“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.”

“So what, are you here to just tell me what a fuck-up I am? How I ruined his life?”

“No, I’m here to say you always have the opportunity to make things right. Right now, you have a choice: whiskey or Jackson.”

He looked down at the alcohol in his cup and let out a low sigh. “You should leave.”

“Okay, but for once in your life, how about you be the parent to your son instead of it being the other way around?”

“She’s right, you know, Mike,” a voice said behind me, and I turned to see Mama standing there. “You’ve been a child to your own son for years, and I’m not judging you, because I have been the same thing to my girls. All those years ago, both of us were betrayed. We were both hurt by the two people who meant the most to us. We took that heartbreak out on our own children. Even with all the darkness we sent their way, they still managed to have goodness in them.” She walked over to Mike and frowned, placing a hand on his forearm. “Aren’t you tired of being angry?” she asked him.

His upper lip twitched as he lowered his mug down to the table. “He wanted to study art?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“He hasn’t spoken about art since Hannah…” His words faded off, and I felt my gut tighten. He was so unbelievably sad. It was painful to watch.

“When was the last time you two have actually spoken to one another? Had a real conversation?”

The pain in his expression only intensified as he turned to leave the shop.

I stepped toward him to try to express my thoughts more to him, but Mama placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let him go, Gracelyn Mae.”

“I just want to break through to him.”

“Trust me.” She shook her head. “He heard every single word you said.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because his eyes showed me exactly how my heart feels.”

It made me sad to know Mama was hurting so much. Had she been hurting as long as Mike had? Why hadn’t I ever taken the time to zoom in on my own mother? Perhaps it was because children oftentimes forgot that their parents were human, too. Perhaps it was because we assumed they had everything figured out, due to the fake smiles they delivered our way.

“What were you doing here, anyway?” I asked her.

“Looking for you. I heard you were seen walking into the shop.”

“I just got here,” I mentioned. “How could you hear that already?”

“It’s Chester, darling. News travels fast. Which is why I wanted to be the first to tell you. Your father and I decided to separate. Well, he decided. I was forced to agree.”

“Mama,” I started, but she shook her head, giving me a sad smile.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I owe you an apology, though. For the past summer, for the past forever years. I put too much pressure on you and your sister to be perfect, to be loyal to people who didn’t deserve your loyalty.”

“Is that how you feel about Dad?”

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I love that man. More than anything, I love him, and I tried to be everything I could for him. I wanted to be perfect so he could love me back. The truth is, he’d never be able to love me the way I love him, and that breaks my heart.”

“Oh, Mama…”

“I guess this is what I get for treating you the way I did. I guess this is my humble pie.”

“I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

“For so long, I thought I was unworthy of love. I prayed on it each night, asking God to heal my broken pieces. To make my husband love me, but he couldn’t. And now, Samuel says he doesn’t want to be with me. That I deserve more. What does that even mean? More than what? All I know, all I’ve ever known was how to be his. To be the pastor’s wife. And now, he’s leaving me, and I’m…” She took a breath and closed her eyes. “I don’t know how to be alone.”

“You’re not alone, Mama. I got you.”

Her eyes stayed close, and her body began to shake. “I’ve been so hard on you.”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling you’ve been harder on yourself.”

When her eyes opened, I felt as if I saw myself staring back at me. “How did you do it?” she asked me. “How did you begin again after years of being someone else’s?”

“You take small breaths. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or heartbroken, just remember to take small breaths.”

“Small breaths…I can do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I just don’t know who I am anymore. Without Samuel, do I even exist?” she asked me.

How odd was that? Hearing my mother repeat all the same questions I’d asked myself. “You probably exist more in this moment than you ever have in all your life. You’ll be surprised by all the things you learn about your heart and how it beats. And if you need to get away, you can come stay with me for as long as necessary. I have a spare room.”

“You’d do that for me?” she questioned, her voice cracking as if my offer stunned her.

“Oh, Mama.” I pulled her into a hug and held on tight. “I’d do anything for you.”

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slow. “Small breaths,” she whispered.

“Yes,” I replied. “Just take small breaths.”

51

Jackson

As far as I knew, Dad had been able to stay away from the bottle. I was thankful for that, too. I never wanted to see him in that shape ever again. I’d never been so terrified in my life.

On Thursday afternoon, I walked over to the auto shop, and I felt a knot in my stomach as I looked up at Dad on a ladder as he hammered away at the Mike’s Auto Shop sign in front of the building.

“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I asked walking over to him.

“Closing shop,” he replied.

“What? What do you mean closing shop?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” The sign dropped to the ground with one more hit, and then Dad started climbing down the ladder. “I sold the place,” he grumbled, walking into the shop, leaving me flabbergasted.

“Are you drunk? You can’t just give all this away,” I argued, following right behind him.

“Actually”—he shrugged—“it turns out I can. I sold the shop and the cabin along with all the land. Got a pretty penny for it, too.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s my home.”

“Yeah, well, now it’s not.”

“Who did you sell it to? I’ll get it back. It’s obvious you’re not in the right state of mind. You’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, and your mind just isn’t making sense.”

“Nah. For the first time ever, I’m thinking straight.”

“But—”

“What type of art?” he asked me, throwing me off completely.

“What?”

“What art style would you study? Where would you travel to see different techniques?”

“You need a nap.”

“I’ve been sleeping long enough. Now here.” He nodded me over to him, and I hesitated. “Come on, boy, I ain’t got all day. Get over here.”

He handed me a check with a huge amount written on it. “What is this?” I asked him.

“Your cut from the sale. Of course, you won’t see any real payoff until the paperwork goes through and all that bullshit, but that’s enough for you to live off of for a year or so.”

“What?”

“You’re free, Jackson,” he said, giving me a half smile. “Go find yourself.”

“Dad, you’re being ridiculous. I know exactly who is behind this, and I’ll get everything figured out. Don’t worry.”

Before he could reply, I was already on my way to Loretta Harris’s home. It was clear that she was the one behind the sale of the property. She was the only one ever pushing for land for that church of theirs. This situation had her name written all over it.

As I stood on her front porch, I took a deep breath as she answered the door.

“Jackson? What are you doing here?” she asked, confused.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?” I barked, feeling my chest rise and fall.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s not play stupid. The property, my dad’s shop,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “Him selling everything to you and the church.”

“What?” she said, flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what you’re talking about…”

“Stop with the games and pretending.”

“She’s not pretending,” Samuel stated, walking onto the porch from their household. “She had nothing to do with the deal. It was between Mike and me.”

“What?”