. No, it didn’t just seem that way, Jason.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “You just left! Ran away! We woke up, and you and Maggie were simply gone. Do you have any idea how frightening that was? No note. Nothing! You drained your bank account, and that was it. You were gone. We didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”
Jason snorted. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”
“I’m not.” She swiped at her eyes. “It’s terrifying, not knowing where your child is. Not knowing if they’re safe. You should understand that now, especially after what happened in Montana.”
His stomach clenched. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Night after night, we laid awake, praying you were all right.” She gulped from her wine glass, red liquid sloshing. “I kept imagining all the unspeakable things that could happen. By the time we tracked you down, we were frantic.”
His father spoke up. “We were afraid, Jason. We were afraid for you and that sweet baby. You were making rash decisions, and even though you’d turned eighteen, we didn’t think you were old enough to be a responsible parent. So yes, then we pursued legal action because we didn’t feel you left us any choice.”
“No. No, don’t turn this around on me. You were already talking about taking Maggie away.” He glared at his mother. “I heard you. On the phone. ‘We’d have to have Jason declared an unfit father,’ you said.”
She opened and closed her mouth. “But that was just discussion. We wanted to know the options. We were frustrated. Angry. We were wrong, and we realize that. At the time, we truly thought it was best for you and Maggie if we had custody. But we had no intention of actually taking you to court. It was the last thing we wanted.”