Page 6 of Guardian

I stood back, wringing my hands with worry as my son’s face became paler and his lips began to turn blue.

“Let me give him his inhaler!” I begged. “He’s going to die right in front of me.”

“Go ahead now,” Dr. Clark replied, motioning me forward. He was so calm in spite of my panic. “It’ll stop the attack for now, but it’s not going to be enough in the future. We’re going to need to upgrade him to a combination inhaler, which holds two different types of medications. One will end this kind of attack while the other is a long-lasting medication to keep this kind of attack from happening as often. He’s not a little boy anymore. His body can handle the more complicated combination now.”

I didn’t relax until Jackson’s color returned to normal. I found myself breathing in time with him as if that would make everything alright.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” my baby said as soon as he was able.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault you have asthma,” I answered, giving him a hug, one we both needed.

“I don’t like fighting with you. But please don’t get Kirk kicked out. He’s a good guy. I know he looks scary, but he’s nice to me. He’s the one who made me stop cursing around you and told me do my chores without whining. I don’t care how he looks orwhat the tattoos mean. He’s not like the men you told me about,” Jackson stated.

I didn’t want to fight anymore either, so I said, “I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises. I’ve seen what men like him do in the past. They’re good at pretending, then they turn on you just like the snake on his neck would if it was cornered.”

“Not Kirk,” he replied with conviction.

We left the doctor’s office with a stack of papers to read about the new inhaler and a prescription for it. I was relieved to see that Jackson was back to normal and asking for pizza. As a peace offering, I relented and bought a pepperoni one on the way home.

We’d barely gotten in the house when my cell phone rang. It was Mitch.

I didn’t want to answer because I instinctively knew what was coming. He was going to cancel his visit once again.

I sent Jackson to the kitchen to pour us some sodas over ice then answered the call.

“Don’t say it, Mitch,” I ordered. I paced the floor, my hand on my hip. Sometimes, it was like talking to an out-of-control child. Mitch had no idea how to be an adult, much less a father.

“Don’t you dare disappoint our son again! You promised to pick him up for breakfast and spend the day at the lake with him to make up for not being around as often as the court allows. You’ve already canceled four out of the last five times. It hurts him when you do that, whether you give a damn or not.”

Personally, I hated that the man still had to be around, but the courts had thought it best Jackson had a father figure still. I didn't argue that since I had at least gotten to escape Mitch's hold on me, and Jackson wanted his father even if the man was useless.

“Don’t give me a hard time, bitch. I’ve got business I can’t reschedule,” he replied, and I knew just what kind of business hemeant. One of these days, the courts would see he still had his hands in criminal activities and take his rights away.

“I can’t waste time with the kid when I need to make money. You know as well as I do that these men don’t wait around. You take him to the lake if it’s so damn important. There’s nobody after your hide, so you can play around like you’re special or something. I don’t have that privilege. Nobody handed me a college degree.”

I shook my head, Jackson's footsteps alerting me he was coming back toward me. Why did his own father not see Jackson's importance?

I quieted my voice. “Nobody handed me one either. I worked hard for it while raising our son all alone. Because of you, I’m always on alert. Do you truly think I’ve forgotten the threat made on our lives when Jackson was a baby? That fear seeps over onto everything in my life. It caused an argument with Jackson that sent him into an asthma attack today, not that you care about his health anyway. You owe your son some one-on-one time. He needs a father.”

Mitch scoffed. The fight was a waste of my energy. “He’s got you. I don’t have time to be the pansy-assed kind of father you think I should be. The kid needs to get a backbone. If he toughens up, he won’t have those damn attacks. I think they’re bogus, anyway. Tell him I’ll see him when I see him, and I'll make it up to him then. If all works out, I'll have all kinds of cash to spend on him. That’s the best I can do,” Mitch said before hanging up.

“That was Dad, wasn’t it?” Jackson asked from the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah, I’m afraid it was,” I answered, not hiding my disappointment at how this was going to make Jackson feel yet again.

“That’s okay. I didn’t expect him to show up. He’s never into having fun or hanging out when he picks me up anyway. He spends most of the time on the phone doing business.”

I hated the sadness I could see on his face, but I also knew he was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t expecting his dad. It was sad to realize my son was aware of how flaky his father was.

My son deserved better.

Chapter 4

Jackson refused to lookme in the face the next time I saw him. His head hung down, and he shuffled his feet as we headed into the diner for his favorite burger.

“Do you want to let me in on what’s got you so quiet and downhearted?” I cocked my head at him. “That’s part of why I come around. I don’t mind listening to any gripes, fears, or problems you have. You don’t need to carry that kind of stuff on your shoulders, and I know that it’s rough to feel you can’t lay more problems on your mom. You probably don’t want to make her burden harder,” I probed as we found a booth.

“I don’t want to make you mad,” he declared.

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