Page 59 of Like Home
We exchange greetings and then sit for a while in silence that’s about as comfortable as an itch you can’t scratch in the middle of your back. We make small talk about the menu and then dwell in the collective relief when our waitress comes by. After we place our orders, Jared says, “So, um before we get talking about anything else, Ryan, I just want to apologize for being so rude to you. My therapist has helped me see that you’ve done nothing wrong and I was just taking my anger out on you.”
“And Summer,” I can’t help but add. If he was just pissed at me, I could have taken it no problem, but he’s been downright foul to her.
His eyes narrow before he takes a breath and his expression clears. He says, “And Summer. You’re right. I’ve already apologized to her and will continue to. If you had met me before all this, you would know that this isn’t who I usually am. It’s not an excuse, but it’s been a hard adjustment. Anyway, I’m sorry for how I acted and the things I said.”
I hold out my hand and say, “I forgive you, man. It's been a hard run for all of you. Clean slate?” He shakes my hand and smiles tightly. The tension surrounding our table releases slowly and we’re able to make pleasant small talk. Forgiving him is easier knowing it will make things better for Summer and Emma.
We dig into our meals and chat, feeling out this new dynamic with tentative hands. Honestly, when Jared’s not being a dick, I can see why people seem to like the guy. He mostly talks about his daughter (with a glowing reverence reserved only for goddesses and Emma apparently), and briefly mentions football with an eyeto Summer who checks out the moment we start comparing team affiliations.
We’re all leaning back, pleasantly stuffed with greasy diner food and sipping on our sodas when Jared’s phone rings. He scowls at the screen, silences it, and places it facedown on the table. A few seconds later, it kicks up again. He releases a long-suffering sigh and answers it. “What’s up, Duncan?” I catch Summer glaring down at the condensation ring her Coke leaves on the table and lean into her a bit so she knows I’m here with her. She nudges me back in acknowledgement.
“What? I can’t hear you, dude.” He looks around the diner, clearly not wanting to disturb anyone. Jared’s frustration is written in the angry slash between his brows as he stabs at a button on his phone.
Suddenly, Duncan’s voice is loud and clear when he says, “Bro. I got so shitfaced—” and with that, Jared slides out of the booth and strides across the diner towards the exit. Summer looks even more pissed, but I’m absolutely frozen.
She nudges my foot. “Ryan? You okay?”
I turn my rounded eyes from the table to her, and her eyes widen in response. “That's the voice,” I all but whisper.
“Huh?”
“The one who told me to pick up Emma,” I say quietly. Her face pales and her eyes get impossibly wider.
She hisses, “Are you sure? That’s the voice?”
“Almost positive. It was a little hard to make out, like I said, but it sounded the same.”
Summer stands, breaks into a light jog across the restaurant, and yanks a bewildered-looking Jared back towards our booth. He plops down in his seat across from me and shoots her an incredulous look when she wrestles the phone from him. All the while, Duncan is bragging about grabbing some poor serving girl’s ass, describing it in excruciating detail.
“This is the voice you heard?” Summer quietly clarifies one last time.
I wrinkle my nose in disgust and nod. Jared looks between the two of us, and says, “Sounds good, Dunc. I’ll call you back,” before ending the phone call.
“What did you say?” he asks me, brows drawn into a confused pucker.
“I said, that’s the voice I heard last week telling me to go pick up Emma,” I say, looking him in the eye.
His whole body recoils. “No. There’s no way in hell that Duncan would do something like that. I know he’s had some issues lately—”Summer’s scoff cuts him off, but he continues,“but you have to have gotten it wrong.”
“I told you it was him. I had a bad feeling,” Summer says, looking at Jared wearily.
I shake my head adamantly. I would know that voice anywhere because I’ve replayed it in my mind a thousand times since then. “No, I don’t think I’m wrong. I swear, other than some of the stuff I’ve heard about him and Summer, I don’t have any bad blood with him. He was annoying at the bar, but it’s not like it went anywhere. I have no reason to lie to you.”
“Didn’t you say the call sounded like whoever made it had bad service? You probably just didn’t hear it clearly enough,” he reasons, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.
Summer throws her hands up and hisses, “Why are you always so prepared to defend that asshole?” I wince as two of the older men sitting at the bar turn their heads to look at us.
Jared fixes her with a hard stare. “Because he’s like a brother to me. You know that! We’ve been friends since preschool. Like I said, I know he’s been struggling with getting his drinking under control, but he would never do anything that would jeopardize Emma.”
I speak up at that. “But this didn’t jeopardize Emma. As much as you may not have liked me, I think you knew that Iwould never harm your child. I’m sure if you and Duncan are as close as you say you are, he knows that too.”
Suddenly, Summer sits straight up. She covers her mouth with her hand and says, “Jared. Oh my god. Don’t you remember back in high school, when we first started dating, Duncan and some of your other friends prank called me? Duncan pretended to be you on the phone. I can’t even remember what he said, but I know it was something dumb and I was sure it was you. You spent the next few days convincing me it wasn’t. Remember? You even had him call me on the phone while you were next to me. That’s the only reason I believed you.”
I watch as the color slowly drains out of Jared’s face and then returns, turning him nearly purple. “That motherfucker,” he growls. He narrows his eyes at me, “He did this because of your run-in at his apartment. He called me afterward all up in arms because he said you were being a dick.”
“I wasn’t! I just told him that maybe he should lay off the drinking because he was stumbling around drunk in the middle of the day. How does that man even work a job? It seems like he’s always drunk,” I say, shaking my head in exasperation.
“He works with me,” Jared says uncomfortably. “I let him sleep it off in my office if he seems too out of it.”
