Defend

Mr. Alexander isn’t happy about this turn of events at all, but I don’t care. I probably should go. I want to go and make sure they behave. But in all my efforts not to work too much or too late, I left it up to Jamie. If she feels good enough about things to go alone and if she’s okay with me staying behind, then that’s all the approval I need.

I walk them all to the door and see them off before returning to work. Each step I take toward the vehicle feels like the wrong one. Everything about me knows I should be going with her. Not going simply isn’t right. There’s nothing I can do about it now, though. They’re gone and I have work to do.

For the entire hour and a half Jamie’s gone, I wish she was here. The shop is awfully silent without her; the noise I make all lonesome without the pages of her textbooks turning, her fingers typing on the keyboard of her laptop, and her occasionally talking to me. And I keep thinking about that moment when Jamie begged her mother not to bring up whatever happened while she was little.

“Hey, boss! I’m back! I brought you something to eat,” Jamie shouts as she walks into the shop.

“How’d it go?”

She walks over to kiss me on the cheek and then returns to the workspace she made for herself, setting my food down next to her. “Dad took two minutes to complain that you couldn’t take the time to eat with us, and I explained that you’re very dedicated to your work, but if you’re not careful you turn into a workaholic. And I pointed out it wasn’t you who made the decision but me. After that, he shut up. Otherwise, it went pretty well. I’m taking it as a win.”

“I’m glad. Thanks for the food, too. I’ll eat here in a minute.” It’s about time she gets a win with her parents.

“Did you make good progress?”

“Yeah.” I walk over to Jamie and box her in from behind, my hands on either side of her on the desk. “Something’s nagging me and I want to ask you about it, but if you don’t want to tell me, don’t. You can pretend I’m not over here and I’ll get back to work.”

“Okay,” she hesitantly agrees.

“Why did you tell your mom not to talk about whatever happened when you were younger; what happened?”

Jamie stills. That is enough of a response for me.

I kiss her cheek. “I’m getting back to work.”

“You should eat.”

I grab a nearby stool and sit next to her. She’s quiet and possibly pretending to work as I pull my food out of the bag, grab the fork, and begin to eat the still-hot chicken meal.

“Promise you’ll still love me if I remind you?” she whispers, her eyes on her textbook.

Remind me? What does that mean? Regardless, I give her my answer. “Jamie, it’s not like I could ever stop.”

“Says the divorced man,” she mutters.

My reaction is so swift, it startles her. All I do is reach out to grab her chin and turn her head to make her look at me. My voice is low and deadly serious. “That is nothing like this.” I motion between us as if she needs further clarity. “This is different and better in every possible way.” She nods in acceptance and I return to eating my food.

“I know.” With a sigh, she turns toward me in her seat. “I told you why I hate school already. That was my mom’s way of reminding me how dumb I am and have always been.”

Leaning down, I kiss her forehead. “Not dumb, hon. And if it makes you feel better, I always had Cs in my English classes.”

She smiles. “I’m just ready to be done with it all.”

“I’d say you’re determined, too. Despite hating it, you’re about to graduate college.”

“And then I’ll work a job that allows me to live a simple life.”

I plan to make sure she’s able to do what she wants, is happy, and doesn’t hear shit about it from anyone, too. Jamie returns to her schoolwork and I return to my work once I finish eating. Jamie plays some music on her laptop while we get closer and closer to finishing up for the night. She, of course, finishes before I do, but it doesn’t take me long after to complete my job as well.

“You coming home with me tonight?” I ask as we walk outside and I lock up.

“I didn’t pack a bag.”

I glance over at her. “Since when do you not pack a bag?”

“I was in a rush and it slipped my mind,” she quickly defends herself.

“You can still stay,” I tell her. We walk to her car and I open the door for her.