Page 12 of When I'm Gone
Luke could think of nothing more awkward than leading the college girl up his stairs and into the clutter of his son’s bedroom. He shook his head. “No, he’s pretty grumpy when he wakes up. I’ll be right back.”
Clayton was born a poor sleeper, but with Natalie gone, he was horrible. He’d go to sleep all right, but he’d always wake up crying out for Mommy. Sometimes it would take hours to calm him down. The key was to get him as soon as the crying started. Jessie settled back on her stool, and Luke flew up the stairs, crying out, “I’m coming, buddy.”
When the door swung open, Clayton was lying facedown on the floor, sobbing, face buried in his arms. He slept in a little toddler bed in the corner. It was easy to get in and out of, and the three-year-old knew how to open the door, as Luke learned from all the times he decided to visit him in the bathroom. But lately Clayton never left his room without someone coming to get him.
“Buddy, I have a new friend for you to meet.” Clayton’s sobs slowed to sniffles.
“Is it Pete the Pirate?” He looked up, his sweaty blond hair curling at the ends.
“No.” Luke sighed. No one can beat an expectation of Pete the Pirate. He sat down beside the sniffling child on the floor. “She is a friend of Mommy’s. Mommy asked her to come help me take care of you guys after she ... went away.”
Clayton scratched at the trail of mucus running down his top lip. “She knows my mommy?”
Luke hated the present tense, like she was going to walk in the room any minute now and scoop him up in her arms.
“She knew Mommy. She’s very nice. We can be nice to Mommy’s friend, right?”
Clayton got up on his knees and used his sleeve to dry his face. “I know—I’ll show her my toy.” He ran to his tiny bed, rummaged through the ruffled covers, and pulled out a little pirate action figure with a red bandana painted on his head. Clayton’s eyes sparkled in a way they rarely did anymore. How long had he been walking around as a little shell of a boy without Luke noticing?
“Yep, buddy, sounds like a great idea.” He turned around, still on his knees. “Here, jump on my back; I’ll give you a ride down.”
Clayton’s arms barely met around Luke’s neck. When they clasped together under his chin, Luke looped his arms around Clayton’s legs and hefted him on his back. Clayton’s warm breath was hot against his cheek and a little sour.
Working hard to get a giggle, Luke jogged down the stairs, making sure to bump Clayton up and down with each step. He laughed and clutched his hands tighter, pinching the skin on Luke’s neck, which stung, a lot. But hearing his little boy laugh again made the pain easy to bear.
When they reached the kitchen, Luke was out of breath from the run, and Clayton from laughing. He flipped his son on the ground, making sure to help him land on his feet. As soon as Clayton noticed Jessie in the room, he put two fingers in his mouth, all laughter gone from his face. Jessie looked up from her iPhone and smiled. Her eyes seemed to take over half of her face when she smiled.
“This must be Clayton,” she chirped and knelt to his level. She held out her hand. “My name is Jessie. It’s nice to meet you.”
Clayton took his slobbery fingers out of his mouth and wrapped them around Jessie’s outstretched hand. Luke cringed, but surprisingly Jessie didn’t.
“I brought you a present.” She swiveled around on her knees and rummaged through an olive-green L.L.Bean backpack that was stuffed to the brim. When she found what she’d been looking for, Jessie kept her hand inside the backpack, turning on her knees to face Clayton. Up this close Luke could count the light sprinkle of freckles on her nose and cheeks.
“Your mom told me you love watching Pete the Pirate. Is that right?” She raised one eyebrow with the question like this was a serious interrogation.
“Uh-huh,” Clayton mumbled through the fingers in his mouth. “He’s da best.”
“The best? Well, maybe I should keep this for myself.” She flicked a red bandana out from behind her back, a perfect match to the one on the plastic pirate peeking out of Clayton’s front pocket. “Do you think it would look good on me?” She went to place it on her head and Clayton gasped.
“Oh!” He bounced up and down like he had springs in his heels. “Is that for me?” The fingers were out of his mouth, and Clayton was smiling right at Jessie. Even though Clayton had a wet face, disheveled hair, and a less-than-welcoming attitude, Jessie wanted to be friends with Luke’s boy. She must’ve really loved Natalie.
“Now that you mention it, I do think this would look better on you.” She held out the bandana in front of her, and Clayton snatched it out of her hand. He forced the folded fabric on his head and pushed it down until the folded edge touched his eyebrows. He took a step back as though she might change her mind at any minute.
“I need my ship, Dad. Can I get it?” Clayton squinted up at him, barely able to see through the layer of red material.
“Okay, dude! Go for it.” Luke laughed. Clayton started to run off to his room, but Luke called him back. “Wait! What do you say to Jessie?”
“Thank you, Jessie ...” Clayton shouted as he ran up the stairs. Luke raised his eyebrows, sincerely impressed.
“That went really well,” he said, offering his hand to help Jessie off the floor.
“He’s adorable.” Jessie took his hand briefly, her touch like a feather. She stood with a hop, ponytail bouncing. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”
“He’s a fun kid.” Tears burned in his eyes. Luke blinked them away quickly and focused on the random pattern of stone in the polished granite. He ran his hand across it, cringing at the thin film of crumbs and grime that stuck to his skin. “He doesn’t really understand what’s going on,” Luke continued, trying to wipe his hand off on his pant leg discreetly. “I’m afraid the poor kid’s going to turn orange from all the goldfish crackers he’s been eating.”
“Well,” she laughed, looking up at the ceiling where the thumps of toys being tossed on the floor echoed above them, “you’re clearly doing something right.”
It didn’t feel that way. In fact, he was pretty sure he was doing almost everything wrong. The only time he felt good about something he did in his post-Natalie life was when it was an “assignment” from one of her letters. Annie still thought it was 100 percent unhealthy, but it was the only way he could keep all the balls in the air and hold himself together at the same time. His father had used alcohol to escape from the pressures of real life; Luke indulged in those ratty notebook pages.
