Finding Jaime

Chapter 28

The rest of the weekend went like pretty much any weekend. Except my phone bleeped with a text I wasn't expecting and hadn't thought would come.

"Dude!" It was Emanuel. "Mrs. Walker told me your mom died and you were living with your dad!  Why didn't you tell me ANY of this?!  I knew your mom was sick, but you didn't even tell me she died. Or that you had a funeral. OR THAT YOU MET YOUR DAD!?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Everything happened so fast," I said. "And I didn't want to bother you with coming to a funeral."

"Jaime, we've known each other our whole lives. You're practically my brother. If I didn't have Luis.  I can't believe you'd think I wouldn't want to come to your mom's funeral! Who used to babysit me when Mama went back to work?!"

"Sorry man. I wasn't in a good headspace. I wasn't thinking," I texted back.

"And what's this about your dad?  I thought you didn't know who he is."

"My mom left me a letter telling me about him. And made me come live with him," I said.

"Is he nice at least?"

"Yeah. He's okay. He has 3 kids from other relationships, but they're all pretty cool. The youngest is only 2," I said.

"I'd ask who he is but you were on the freaking news man!!  That's how I found out where you were when you disappeared off the face of the earth. Mrs Walker filled me in on the rest."

I sent a shrug emoji.

"Are you coming back to school? Or are you going to some fancy private school now?"

"No. I'm coming back. Tomorrow, I think," I said.

We texted a bit more, and Emanuel didn't seem too upset by the fact that I'd pretty much disappeared on everyone. He told me he'd fill in the rest of the guys.

Sunday night I was sitting on the couch playing Xbox with Saint when dad came and sat in front of me.

"You're in my way," I frowned. Saint took the opportunity to kill my character.

"Thanks, Dad," I frowned.

"We need to talk about tomorrow," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"We have an appointment with your mom's lawyer at eleven to read her will."

I looked down. I didn't want to go to that. It made everything final. Not that I'm stupid and think my mom is, like, still alive or something. But reading her will, even though I just buried her, just makes it too real.

I could feel Saint looking at me and at Dad.

"Do I have to go?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, but yeah. You do," Dad said.

"But I have school," I said.

"I think you can manage one more day off, huh?  We'll take your brothers to school, grab some breakfast and then go to the lawyer's. Sound good?"

"No. Well, yes. But no," I said.

"I get it," Dad said.

Dad patted me on the shoulder and got up.

"Want to play again?" Saint asked.

"No. Sorry. I, I'm gonna go upstairs," I said, getting up and heading up the stairs clumsily.

I made it up to my room and lay on my bed.  I didn't want Pete to hear how little my mom had. How little she would have had to leave to me. He had this great big house in Beverly Hills, and we had a tiny little apartment in Santa Monica. I thought about that apartment in comparison to this house. It made me mad again. I'd never thought of that apartment as being small. But now that I'd been here for a while, I realized how crappy that apartment had really been.

I couldn't be mad at Pete though, because he hadn't known I existed. I didn't know why was mad, though. Mom chose not to tell Pete I existed until she realized she was dying. But what if she had told him?  Would he have helped like he said he would have?"

Tears threatened to come to my eyes and I forced them back. None of this was fair.

There was a light knock on my door and it was pushed open. I was about to tell whoever it was to go away, but Marvel came toddling in with Meagan right behind her.

"I'm sorry, Jaime. I tried to tell her you needed some alone time," Meagan said as Marvel climbed up onto my bed uninvited, and lay down with her head on my chest.

"Jaime has the sad," Marvel said. "I Jaime's nurse, so I make Jaime feel better."

How could I resist?  I put my arm around Marvel and rubbed her back.

"You no more sad, Jaime?" She asked in her small voice.

"I'm still a little sad, but you made me feel a lot better," I said, looking down at her. Meagan was standing nearby and smiling.

"Miss Marvel, say goodnight. It's bedtime."

"No. I sleep here wif Jaime," Marvel said, yawning.

"It's okay, Meagan. She can sleep here for a little," I said.

"You're sure?" She asked. I nodded.

"She has really taken a liking to you Jaime. Thank you for being kind to her, even when you weren't feeling it," Meagan said. "I'll come back and get her and take her to her own bed in a little while, okay?"

I nodded.

"Jaime, do you want to talk about anything?  A lot has happened in just a few days."

I looked at Meagan. How could I explain it to her? How could I explain that while I'm still sad about mom dying, I'm mad that she never told Dad about me?  How could I explain that I hadn't realized how much mom must have struggled to keep a roof over my head in that crappy apartment when she could have gotten help from Dad?  And how could I admit that I was mad at my mom just for dying?

"I'm okay," I said.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'm here if you ever want to talk, okay?"

I nodded, again.