Finding Jaime

Chapter 14

Jaime went upstairs to his room after he'd cried in my office. I don't know if he was tired, embarrassed or what, but he stopped crying eventually and got up and went upstairs.

Meagan and I stayed sitting on the floor in my office.

"It's so sad," Meagan said. "He's hurting so badly."

I nodded.

"But he's coming out of his shell," she said. "He's lost, and sad, but I don't know. He seems less angry?"

"I think so. I think now that he knows I really didn't know about him, that I haven't spent the past 15 years neglecting him, he's lost a lot of that anger and vitriol. Can't hate a guy who legitimately didn't know you existed."

"True," Meagan said. "Are the guys still coming over?"

"Yeah. They'll come around seven. We'll go downstairs and they can meet Jaime, and get to know him, and he can get to know the other guys who spend a lot of time around here."

"I don't know what his life was like with his mom, but I suspect his world is about to drastically change," Meagan said.

I nodded again.

"He really loved his mom. I think they had a good life together. But yeah. Big change," I said.

"You should go check on him Pete. If the guys are coming over, you should make sure he's ready."

"I mentioned to him they're coming. He knows."

"But he might not be in the right frame of mind. Check he's okay, okay?"

I smiled at Meagan. She has such a good heart.

"Okay. I will. But not because you told me to. Because he's my son and I do care for him."

She smiled back at me.

"I'll get dinner started," she said. "Try to get him to come down and eat."

I headed upstairs to check on Jaime. I met Saintly on the stairs.

"Is Jaime okay?"'he asked.

"Why?  I mean he's upset about his mom but why?"

"He was talking to himself," Saint said.

"Could he have been on the phone?"

"Not unless he has a phone line to heaven. I'm pretty sure he's talking to his mom."

"Saint, he just buried his mom today," I said.

Saint shrugged.

"Sounded like he was having a conversation. It's weird."

"Saint. Seriously. Cut him some slack," I said. "Are you done your homework?"

"Yep," he said continuing down the stairs.

I continued up and knocked on Jaime's door.

He didn't answer, so I opened the door. He was lying on his back, earbuds in, staring at the ceiling.

He took out an earbud and sat up.

"Hey," I said, sitting on his bed.

"Hey," he said, quietly.

"How're you doing?" I asked.

"Great. Fantastic. Never been better," he sort of snarked.

"I deserved that," I said. "Saint heard you talking. Were you on the phone?"

Jaime looked away.

"No," he said, simply.

"Oh. So...," I asked.

"My mom," he answered the question I didn't ask. But wanted to.

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"I know she's dead. I know she's not really here talking to me," he said. "I guess I'm just having a conversation to say the things I should have said before she died."

"Okay. I get that," I said. "That's far less concerning. I mean, if you thought you were being haunted by the ghost of your mom, or were convinced she was here talking to you... well, we might have to do something about that."

"I promise," Jaime said. "I'm not crazy."

"I didn't say you were," I said.

"You were thinking it. Or at least hoping I wasn't," he frowned at me.

"Not gonna lie," I said. "I was a little concerned."

"I'm not crazy. I don't think my mom is talking to me in reality. I know she's dead. But she was always the one I could go to when I needed to," tears formed in his eyes. "But I wasted so much of that in the last couple of months. I was so mean to her and never spoke to her. I made sure she couldn't tell me what she wanted hoping that would keep her alive. I guess in some ways, I'm trying to make up for that, now that it's too late."

"Jaime, it's never too late to talk to the ones we love," I said. "They can always hear us."

Jaime looked away and up at the ceiling again.

"I just wish I hadn't wasted the last two months," he said, tears still in his eyes.

"Jaime, I wish your mom had told me about you. We have 15 years lost between us. 15 years that I could have gotten to know you, been there for you. So that when, or if, this had happened all of this," I swept my hand around the room to indicate my life. "Wouldn't have been a surprise."

Jaime looked at me.

"Your mom said you've lost your way. What did she mean by that?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"She didn't like some of my friends. Like Frank and Justin.

"Are those the friends you were stealing hubcaps with?"

He didn't answer. Which was all the answer I needed.

I sighed.

"We're going to have to discuss that at some point," I said.

"Whatever," Jaime said.

"Meagan's making dinner, and then the guys are coming over to meet you. Do you want me to tell them another time?"

Jaime shrugged.

"Nah," he said. "They seem cool. It was nice that they came to mom's funeral."

I nodded. But then remembered not one of Jaime's friends had been there.

"Yeah. They're good friends. I noticed none of yours came. Did you tell them?"

"I didn't invite any of them,"

"Why not?" I asked.

"I didn't want them to be there. I didn't want them to see me cry," he said.

"There's nothing wrong with crying." I said.

Jaime shrugged.

"You don't cry around my friends," he said.

Now I was worried. Is he in a gang? Is that what Tanya meant by 'lost his way'?

Just then I heard Meagan call out that dinner was ready.

I would figure things out with Jaime. Eventually. I needed to get to know him first before I jumped to conclusions about his friends.

"Come on," I said. "Let's have some dinner. You haven't eaten much today."

Jaime got up and followed me to the kitchen. Marvel smiled as we walked into the kitchen and patted the spot beside her.

"Jaime, come sit wif me!"

Jaime looked at her, smiled and went over. He slumped a little in his chair, but he was attentive to Marvel. Just like everyone who ever met her, Marvel had wormed her way into Jaime's heart.