Page 77 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
“It’s okay,” Davy said, standing up in his booster seat to grab a chocolate chip waffle before Ben had even finished setting them down. “Unkie Owiver is made of pancakes.”
Ben arched a brow and looked from Davy to Oliver.
Oliver laughed and shrugged. “What can I say? He’s right—I’m a pancake man.”
Wednesdays were Ben’s day off from his restaurant, so the brothers took their dad into town to have some time together without Noah and Davy interrupting every two seconds.
They found a sunny table on the back patio of a coffee shop. Oliver had had a chance yesterday to catch up with them about the family in general: how the boys were liking preschool (favorite thing ever!), how business at the restaurant was going (solid, although there was a lull with people out of town for summer vacations), and whether the home nurse service was working out (they were patient and knowledgeable and Richard rated them five gold stars. He’d given them a couple days off, though, since Oliver was in town and able to help).
Now, however, Oliver needed to broach a different topic with his dad and Ben. As soon as their coffees arrived, he cleared his throat.
“Uh-oh,” Ben said. “Sounds like something serious.”
Oliver shot him aShut up I’m your big brotherlook.
Richard smiled at his grown boys, almost identical to how Elsa had looked at Noah and Davy this morning.
“It’s about Jennifer,” Oliver said.
Ben suddenly found the milk in his latte very interesting.
“She showed up at my apartment in New York, out of the blue,” Oliver said. “Which is curious, because I haven’t talked to her in years, and no one knows my address there except you two and Elsa.”
Richard started scrubbing an imaginary spot on his wheelchair’s armrest.
“That’s it?” Oliver asked. “Neither of you has anything to say about this? Not even, ‘Oh gosh, how surprising that Jennifer showed up at your door asking for money. I wonder how she knew where to go!’?”
Ben grumbled. “Fine. It was me. But she’s different now, I swear.”
Oliver sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Yeah, right.”
“Really,” Ben said. “She came to the restaurant, and… we talked. The thing is, she had a lot of time to think in prison. And when she got out, the first thing she wanted to do was meet her grandsons. How could I deny that?”
“Because she’s a poison on anything she touches,” Oliver said.
Ben shook his head. “She’s family. I know she screwed up when we were younger, but she wants to change and become a better woman. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
Oliver jammed his hands into his hair. How could Ben forgive Jennifer so easily? Didn’t he remember the utter destruction she had rained down on them in the past?
But maybe not. Oliver had to remind himself that Ben had been younger, and that Oliver himself had protected him from some of the worst of their mother.
“She was real good with the twins,” Richard said. “Being a grannie suits her.”
“Dad,” Oliver said, “I love you, but I don’t trust you on this topic. You’ve never been able to say no to Jennifer.”
“She’s a charmer. That’s why I fell for her. Even after everything…” Richard shrugged like he couldn’t help it. He and Jennifer had finally gotten divorced right before she went to prison, but Oliver knew a part of his dad would always love her. He had been hostage to her charisma—and the cons that resulted from it—for most of his adult life, and it was hard to shake Stockholm syndrome when the captor was your wife.
“Mom wanted to find you in New York to make amends,” Ben said. “She doesn’t intend to intrude on our lives, just wants to start over. Like I said, she had a lot of time to think while she was locked up, and I really believe that seeing Noah and Davy sealed it for her. She’s done with selfish get-rich-quick schemes. She wants to try to make the world a better place now for her grandsons.”
“So you told her where I live,” Oliver said. “And, presumably, gave her the train fare and money for a place to stay?”
“Er… and your phone number,” Ben said. “She said she was going to call ahead of time, not randomly show up at your door.”
Oliver tried to keep his cool. But he drummed his fingers hard on the table, sending ripples through their undrunk coffees.
Richard reached over and put his hand over Oliver’s, stilling the movement.
“If you had a chance, son, to make a small difference in society, would you do it?”
