He looked at Jax.
“Want to hold him?”
Jax went pale.
“I don’t want to break him,” he said.
“We’ll make sure no one gets dropped.”
“You won’t,” Daniels said. “He already knows you.”
Jax glanced at me.
“Sit,” I said. “We’ll make sure no one gets dropped.”
Advertisement
He sat on the couch. Daniels gently placed Theo in his arms.
Jax held him like glass, big hands careful.
“It’s like he remembers.”
“Hey, little man,” he whispered. “Round two, huh?”
Theo blinked up at him and reached out. His tiny hand grabbed a fistful of Jax’s black hoodie.
He held on.
I heard Daniels inhale.
Advertisement
“He does that every time he sees you,” he said. “It’s like he remembers.”
“Maybe a small assembly. Local paper.”
My eyes stung.
Daniels pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Jax.
“I talked to your principal for me, please,” he said. “I don’t want what you did to go unrecognized. Maybe a small assembly. Local paper.”
Jax groaned.
“Oh my God,” he said. “Please no.”
Advertisement
“Every time I look at my son, I’ll think of you.”
Daniels smiled a little.
“Whether you let them or not,” he said, “you should know this: every time I look at my son, I’ll think of you. You gave me back my whole world.”
He turned to me.
“If you ever need anything,” he said, “for him or for you—call me. Job reference, college recommendation, whatever. You’ve got someone in your corner.”
“Am I messed up for feeling bad for that girl?”
Advertisement
After he left, the house felt softer.
Jax sat there, staring at the card.
“Mom,” he said eventually, “am I messed up for feeling bad for that girl? The one who left him?”
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “She did something awful. But she was scared and 14. You’re 16, which isn’t much older. That’s the scary part.”
He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“We’re basically the same age.”
Advertisement
“We’re basically the same age,” he said. “She made the worst choice. I made a good one. That’s it.”
“That’s not it,” I said. “You heard a tiny, broken sound and your first instinct was to help. That’s who you are.”
He didn’t answer.
Later that night, we sat on the front steps in hoodies and blankets, looking at the dark park.
“Even if everyone laughs at me tomorrow,” he said, “I know I did the right thing.”
By Monday, the story was everywhere.
Leave a Comment