Stones in the Road (28 page)

“Mom!”

“—something about missing painkillers, the chief of surgery, putting in a resignation letter rather than getting fired. Any of this ringing any bells?”

“Why are you doing this?” Jackson asked.

She pointed her vape pen at me.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you what it means, Jackie. You’re a good boy, but you’ve got a darkness inside you—and this man and his son deserve better. What are they going to do when you get fired again? I didn’t much care when you were on your own, but now you’re talking about getting married and having children. Don’t you think it’s time you strapped on a pair of balls and dealt with your problem?”

Jackson lowered his eyes and shook his head slowly from side to side.

“You called the DHS?” I asked, incredulous—both that she had called and that she would admit it so freely.

“Yes, I did,” she said frankly.

“Eunice, I don’t think you should say any more,” her husband offered.

“Did Jackie tell you that the reason he dropped out of med school and decided to become a nurse was because he took so many drugs that his grades were spiraling into oblivion?” she asked. “If it hadn’t been for drugs, my son might be a doctor right now, but he decided he had to have his little pills and his little thrills. Isn’t that right, Jackie?”

“Mom, would you stop it?”

“Did he tell you about the time he crashed his Camaro? No? Surely he hasn’t forgotten. After all, he left a woman paralyzed from the waist down. Too bad about her two kids and her husband. He hasn’t mentioned it? Now isn’t that curious?”

She took another drag on her vape pen.

“You know, the problem with drug addicts is that they don’t really care about anybody but themselves. I’m not at all sure he’s the sort of man you want to marry, Wiley. And I’m not at all sure he’s the kind of father you want for your son. I’m quite sure that just the opposite is true. But I know my son. Oh, he can be so charming! But when you dig beneath the surface, there’s a little boy in there who is quite lost and doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, not only to himself but to those he claims to love. So before we leave, I thought I would put all of that out there on the table. Thoughts, anyone? Please. Discuss it among yourselves.”

We sat in stunned silence.

“Surely someone has something to say? No?”

Jackson had visibly paled.

I was utterly and completely floored into silence. My brain could not process what it was hearing.

Noah picked at his food, seemed unable to decide which of the fourteen forks he ought to use. He was oblivious to this conversation.

“I have to report to the DHS for a drug test tomorrow,” Jackson said in a whisper.

“Good!” his mother exclaimed. “And will you pass?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You don’t know? You, of all people, ought to know what it is you’re tossing down the hatch every goddamn day. You are, after all, a
nurse
.”

“I’ve been under a lot of stress!” he exclaimed unhappily.

“And the rest of us aren’t? Oh, really, Jackie, you do bore me with your endless excuses.”

“Why would you call them?” Jackson asked. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me, Jackie. I’ve been listening to you talk about Wiley and his son for two years now. I’ve looked at all the pictures you’ve sent. Such a handsome man you’ve fallen in with, and such a lovely little boy. And I came here, and I tried very, very hard not to like them, because, really, what’s the point? Eventually you’ll show yourself for the snake in the grass that you are and you’ll embarrass us all and I’ll never see them again.”

“Go easy on him,” Mr. Ledbetter ordered.

“Oh, it’s much too late for that, Stephen. We’ve been far too easy on him for far too long. I was going to keep my mouth shut, but then I read
Crack Baby
, and I realized Wiley is not the kind of man who’s going to put up with his nonsense. And if I could figure that out, then surely he could.”

She turned an angry stare on her son. “Don’t you get tired of hurting people? Don’t you get tired of hurting me? I decided that if you’re not going to strap on a pair and do the right thing, then by God I will, and I’ll bring this to a head. And what better way to do that but to call the DHS and share some very personal information about you? So now you’ve got a choice, Jackie. You can have your drugs, or you can have this new life you’re trying to build, but you can’t have both. You’ll either get clean and stay clean or you’ll go running off with your tail between your legs. Maybe you’ll go to Mexico next time. Or maybe you’ll go to hell. I’m not sure I care. But you’re not going to destroy this man’s life with your selfishness. And if you think I’m being a hard bitch, you just think about that woman in the wheelchair who will never walk again thanks to you and your quaaludes, or whatever it was you were taking that night. And God knows you’ve been through just about everything there is, haven’t you?”

Jackson put his face into his hands.

“I’m sorry, Wiley,” she said to me, reaching a hand across the table to touch mine. “But if you’re going to swim with the sharks, you’d better wake up and smell the chum in the water.”

T
HE
NEXT
morning I took a bunch of trash bags to Noah’s bedroom and got his things together—a few clothes, a few toys, stuff we had to have—before going to my own room and doing the same.

I didn’t care whether Jackson woke or not. I didn’t care whether he lived or died. I was in such a state he was lucky I didn’t have easy access to a firearm, because I might have shot the bastard right between the eyes.

I had not said a word to him since dinner last night. I was not one to give folks the silent treatment, but he had pushed me into an unfamiliar place that was way beyond anger, way beyond anything I had ever experienced. I felt betrayed.

He heard the crinkling of the plastic as I filled a bag with shorts, tanks, socks, and underwear. He rolled over, opened his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He sat, wiped his face. “You’re leaving?” he said at last.

“They must have been lying when they said your IQ test came back negative.”

“Wiley?”

“Lost in thought, are you? Want me to send a search party? I realize it’s unfamiliar territory for you.”

“What the hell?”

“Don’t talk to me!” I snapped.

He threw on a bathrobe. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re leaving. I suggest you leave me alone, because right now I want to take this cast and bash your fucking teeth in. And if you don’t believe me, I’ll be happy to prove you wrong.”

He paled at these words.

I had never been so angry.

“Wiley, please,” he said softly.

“Noah saw you sucking that shit up your nose,” I said. “You’d do that in front of my son? It’s taken me weeks to drag it out of him because he was too afraid to tell me what you’d done. How fucking dare you! In front of my child!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!”

“He saw me?”

“He gave me a little demonstration. Yeah, I’d say he saw you. Maybe next time you could teach him how to use a syringe, you fucking loser!”

Jackson looked horrified.

“And you know, I thought I could live with that, but then your mama told us about the woman in the wheelchair, and I’ve been thinking about that woman all night….”

“I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can. People like you always do. What if Noah had been in the car with you? What if he was the one you left in a fucking wheelchair?”

“I made a mistake!”

“A mistake? A
mistake
? You paralyze someone for the rest of their life, and it’s just a simple
mistake
? Jesus! Who the hell are you?”

I tied up one bag, dragged it to the door, grabbed another. It was almost impossible to get my stuff in the bags because of my cast, but I was not going to be put off. I yanked shirts and pants off their hangers and stuffed them inside.

“We can talk about this,” he said.

“No, we can’t talk about this,” I returned.

“Why?”

“Because you have nothing to say that I want to hear. I don’t care if your mommy’s a mean old cunt who didn’t love you. I don’t care if your daddy’s a shrink who made you feel inadequate. I don’t care if you’re some trust fund brat who doesn’t know what to do with all the millions he’s going to inherit. I don’t fucking care! You whine about having three people in this marriage. Well, you’re wrong, because there’s four people in this marriage. There’s me and Noah, and then there’s you and your fucking drugs. And you and your fucking drugs can go straight to fucking hell with all the other losers who don’t give a shit about what they do to the people who love them.”

“We’ll work this out!” he exclaimed.

“That’s what I’m doing right now, Jack. I’m working this out. This is how we do it down here in Dixie.”

“But where are you going to go?”

“What’s it to you? Why don’t you go take some more of your goddamn pills, you selfish prick?”

Jackson looked like I had just smacked him in the chops with a golf club.

I continued to pack, feeling suddenly embarrassed—ashamed—that I didn’t have suitcases, that I was packing my clothes in trash bags. It seemed symbolic of my whole life.

“Wiley, stop,” he said at last, coming over to me, grabbing the bag from me.

“I’m leaving!”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’d like to see you stop me!”

“You’re not leaving, because I am. Or I will. I’ll get a place somewhere. If that’s what you want, I’ll go. I’m not going to let you and Noah suffer because of me.”

“I can’t afford this place,” I pointed out.

“I’ll pay for it.”

“I don’t want your fucking money!” I shouted. “Haven’t you figured that out yet? I don’t want anything
from
you. I wanted
you
. There’s a difference!”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“You’re breaking my heart, and you think I’m being
unreasonable? I’ll show you how goddamned unreasonable I can be!”

He shrank away from me, as if afraid I was going to attack him.

Which I was. Or wanted to. I wanted to put my hands around his neck and choke the miserable life out of him.

Instead I sat down on the bed and burst into tears.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked miserably. “The one fucking thing you know I can’t stand… and you had to do it in front of my son! That’s what he didn’t want to tell you at Doctor Kemmer’s office. He was scared. Because of you! And he didn’t want to tell me because he knew you’d have to go away, and he was afraid I would go with you and abandon him—like his mama abandoned him. How could you do this to us?”

“I’ve been working a lot lately,” he said. “I get tired. I needed—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“We can work this out.”

“No, we can’t work this out.”

“Why?”

“Are you a complete moron?”

He fell silent, his face full of shame.

W
HERE
ARE
we going, Daddy?

Just get in the car.

But where are we going?

I said get in the car
!

Noah got in the passenger side of my old station wagon and buckled himself in, biting at his lip and looking scared.

I didn’t mean to scare him, but I was upset.

Jackson stood there, his face pale and drawn, like a man in a dream he can’t wake up from.

“Where are you going to go?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You can stay here. I’ll go.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“I’m sorry, Wiley. Tell me what to do to make this right! Please.”

“Leave me the fuck alone. That’s what you can do.”

I got in the car and slammed the door.

I
PULLED
into the parking lot at Food World, turned off the car. My shift started in ten minutes. I could not afford to take sick days. I was on the schedule for about thirty hours a week. At $7.55 an hour—well, you do the math. We needed every dollar. Those who took sick days quickly found their hours reduced as a punishment.

Because of the tornado and Papaw’s death, I had missed several days of work already, and my check for this week was going to be extremely thin. Food World had generously offered me one day off with pay in the event of a death in the immediate family. Let’s hear it for corporate largesse!

The gas tank was within kissing distance of empty, I noticed with despair. I had about thirty dollars in my pocket, less in the bank. Since I couldn’t afford to ask Miss Ora to babysit, Noah was going to have to come to work with me.

He sat now with his head bowed, hands in his lap, looking sad.

Are you okay
? I asked.

He shrugged.

You can help me bag groceries.

Okay.

If you get tired, you can wait in the break room. They all know you. They won’t mind.

Okay.

I know it’s boring….

It’s okay, Daddy.

After I get off work, we’ll figure out where to go.

All right.

I’m sorry, sweetie
.

He looked at me, tears in his eyes.

J’s not going to be my papa anymore
?

I shook my head.

Why?

He has a problem, and we can’t fix it.

Okay
.

While he said “Okay,” it was clearly not okay.

I’m sorry
, I said
.

It’s okay.

I know he’s your papa.

Will we see him again?

I don’t know. Probably.