Page 103 of Crave

“Yeah, old man.” I look for shoes as I listen to the one-sided conversation. “What happened?” I peek out from my closet and look at Jake’s face, his eyebrows are raised to the middle of his forehead as he listens to whatever his father is saying on the other end. “Dad, I don’t think they will want me there.” He listens some more before he finally says, “Fine. I’ll go and stay until you and Mom can get there.”

CHAPTER 36

JAKE

Troy looks over at us, his eyes puffy and almost unbelieving at who he’s seeing. The usually put together and calm guy is frazzled. He has about three days’ worth of hair on his face. His khakis are wrinkled and stained. He’s trying to calm down Tristan and Emma and clearly having little success. Both kids run away from him as soon as they see me and Sandy.

“Uncle Jake! Did you come to see Mommy?” I scoop Tristan up and tickle him while Emma hugs Sandy.

“I came to see how everything’s going. You okay, buddy?” I ask, tickling him again. He throws his head back in laughter but makes no moves to get away from me.

“Yeah. Daddy was going to take me and Emma to the cafeteria. He says we can have French fries.” He lowers his voice when he says French fries as if he’s telling me a secret. “Don’t tell Mommy.”

“I won’t, bud. It’s our secret.”

“Troy, I can take them,” Sandy volunteers. “If it’s okay with you, that is.”

“Please!” both kids say at once. Troy nods without saying a word. I put Tristan down, and he runs over and takes one of Sandy’s hands while Emma grabs the other.

“Can we have some ice cream too, Uncle Troy?” Emma asks.

“Sure. Whatever you guys want. Just promise me that you’ll both behave and listen to whatever Sandy says.” The kids both agree. Sandy gives me a kiss on the cheek, but I turn my face and kiss her on the lips.

“Gross. If a boy ever kisses me, I’ll punch him,” Emma says, making a face like she just sucked a lemon.

Sandy laughs as she walks out of the room with both kids.

Troy busies himself with cleaning the mess the kids left behind. He gathers coloring books and puts crayons back in a plastic case. He shoves everything into a huge bag and tosses it on the floor. When there’s nothing left to busy himself with, he turns his back on me and stares out the window of the small waiting room.

“What’s going on, Troy?” I finally ask, realizing that he’s not going to volunteer any information.

“What the hell do you care, Jake? Why are you even here?” He runs a hand through his hair before shoving both hands in his pockets.

“Dad called. They’re on their way but won’t be here for hours. Luke’s on a flight to California. I figured you’d need some support.”

“Right. Just as I thought. You can go.” His back is still to me. He’s doing his best to appear unfazed, but I can see his shoulders sag, and I can tell he’s exhausted.

“I understand if you’re scared, Troy. You want to take it out on me, go ahead, but I’m staying. Why don’t you go sit with her since the kids aren’t here?”

I’m met with nothing but silence. He doesn’t turn his back for several minutes, and when he does, he fixes his green eyes on me.

“Don’t tell me what I need to do for my wife.Hername is Tracy. Tracy Clark. Deal with it. And she’s having tests done so I can’t go in there right now.”

I raise my hands up in surrender, nodding at his words.

“You’re a real piece of shit, do you know that?” he asks in disgust before turning his back to me again.

He’s afraid, I try to tell myself. He’s uncertain of what’s going to happen and needs a punching bag. I tell myself these things as I try to reign my acid tongue.

“Troy, I’m not the reason your wife is in the hospital. I’m simply here for support, so if you want to take all of your anger and stress out on me, go ahead.”

“Fuck you.”

I stand abruptly from my chair and walk towards the door. “I’ll wait for Sandy and the kids out in the hallway.” Before I can reach the door, he’s dashed across the room and holds the door shut.

“Always running away. You want to be here? Fine. Be here.” He lets go of the door and I return to my seat. “For the sake of my son and Emma, you can stay, but stop pretending that you care when you’ve cut me out of your life.”

“Troy,” I say, taking a deep breath, “whatever you want to believe, whatever history you’re rewriting in your head, I’m not the one who caused the fracture in our relationship.”

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