“School is hard, man,” Lennon says, deadly serious.
I let out a startled laugh that I try to cover with a cough. I’m not entirely sure that I’m successful because Lennon frowns at me. I scramble to erase that look off his face. The last thing I want is for Lennon to not like me. I have enough of a hill to climb where he’s concerned as it is.
“Then I say we get both shirts and the hoodie. That way, you’re prepared.”
“I can’t. Mom will be upset, and she’s working really hard. I don’t want to make her work more, Jake.”
Something bittersweet hits me in the gut with his words. A seven-year-old shouldn’t worry about how hard his mother has to work. Surely, Jeff helped her with Lennon? Fuck, maybe he didn’t. I realize that I have no idea about the life that Katie or myson lived for the last seven years, and I don’t like how that feels and what it says about me. I mean, I didn’t know about Lennon, but I loved Katie once. I knew she and Jeff broke up for a while, and she was alone with a kid. I didn’t check on her once during that time. I was making good money. I have no excuses other than it hurt to see Katie and Lennon. It was seeing a life I chose not to have and missing it even though I was perfectly fine to live my life—while ignoring any and all thoughts of Katie.
I bend down so that I can look my son in the eye. “Hey, Len, buddy?”
“Yeah?”
“How about you let me buy your clothes?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I don’t have anybody but me to worry about, and I would like to help your mommy.”
“Do you get lonely?” Lennon asks, and I frown in a way that I can feel my entire face being drawn into the action. His simple question slices open a wound that has been festering for a long, damn time—seven years, if I want to get specific.
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes, I get lonely cause I’m the only kid at home. Archer has a baby sister, and he says she’s lame, but they play together. I was hoping Mommy and Jeff would get married so I could have a baby sister or brother. I don’t think that’s going to happen now cause Jeff left. So, there’s just me and you said you were alone. I figure maybe you get lonely like I do.”
“I reckon I do, Lennon,” I finally respond, throat tight.
“Mommy would get mad if I let you buy my extra shirts. She says I have to do chores to get what I want. That it’s her job to get me what I need. Adults are weird cause she gets me what I want sometimes too.”
I grin. “How about I get you the shirts and you can do some chores for me sometimes.”
“What kind of chores? I can’t clean my room at your house because I don’t got a room there,” he says, his little forehead crinkled up. He acts so grown up for seven. Is that normal? Shouldn’t he be all for me buying him extra stuff?
“I could use some help brushing the horses and things at Mom’s. You could help me when you’re visiting.”
“Really? I love horses! That’d be so cool!”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Yes!” Lennon cheers.
“Then we better go pay for your stuff.”
“Is it racing time again?” he giggles as I lift him back in the buggy with the three shirts he picked out.
“You know it,” I answer, my heart feeling lighter as Lennon’s laughter rings out.
We’ve checked out and are sitting on the benches by the exit door by the time Katie makes it to us. Her face grows tight as her gaze drops down to take in the four large bags already checked out and paid for. She looks up at me, and this is old school Katie. I’ve pissed her off recently. I used to think of Katie in terms of a Barbie doll, and it always pissed her off when I did. Still, it was easy to do. Back in the day, I would see what mood she was in, and I’d label her. There was Oh-Shit-I-Did-Something Katie, which usually meant she upset Callie or her grandmother and needed me to hold her and tell her it would be okay. There was Silent-Katie, and that could range from either I did something to hurt her, or she was just feeling sad because her mom was a bitch. She might have had Miss Hazel, but sometimes not having her birth mother hurt her. There was also Sassy-Saucy Katie, and whenever she made an appearance, it was a good day. Sweet-Katie usually made my heart ache. My favorite—because I was a teenage boy—was Horny-Katie, and I loved that Katie so much that I did my best to turn Sassy-Saucy Katie and Sweet-Katie into Horny-Katie whenever I could.
Since finding out about Lennon, I’ve seen Terrified-Of-Me-Katie, Hate-Me-Katie, and Lost-Katie. I didn’t encounter any of those in the past and I have to admit that I’m glad because I don’t especially like them. Right now, however, is a Katie that I’m intimately familiar with.
Pissed-Off-Katie.
“What did you do, Jake?” she huffs out, keeping her voice down but letting me hear her anger.
I always considered Pissed-Off-Katie a Barbie that was perched on the top of a powder keg. I needed to handle her with extreme care. If I did it just right, I could turn her into Horny-Katie too.
Since that goal is off the table and my own emotions are a little raw after spending time with Lennon, I just try to quickly head-off whatever storm she has brewing.