Page 33 of First Surrender

“Acquaintance, huh?” I remark, subtly.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles as he guides her past me.

They go into the house and a few minutes later a small white bus pulls into the end of the driveway, giving a quick rap on the horn. Jackson comes back out of the house with his mom, hand in hand. He walks her to the bus and helps her up the steps before stepping back to wave.

After the bus backs out onto the road, his walk back to me is slow and reluctant. He nods for me to follow him and I do, tracing his steps to the garage, because my nosiness is getting the best of me.

He sits down on a workout bench, motioning for me to do the same on the box across from him.

“Why did you come here?” His tone is guarded like before, confused.

“You’ve called off three times.”

He huffs out a breath and grumbles, “Roberta.”

There’s a silence that descends. I don’t feel like talking about the money I brought, I’d rather ask him about his mom. Maybe it’s because mine is dead now, but I have an overt curiosity about other people’s family dynamics.

“Your mom-” I start but he cuts me off.

“She has Alzheimer’s.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jackson

16 years ago…

“Mom!” I run inside the house and skid to a stop in the kitchen, dropping my baseball bag on the floor. “You missed my game!” I grumble. This is the third game she’s missed. Everyone else’s parents are in the stands cheering for them when they get a hit and I have no one. It’s embarrassing.

“Mom!” I yell, again, kicking off my dirty shoes. I stomp through the house looking for her. It’s not that hard, it’s tiny. Her bedroom is the only one on the main level, my room’s in the attic upstairs.

I find her sitting on her bed, wearing her bathrobe. It looks like she just got out of the shower, but her hair is dry. “Mom, why did you miss my game? Again!” I whine in a way that I’d only let her witness.

“What, sweetie?” She looks at me with confusion. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“It’s nine o’clock, why would I be at school?”

She glances at the window and shakes her head. “Oh my. How did it get so late? I had no idea. I’m so sorry, Jacks.” She rushes over and hugs me, squeezing me in a way that only moms can. She’s a tiny woman, I’ve towered over her for a few years already, but she gives me the best hugs.

“It’s okay. I want you at the next one though, okay? It’s our last home game.”

“Yes, dear,” she scolds gently. She calls me dear when I try to boss her around, subtly telling me I’m too big for my britches.

“Love you, Momma.” Sealing it with a kiss on the top of her head like she did for me when she could reach it, her absence at my game is already forgiven.

* * *

Natalie’s presence is unsettling. First, she shows up unannounced and then sits on her knees in the grass with my mom for thirty minutes completely ignoring me. I don’t know why she’s here and I’m terrified to find out.

I’m so ashamed of myself. I haven’t had the nerve to wear my badge for days because of how I treated her. I’ve continued to replay what happened in my office over in my head in every direction and I still don’t know which way I’ve interpreted is correct.

She has every right to hate me, to belittle me if she pleases, but I need her to leave my mom out of it. She gets confused easily. The disease has eaten away at her for years and she’s sensitive to conflict and to change.

“She seemed comfortable in the garden,” Natalie murmurs, her normal edge is replaced with something softer.

“It’s her happy place. She was a private gardener for years before she got sick. It seems to be deeply ingrained in there.” I motion to my head so she understands what I mean.

“You keep the garden for her?”

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