Finding Jaime

Chapter 32

Pete POV

I spoke with Jaime a little after we got home from the will reading and while he was upset, he seemed okay. He said he didn't want me to know how poor they were. But they weren't really. $100,000 isn't that a small figure. It'll be enough to help Jaime get started in life. And he has me now. I'll make sure he's taken care of.

But something wasn't sitting right with me. There was something within his anger that had me a little concerned. But he's 15. He needs his space, too. And he is still grieving. He has a lot of emotions to figure out.

Suddenly, I heard a noise from upstairs. It sounded like something breaking. A loud bang and a crash. I ran upstairs.

I knocked on Jaime's door, and when he didn't answer announced I was coming in.

Jaime was in a rage. He was screaming into his pillow and punching his mattress. I rushed over to him and tried to get him to calm down and tell me what was wrong.

He was mad at his mother. Angry that she had kept us apart his whole life. Angry that he'd been denied to opportunity to get to know his dad. Angry that he'd missed out with his half-siblings. I told him that blaming Tanya wasn't fair since she couldn't defend her actions now.

I emphasized that she had loved Jaime, had provided a home, made sure he was clothed and fed and that he knew he was loved. That we couldn't change the past, but I could help with his future. That he had me now, and I was going to make sure he was okay and taken care of.

I could tell he had a lot of conflicting emotions and knew I had to find someone to help him work these things out. It couldn't be healthy.

After he'd had his tantrum, for lack of a better term, we spoke a bit. Once he seemed talked out I asked if he wanted to come back downstairs. He said no, he just wanted to think some more.

"You know where we are if you need or want," I said. He nodded.

I left Jaime in his room, lying on his bed.

"What was all that?" Meagan asked as I came downstairs.

"Nothing," I said. "It's okay. I handled it."

"Pete, what did Jaime break?" She asked.

"Why do you assume he broke something?" I asked.

"Because I heard the crash, too."

"Ah. Yeah. He threw the picture of his mom across the room. It shattered on the wall. He's okay. Nothing major broke."

"Why did he throw the picture?" Meagan asked.

"He's still working through everything. Right now, he's moved on to being angry at Tanya for keeping me from him, and him from me, I guess. He's stuck in a weird place as a kid. Mad at me for not being part of his life, though that's conflicted because he knows I didn't know about him. And mad at Tanya because she did and she still kept us apart. I kind of understand that. I wish I'd known about him, too."

"He's okay though? No one got hurt?"

"He's not okay, and I'm going to look into getting him someone to talk to. But physically, yes. He's fine. No one is hurt. Tanya's photo might be a bit scraped up, but otherwise, all good."

Meagan looked towards the stairs and sighed.

"He's 15," she said. "No 15-year-old knows how to deal with this kind of upheaval. Hell, I don't even know how to deal with this! But he is a really good kid, Pete. I hate that he's hurting so much."

"I know. Me too."

Meagan and I went about doing the things we had to do. I went into my office and made some calls, checked my email, work type stuff. Meagan called me up for dinner.

"Can you go get Jaime?" She asked, pulling a chicken out of the oven.

"Sure," I smiled and headed upstairs.

I knocked on Jaime's door and there was no answer, so I quietly opened the door. He was face down on his bed, his left arm hanging off the side, fast asleep. I went over and gently shook him awake.

"Wha? Huh? Mom?" He squinted, then his face fell as reality reminded him where he was.

"Hey kiddo. Sorry. Just me. Dinner's ready."

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled into his pillow. "I'm just really, really tired. I'll be okay. But I really don't want dinner right now."

"You sure?"

He nodded.

"I'll fix you a plate. It'll be in the fridge if you get up later and are hungry. Meagan made chicken, broccoli and mashed potatoes."

"Okay," Jaime mumbled.

I patted his back and told him I'd check on him later. He mumbled something into his pillow that may have just been 'mhm'.

"Jaime coming down?" Meagan asked as I came back into the kitchen where she was strapping Marvel into her booster seat.

"No. He's tired. He was asleep when I went upstairs and he said he's not hungry but he's really tired. I told him I'd make him a plate and put it in the fridge."

"Okay. Check on him later, though, okay?"

"I will. I told him I will."

"Where's Jaime?" Marvel asked.

"He went to bed early. He's really tired," I said.

"Okay!" Marvel said.

The five of us sat down to dinner. I put a plate together for Jaime, in case he got hungry later on. He had probably worn himself out with his rage. I knew I had to find him some help. I just didn't know where to even start.

When the five of us had finished dinner and were cleaning up, Jaime appeared in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed head hair.

"Hi Jaime!" Marvel smiled from the table where she was wiping down the surface.

"Hey Mar," Jaime said. "Meagan, I'm sorry I skipped dinner. I was just really tired."

Meagan went over to the counter and picked up the plate I was going to cover and put in the fridge for him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Dad made you a plate. Do you want me to warm it up?"

"No thanks," he said, and crutched his way over to the table. Meagan brought him his dinner and cutlery. I watched as she put the food in front of him, put her arm around him and gave him a kiss on the head.

He looked sort of stunned when she did that. But then I saw the slightest smile just pull at the corner of his lips. And it made me smile, too.

Jaime ate his dinner while I sat at the table with him, talking. He was heading back to school the following day and I'd be driving him and getting things changed over to mine and Meagan's contact information.

Saint and Marvel went upstairs with Meagan to start getting ready for bed while Bronx sat with Jaime and I as Jaime ate his dinner.

"Are you nervous about going back tomorrow?" I asked.

"Maybe."