Page 17 of Joker
He has the bluest eyes I have only ever seen once in my life, and they belong to my girl.
Prez coughs to get my attention. I begrudgingly move to look at him.
“This lady’s name is Agnes, and the boy is Beau. She’s told me her story, but I’m going to let her tell you. Just hear her out and keep your mind calm,” he says firmly. Nodding my understanding, I look to the woman, Agnes.
She gives me a small smile and starts her story by handing me a letter. I instantly know the writing. With shaking hands, I open the envelope and start to read.
By the end of the letter, I can feel the tears streaming down my face. Placing the letter on the table, I look to my son. Fuck, I have a son. He also has tears streaming down his face. Getting up from my chair, I can see the pain on his face.
Does he think I don’t want him?
He was born from the love Carrie and I share. I turn as if I’m heading for the door, and I hear his intake of breath. He thinks I’m leaving him. I make my way around the table and drop down in front of him.
He slowly turns to face me. Raising my hand, he flinches, and rage powers through me. Whoever had caused my son to fear will die a slow and painful death. My protective father instinct kicking in already. I smile as I don’t want to scare him and gently wipe away the tears with my finger.
“I’ll never raise my hand to you, and I promise no one will ever hurt you again . . . Son.”
The last part comes out on a choke. The next minute I’m on the floor, and Beau is on my knee. I wrap my arms around him and hold him as tight as I can without hurting him.
I can hear soft sobs. I look at Agnes as she sits there and softly cries.
“Thank you, Agnes, for looking after and protecting my girl and my son. You’re family, and we will look after you.”
Nodding to Prez, he smiles.
“How old is the boy?” Prez asks.
“Beau, his name is Beau,” I correct.
God, the name hits me. Carrie and I used to love watchingSmokey and the Banditand joked once that if we ever had children, I would name them after the Bandit.
“He’ll be ten years old soon,” Agnes confirms.
Doing the math quickly in my head, I figure out he was conceived on Carrie’s birthday. The memory of that night is cemented in my brain forever and was the best night of my life for more than one reason now.
Looking at Prez, he nods.
“I’ll get the girls together to go get clothes, bedding, and anything else he might need. He’ll need a bed too.”
Still clinging to me, I lift him up. He’s so light. I need to get a proper meal in him.
“Come on, champ. Let’s get some food in you. What’s your favorite?”
“Jason. Beau hasn’t had many experiences. When it came to food, we ate what we could. He doesn’t have a favorite like a normal child,” Agnes confirms my worst fears.
“Thank you, Agnes. I think we will need to talk more later if that’s okay. I have a lot of questions. But first, my son needs me.”
I turn to look at my son in my arms. “Come on, champ, let’s see what we can find in the kitchen that you might like to try. You can have anything you want.”
Walking into the kitchen, I sit Beau down on the counter and turn toward the fridge.
“Right, my boy, what do you like the look of?” I ask, opening the fridge wide so he can look.
His eyes take in the whole fridge, and he looks down at his hands. Moving over to him, I gently lift his chin up.
“You can pick anything and everything you like. I understand you weren’t allowed to before, but I promise you will never be denied food again.”
His eyes still look sad, but he nods. He understands me. He looks back over to the fridge and seems to be closely inspecting each item. Pointing at a covered dish, “What’s that?” he asks with a shaky voice.
