I shrugged, leaning back against the gray leather seats. “I guess I did.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you,” he scratched his chin.
“Hey,” I cried, giving his shoulder a slight push—I was trying to watch myself with the hitting and smacking, even in jest. The last thing I wanted was to turn into my dad. Maybe that wasn’t the kind of thing most girls worried about, but I wasn’t most girls. “I can be funny.”
“Anyone can be funny,” he agreed, “but you’re always so serious.”
I frowned. He was right. I spent far too much time being a Debbie Downer.
“I’m trying,” I whispered, playing with my fingers instead of looking at his face. My voice was soft, almost scared sounding.
“I know,” he reached over, smoothing a finger over my cheek with his eyes still on the road, “and it makes me undeniably happy that you are.”
Jude turned down the road that led to the farm and parked his truck. “We’re going to hang out on the farm for a while, but I figured you’d want to see Pap first.”
“Of course!” I cried, hopping out of the truck and running towards the door.
In the short time I’d known him I’d already begun to think of Jerry as my own grandpa.
We found Jerry sitting in a recliner watching TV. He grinned happily when he saw us. “Andrew! Julia!”
My smile fell a bit.
“Hi, Jerry,” I chimed, determined not to let the hurt show.
He reached out and clasped my hand, patting it. “It’s been quiet around here without you two. I’ve missed ya.”
“Missed you, Pap,” Jude ruffled the old man’s hair playfully.
“Boy,” Jerry scolded, “don’t mess with the hair.”
Jude chuckled. “Pap I’m just going to show…Julia…around the farm for a while. We’ll see you later.”
“Do you want me to make lunch? Dinner?” Jerry made as if to rise from the chair.
“Why don’t you leave that up to us,” Jude suggested. “You do so much for me. Let me take care of you for a change.”
“Nonsense,” Jerry waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not like it’s that big of a deal.”
Jude sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he’d never win an argument against Jerry. “Alright, Pap. Make whatever you want.”
“How about spaghetti with homemade meatballs?” His eyes brightened.
“Sounds delicious,” Jude agreed. “We’ll see you later,” he said again, but this time we actually made it out the door.
Jude didn’t say anything as we walked towards the big red barn. I could see the worry etched onto his face though. I knew him well enough now to see that. Jude worried immensely about what he’d do once his grandpa was gone. It broke my heart. His grandpa was the only real family he had left.
“Hey,” I stopped him just outside the barn, “it’s okay.”
He looked down at the ground, kicking his boot against the dirt. “It’s really not,” he swallowed thickly. “It tears me apart when he doesn’t remember who I am. The last person I want him to think I am is my father. That man…” Jude shook his head and trailed off. “Before and after my mom left, I was treated as a play thing. Something shiny and bright to help the
ir image. My mom told me all the time that they never wanted kids, but when she got pregnant they decided to use me to their advantage.” He kicked the ground harder, a cloud of dirt puffing up. “I was a thing to them, not a person. I was only wanted when I was useful and banished when they were through with me. Having Pap call me by my dad’s name…” He glared out towards the meadow beyond. “I hate it, but I can’t say anything. I have to play along. I used to fight him on it, tell him I was Jude, but he would get frustrated and think I was messing with him. I learned early on it was best to pretend I was who he thought I was.” Jude sighed, his dark eyes haunted. “The things we do for the ones we love.”
With a shake of his head, he turned and opened the barn doors, effectively dropping the conversation.
I chose not to say anything about what he’d just told me. His rigid stance told me he didn’t want to talk about it.
“What are we doing?” I asked, and I could see him visibly relax with the knowledge that I wasn’t going to batter him with questions.