Page 116 of This Time Around
“Six-and-a-half,” the old man answered with no hesitation. “It was August twelfth. Summer break.”
Paige nodded, seeming to digest this information. Jack’s hands felt useless and floppy, so he put them behind his back and stood like a marine at military rest.
At the head of the bed, Paige spoke again. “Tell me about him.”
“Who?” The old man frowned, but Jack saw something soften in his eyes.
“Tell me about my dad,” Paige said with no trace of impatience. “I want to know what my dad was like when he was a kid.”
The old man seemed to hesitate. Jack held his breath again. Over in the corner, Barbara looked like she was doing the same.
Paige unfolded her hands and lifted one, resting it on top of the old man’s gnarled one. All of them stared—Jack, Barbara, Jack’s father. Then the old man looked up and met his granddaughter’s eyes.
“I remember this one time when your dad was five,” he said. “I wasn’t around much by then, but I wanted to spend time with him. Do some bonding, you know?”
Paige nodded. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, we decided to hitchhike to Vegas. Just me and your dad, a couple guys seeing the west together. Man stuff.”
“That sounds fun.” Paige watched her grandfather’s face with rapt attention, her hand still on his.
“We had us a time!” The old man chuckled, and the spark in his eyes stirred Jack’s memory. Something warm and comforting in the archives of his childhood. “Sleeping under the stars, eating beef jerky for dinner and telling ghost stories. We caught rides with truckers who let your dad blow the horn at pretty girls.”
Jack stood frozen. He’d forgotten the jerky. Forgotten the horn. Forgotten everything but being abandoned. Not just in the car, but after that.
“So then what happened?” Paige asked.
The old man looked up and met Jack’s eyes. Neither blinked. Neither said a word.
Jack’s dad looked away first. He took a heavy breath and lifted his gaze to his granddaughter’s. “I screwed everything up when I?—”
“A lot of adventures,” Jack interrupted, stepping forward to put his hand on Paige’s shoulder. He looked at his father and gave a small nod. “Tell her about the jukebox, Pop.”
On the car ride home, Jack couldn’t stop stealing glimpses at his daughter in the rearview mirror. He didn’t know whether to be more impressed by her bravery, her empathy, or her conversational skills.
Seeming to sense his gaze on her, Paige met his eyes in the mirror. “What?”
“You.” Jack smiled and directed his gaze back on the road. “You did good in there, kid.”
“Grandma says I’m charming.”
Jack laughed. “That you are.” He signaled right and got into the slow lane to let traffic by. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For teaching me something important in there.”
“You mean how to do the armpit fart noise? I learned that from this girl in my class who went to summer camp.”
He laughed again and shook his head. “Yeah, I think your grandpa was pretty impressed.”
“I could tell.”
“I actually meant the other thing,” he said. “The fact that you talked to him in the first place. That you didn’t just stand there with your thumb up your butt like I did.”
“Ew,” she said with a giggle. “Well, you guys were being really boring. I thought someone needed to talk.”
“You’re right. And I appreciate that it was you. That you’re able to find the good in people instead of getting hung up on the worst in them.”
