Grace
Mike had been out of the hospital for a few days now, and he was lucky enough not to have suffered any brain damage. Ever since Mike had returned home, Jackson kept a close eye on him. He was terrified of his father relapsing, which wouldn’t have been uncommon.
The amount of alcohol that Mike Emery consumed on the regular was terrifying. I couldn’t even imagine the amount of worry that existed in Jackson’s soul.
When I got back to town Saturday morning, I headed straight for the auto shop to check on Jackson, where he said he’d be.
As I waited, I watched as the back door of the shop opened and Mike walked in with a coffee mug. He headed straight for the coffee machine and poured himself a mug of black coffee.
Then he topped it off with a small bottle of whiskey that he pulled from his pocket.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I asked, completely baffled. After everything he’d been through, after Jackson almost lost him, he had gone right back to the bottle.
That broke my heart more than words could express, and I knew if Jackson found out, he’d lose it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he barked.
“Waiting for your son. Are you really drinking? After everything you just went through?”
“Don’t come in here judging my choices like you know me.”
“You’re right, I don’t know you, but I know your son, and what you’re doing is destroying him.”
“You don’t know anything about that boy. You spend a few weeks with him, and now you know the ins and outs of how his brain works? You don’t know anything. That kid is messed up.”
“I wonder what made him that way.”
He grimaced, turning to walk out.
“You’re stealing his life away,” I told him.
He paused. “Pick your next words wisely.”
“You are. Do you know he doesn’t even like working on cars? He wanted to go to college to study art, like his mother. He wanted to see the world.”
“Now I know you know nothing about Jackson. He loves cars.”
“No, he learned so he could help out around here. He wanted to help take care of you.”
“Nobody asked for his help.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “They did.”
He raised an eyebrow and grumbled, “What are you talking about?”
“The last thing your wife said to him was, ‘Take care of your father.’”
“You got some nerve walking into my shop and talking about my dead wife. You know nothing about her.”
“No, but I do know my father loved her, and I know she loved him, too. I know that when she told you she was in love with another man, it cracked your heart. I know you know what betrayal feels like. Trust me, I know it, too.” He didn’t say a word, so I continued speaking. “Jackson knows how much you’ve been through. Even on your darkest days, he still loves you. He loves his mother too, which is why he’ll never leave your side. That was the last request she ever made of him, for him to take care of you, but while he’s picking you up, he’s missing out on living himself. On the day he lost his mother, he lost his father too, and every morning he wakes up scared he’s going to be burying you any day now.”
