23. EDDIE

Chapter twenty-three

EDDIE

S unday evening quickly blended into Monday morning, divided only by a short, unpunctuated sleep. The task of preparing Jared for school unfolded in the morning, a series of mundane tasks, the kind that a parent instinctively performs for their child. I had had enough presence of mind to check that he at least had clean clothes when we got back.

I yelled up the stairs for him to get up, but he didn't. The smell of breakfast didn't wake him. Eventually, I went up and banged on his door. Jared, still groggy from sleep, shuffled out of his room, his hair tousled, yawning.

"Hey, Eddie."

"You all set?"

"Yeah," he said unconvincingly, yawning. "Gotta shower."

He went into the bathroom, and I heard the faucet run.

"You've got twenty minutes before you have to go."

"Okay," from beyond the door.

Getting back to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast – cinnamon bagels in the toaster, coffee being brewed – filled the air. We sat together at the kitchen table in silence and enjoyed our meal, sharing breakfast together.

As the time for him to leave for school got perilously close, I rushed Jared to gather his belongings. Eventually, a text sounded on his phone.

"That'll be Eric and Chili saying they're at the end of the street."

"Chili?" I asked.

He grinned.

"Yeah, that's his real name."

"Wow." The two of us gazed at each other. This was his first day back since his mom had died.

"You've got this, buddy," I reassured him.

"Yeah, I know. I can feel it."

He didn't leave at once. Another text bleeped: his friends must have been urging him out.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

He looked like such a child just then, waiting to say something, uncertain. He looked up at me, all big, round eyes, that looked a little wet with emotion.

"Thanks for everything," he said. "Max told me I was lucky to have you. That he didn't have someone like you. So, like, thanks."

I reached out a hand and patted his arm, but to my surprise, he moved forward and hugged me loosely. I felt him breathe out and heard the emotion that was in him just then.

I was not his father, but I felt then for the first time what the emotion was in being a father.

***

For the next couple of hours, I tried to head off the most pressing of my Monday-morning work emails and also a few things emerging from the situation I found myself back home.

I did a lot of this, just lying on the couch in the living room, and once the worst was done, I found the weekend of sunshine and swimming catching up with me. Lying there, I started to drop off to sleep.

I was in that state where you are trying to avoid going under, and now and then, catch yourself doing it and shake yourself back, only to do it all over again a minute later.

But just as drowsiness began to claim me, a bleep from my phone jolted me awake. Opening my eyes fully and sitting up, I reached over and grabbed the device from the floor where I had left it.

Squinting blurry-eyed at the screen, I saw it was a text from Max.

Thank you for such a great weekend

I smiled and was about to reply when, a few seconds later, a second appeared.

Is today too soon to come over???? Is that okay??

With my heart in my mouth, I composed my response.

Yes come