Chapter 21

Jack stared up at the Christmas tree covered in lights. It was a cold, but clear night. It’d snowed about an inch earlier in the day, and it still covered the ground under the tree. It almost made Jack feel festive, if he were the type of person to celebrate holidays.

Jack liked coming to this park. It wasn’t usually very busy despite being in the middle of Seattle. Usually only old folks from the assisted living complex down the street would be in the park. Occasionally, Jack would see moms pushing strollers, or singletons dragging their tiny dogs on a leash.

But in the evenings, after the sun had set, were the best times to come here. Hardly anyone was around, except for a few homeless people who slept on benches. Jack sometimes gave them cash, or food, if they wanted some. Most of the people sleeping in the park he only saw once or twice before they moved on to another spot.

One of the regulars nodded at Jack when he passed by. Ronny was his name. Jack had asked him if he’d wanted coffee, and he’d replied that he’d rather have some cigarettes. “Don’t need anything to keep me awake any longer than I need to be,” Ronny had said with a toothy smile.

“You have any smokes?” Ronny called out.

“I don’t smoke,” said Jack, approaching the man.

Ronny clucked his tongue, pulling a ratty blanket around himself. “Forgot about that. I smoked that entire pack you gave me in two days. Told myself I’d let it last.” Ronny shrugged. “Told myself the same thing last week when I bought myself a twelve-pack of beers. Whoops.”

“You need anything else? Are you hungry?” said Jack.

“Nah. I’m good, man.” Ronny peered up at Jack, assessing him. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

“I think you’re here more than I am.”

Ronny chuckled. “True. Been here for a few months now. I’m a regular, practically.”

Jack had offered to take Ronny to a shelter or even put him up in a hotel room, but Ronny had refused. Ronny didn’t like charity—at least not beyond getting a packet of cigarettes. Jack hated the thought of him spending the night outside in the cold. But he couldn’t force Ronny inside.

Besides, Ronny had told him that staying in the shelters was worse than sleeping outside. “It’s like a fucking prison,” Ronny had spat. “Never going back to one of those.”

Jack had been in Seattle for a few weeks now. After he’d packed up and left Hazel Island, he’d gone to his mom’s place and had helped her find a new place to live. He’d gotten his own place a few blocks away from her. Despite getting a decent job down at the shipyards, Jack knew it’d take him years to rebuild the savings he’d burned through in the last few months.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” asked Ronny.

“I grew up in the city, but I haven’t lived here in years. I was living on Hazel Island.”

“Never been there. Heard it’s nice. Why’d you leave?”

~I left a woman behind because I wasn’t good enough for her. I broke a promise. I’m a failure.~

Jack wasn’t sure which explanation he should go with. So instead, he replied, “I moved back because of family.”

“A girl?” Ronny looked him up and down. “Or for a boy. Dunno what you’re into.”

Jack’s lips twitched. “No, it wasn’t because of a woman. I’m helping out my mom.”

“You single?”

“Why? You interested?”

Ronny guffawed. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not my type.”

Jack wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or insulted. Shaking his head, he sat down on the bench next to Ronny and stretched out his legs. “There was a woman, actually.”

“Huh, thought so. I could tell by the look on your face.”

“What look is that?”

Ronny crossed his arms. “I’ve been on the streets for ten years now. I’ve seen things that would make you cry like a baby. I’ve seen the look on somebody’s face when they don’t have anything else. Like they’ve been sucked dry by a vampire.” Ronny glanced at him. “Same thing in your look.”

Jack stared straight ahead. “I don’t think my situation is as bad as being homeless,” he finally said.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got other problems. We all have demons.” Ronny pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Anyway, whatever’s eating at you will kill you if you let it.”

Jack frowned. “I thought you didn’t have any more cigarettes.”

“This is my last one.” Ronny blew out a cloud of smoke.

As Jack walked home, he thought about what Ronny had said. He wanted to deny it, tell himself that Ronny was crazy and had no idea what he was talking about.

But that didn’t mitigate the sting that Jack felt from Ronny’s statement. If he were being honest, he felt like he was wasting away every day that passed without seeing Gwen.

He missed her, plain and simple. He’d hoped that with distance and time, he’d forget about her. But the opposite seemed to be happening: he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He wondered how she’d reacted to discovering he’d moved away. Guilt made him wonder if he’d made a mistake, leaving like that, without saying goodbye.

But he’d told her they were over. He’d been honest. Why make things harder with a painful goodbye?

Jack arrived home to his bare studio apartment. Currently, the furnishings included a rickety futon and a cardboard box for a table. He could’ve gotten more furniture, but it’d seemed pointless. He wasn’t planning on staying here for that long.

~Where will you go, then? You can’t go back to Hazel Island.~

A text message made his phone light up. His mom texted him often. Although she’d reluctantly agreed to go to outpatient treatment in return for his help, Jack had soon discovered it wasn’t that simple.

Neither he nor his mom had the money to pay for a spot at a private treatment center. He’d also learned that it’d take months, even years, before there would be a spot available at a place that offered financial aid.

At first, his mom had been texting him to help her with something in her new apartment, like hanging a picture, putting together a bookshelf, or unclogging a drain. Then it had been requests for more money. Twenty dollars here, twenty dollars there. Jack had at first told her no, because he wasn’t sure what she’d be spending it on.

When she’d fought him on it, he’d relented. He just didn’t have the energy anymore to fight his mom, especially when she would lay on the guilt so skillfully, making him doubt himself and his reasons for denying her.

~Can you send me money for groceries? ~his mom’s text read.

Jack stared at it, anger rising within him. There was never any gratitude, never any attempt to pay him back. He only got endless demands, draining just as surely as a vampire drained its victims.

~I just gave you money~, Jack replied.

When he didn’t receive a response, he naively thought that was the end of things. But not even fifteen minutes later, his front door jiggled, his mom’s voice echoing in the hallway outside. “Jack, let me in! I want to talk to you!”

Jack considered ignoring her. But it was also freezing outside, and the last time he’d tried that stunt, she’d threatened to call the cops. The last thing Jack wanted was a scene.

He opened the door to find his mom not wearing a coat or jacket, her cheeks flushed. He wondered if she’d walked here without one.

“It’s freezing,” she complained. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Close to sixty, Debra Benson was a slight woman, almost frail-looking. But underneath the frailty was a stubborn streak that no one could match.

Her hair was newly bleached blond, her acrylic nails a startling shade of bright red with crystals glued to the tips. Jack didn’t want to know how she’d gotten the money to pay for either.

“Are you gonna let me in?” she said in a whiny voice.

Jack stepped aside.

“You still haven’t bought any furniture? This place looks like a serial killer lives here.” Debra laughed, but it turned into a hoarse cough quickly enough. She didn’t sit down: instead, she began to rummage around in Jack’s fridge.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked.

“Making food. I’m starving.” Debra pulled out a few random ingredients and began to assemble them on Jack’s counter. “Do you even have pots or pans?”

“In the drawer under the oven.”

Jack watched his mom as she practically ransacked his kitchen. Debra was hardly a cook; Jack was certain she didn’t even know how to boil water for pasta.

“I don’t need you to cook for me,” said Jack quietly.

“Yet here I am. Aren’t I a good mother? I’m always here for you, Jack.” Debra filled a pot with water and then liberally poured olive oil in the water, which made Jack wince. “Which is why I’m heartbroken that I have to beg you for money constantly. A mother should never have to beg. If you needed money, I wouldn’t do that to ~you~.”

His mom fiddled with the knobs on the stovetop until Jack wanted to scream.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” he said, almost to himself.

Debra barely glanced up. “How do you work this stupid thing? God, what a piece of shit this place is. You’d think you could find something better than this.”

“~Mom~.” He nearly shouted the words.

Debra finally looked at him.

“I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Sorry for touching your stove, I didn’t know it was important to you.” Her words dripped sarcasm.

“This isn’t about the fucking stove.” Jack’s fists clenched. “Do you know why I left all those years ago?”

Debra’s expression shuttered. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Well, I do. I left because of you. I left because you’re an addict who refuses to get help and because you drive everyone away. I left because I had no choice. You forced me to leave.”

Her eyes filled with tears. For a second, Jack felt guilty, but he knew that his mom was talented at using tears as a weapon.

“How can you speak to your mother like that? I clothed you, fed you, loved you. Who gave you a roof over your head? Who stayed up late, helping you with your homework? Not your dad. Me. I did it all by myself. And this is the thanks I get?”

“You don’t get a fucking trophy for doing the bare minimum as a parent!”

The words burst forth, Jack hardly understanding what he was saying. But then, he realized that for almost his entire life, he’d waited for his mom to get sober and then admit that she’d hurt him and Danny. She’d apologize, she’d say she loved him, and then they’d live happily ever after.

He’d twisted himself into knots to please her, to make her happy. If he was the perfect son, maybe she’d get better.

But it didn’t matter. He could give her mountains of cash, a brand-new house, a shiny car. He could tell her she’d been the perfect mother, but she’d never change because she had no reason to.

Debra was crying now. Her shoulders were hunched over, her hands on her face. Despite his anger, Jack still felt guilty.

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her. She tried to push him away, but it was a feeble attempt.

“Why are you so mean to me?” she was saying in between sobs. “I’ve tried and tried and it’s never good enough.”

Jack said nothing. He said nothing because there was no point.

He offered to walk his mom home, but she refused. He could only get her to wear his coat so she didn’t freeze to death.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said. He meant it.

“I don’t accept your apology.” She slammed the door behind her so hard it rattled the walls.

Soon after she’d left, Jack gave in and followed her. He only wanted to make sure she got home all right. There was no telling what his mom would do in this state. She could go to some bar, get drunk, and then pass out in some alley. Or she might hurt herself. Jack couldn’t bear the thought that he’d cause her to do either.

He followed her without her realizing it. When she finally buzzed herself into her building, he let out a sigh of relief.

He wandered the streets for a while with no destination in mind. Why go home? That dump of an apartment wasn’t his home.

He thought of Gwen, and it made his heart ache. And as he sifted through so many memories he had of Gwen Parker, he realized that she’d never treated him like his mom had. She’d never demanded anything from him. Even when she’d told him she loved him, it’d been offered as a gift.

And he, the greatest fool of all time, had thrown that magnificent gift back into her face.

Groaning, he sat down on a bench, his knees suddenly wobbly. ~I love her. I love Gwen. And she’ll probably never want to see my face again.~

“You back again?”

Jack looked up to see Ronny lounging on the bench across from him. He hadn’t even realized he’d returned to the park.

“I guess I can’t stay away,” he said.

“I’m really not interested in you in that way.”

That made Jack smile a little. “Noted.”

They sat in silence for a while, Ronny gazing up at the sky, Jack wondering if there was any possible way to get Gwen back. If he had to beg, borrow, steal...he’d do it.

“Ronny, have you ever fucked up with a woman so badly that she wouldn’t take you back?” Jack asked.

“Only once, when I was just a kid. I cheated on a girl. It was the stupidest thing I could’ve done.” Ronny peered at Jack. “You cheat on your girl?”

Jack shook his head. “She said she loved me. I told her it wouldn’t work.”

Ronny let out a low whistle. “Shit, that might be worse. I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

“So it’s hopeless?”

“Hopeless? Fuck me, I don’t know. I’m not your shrink. But you gotta at least try. Otherwise, you’ll always wonder and that’s the worst feeling. I didn’t try with my girl. I had too much pride. And then she married some other guy and well, here you see me.” He flashed Jack a grim smile. “She made the better choice in the end.”

Jack sat on the bench and listened to Ronny snore. He watched people pass by as he thought. Eventually, he got up and bought a pack of cigarettes. He then set them on the bench next to Ronny’s feet, covered them with the blanket, and headed home.