Page 25 of You’re Mine

Once we’re inside, the beautiful woman starts moving more hesitantly, tiptoeing up the stairs. We get to the second-level landing and she puts Jamie down.

“Should we do his room first, and then mine?” She’s whispering, but I can hear the slight panic in her voice. I see a bit of an opportunity to show Haley that I can be there for her. It’s a small gesture, but it’s a start.

“Why don’t I help Jamie, and you can pack in your room?” Haley’s beautiful brown eyes somehow get larger.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she bites her lip, clearly worried.

“It’s fine, Mommy. I can do this.” Jamie’s face is determined. The little dude really is something. Haley laughs quietly and nods.

“Okay, just listen to your dad and, remember, only take what you really, really need. We can’t bring a lot of stuff.” He gives a determined nod and then we part ways, Haley going to the left, and Jamie leading me to the right.

“Come on, this way,” he whispers while opening a door. The first thing I notice is how barren it is inside. Nothing about the room says a child lives here. There’s a small child-size bed and a chest of drawers in one corner, but not a lot else. There are no toys, no pictures on the walls, and the bedspread is a dull grey color.

The sneaking suspicion I had when I first got here is confirmed. Basically, Herb created a prison for his family to live in. The lack of light, the gloom, and Jamie’s bare bones furniture tell their own story. It sickens me. Haley and my son have been living in a hell-hole for years. Years! And I came here to brag about what? The fact that I made ‘something’ of myself? That I have money? None of it matters anymore, not when my son is living like this.

Jamie shuffles through his drawer, pulling out clothes and putting them into a bag he grabbed from under his bed. I’m worried he might be overpacking, but I’m so new in his life that I don’t want to overstep.

“Are you sure you want to bring all those clothes, buddy?” is my gentle question. He looks up.

“I’m only bringing three days of clothes,” he says. “It’s all I have.” It takes me a second to realize that my son has just enough stuff to last three days before they do laundry again. I remember living like that, but it was because my family was poor. Herb has the power to actually provide for his kin, but all he does is deprive them. A child shouldn’t have to live like this when so much more is possible. A lump rises in my throat.

“Don’t worry about that, little dude. If you need more clothes, in fact, if you need more of anything, I can get it for you. I promise.” This is the first time I have all this money for a reason. I finally have someone else to live for.

Jamie wrinkles up his nose and shoots me a shy smile.

“My Mommy calls me that.”

“What?”

“Little dude,” he says in a small voice. My heart swells because I’m pretty sure I just made my first meaningful connection with my son. He goes back to packing, and I swallow hard again. How much have I missed of my son’s life already?

Within minutes, Jamie’s done. His bag is mostly empty, but I don’t say anything.

“Ready,” he pronounces.

He stands in front of me, lugging his little duffle. Even though he didn’t pack a lot of stuff, I saw him put a few books in there, so it’s probably kind of heavy for a little kid.

“Do you want me to carry that for you?”

“That’s okay, I can do it,” he says before swinging it up to his shoulder. It’s remarkable because he looks like a little carbon copy of me. From a young age, my family situation put a lot of responsibility on my young self. I like to think I turned out okay, but my son shouldn’t have to go through mountains of shit just to end up ‘okay.’ He should go through life knowing I did my best for him.

Gulping, I kneel down. Jamie looks at me, waiting.

“Listen, I know you just met me, and you probably have a lot going through your head and it might be a lot asking you to trust me, but I want you to know that I’m here to help. You don’t have to – you don’t have to carry all this weight, little dude.”

His eyes narrow, and he tilts his head, a little confused.

“So you want to carry my bag?” I chuckle because my wires are a little tangled right now. But it seems like Jamie gets the basics of it.

I pat his shoulder.

“Yeah, I want to carry your bag.” His fingers tighten on it for a second, but then, he shrugs it off his shoulder and hands it to me.

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