Jax, on the other hand, considered it a potential disaster. One he intended to be ready for.
“Do you plan to eat that burger or stare at it all day,” Matt teased, jabbing him in the ribs.
Jax’s fingers dropped the mangled edge of his paper plate, hoping guilt over the direction of his thoughts wasn’t plastered across his face. Matt wouldn’t appreciate it if he knew. Friendship had its limits, and Jax knew where Matt’s limit rested. He kicked at one of the patio stones in Uncle Sam’s backyard.
Sam Harrison eyed him with suspicion.
Could he tell?
Jax forced his lips into a smile. “No, Matt, you’re not getting my burger. Forget it. You’re a worse beggar than Rock.” The dog jumped up from his spot near Jax’s feet at the mention of his name. “No, Rock, you aren't getting any, either.” He lifted the burger and bit into it to make the point.
Why couldn't he simply sit and enjoy what was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon barbecue?
Matt shrugged, wolfing down his own meal. The man had a hollow leg when it came to food. For being only five foot seven, he could eat two times the amount of food that Jax could.
Jax closed his eyes to chew, popping them open again when his mind conjured two big brown eyes behind his closed lids.
There was no denying Seyla was beautiful, but she wasn’t right for him.
“Got any plans for the weekend?” his uncle asked him.
Such a simple question.
Jax eyed him, tempted to lie.
The same conversation kicked off the same way each weekend.
Matt stopped chewing and set his burger on his plate.
Jax stretched out in his chair, rubbed his fingers along his jaw. His relaxed posture belied the tension surging through hisbody. “I’m not going, Uncle Sam.” The quiet words cut through the air, followed by an awkward silence.
“She’s your mother, son,” he stated, his tone a reprimand. “Regardless of her mistakes, God says to honor your mother. Don’t you think it’s time you consider forgiving her?”
Jax sat up. “She made her choice a long time ago and left you to take care of me. Besides, Ellen was more of a mother to me than she ever was.”
Uncle Sam’s face softened at the mention of their old housekeeper.
A sweet and soft-spoken older woman his uncle’s age, she’d been the kind of mother Jax longed for. He’d always known Ellen and his widowed uncle would eventually date. They were a perfect match. Their makeshift family was perfect while it lasted, too. The death of his uncle’s daughter had devastated the man, though, stalling the relationship until a year ago. It comforted Jax to know his uncle and Ellen were officially dating again.
Having Ellen around had shown Jax the magnitude of his own mother’s neglect. His uncle had lost a wife, yet he hadn’t neglected his daughter, Amy. Or Jax. Although Jax’s own dad lived in his head only as a vague memory now, those memories consisted of a good father prior to the car crash and complications responsible for ending his life.
Uncle Sam had been a father figure for most of Jax’s life, taking him in, raising him as his own. After Amy’s death, despite the heartbreak, his uncle had remained steadfast regarding his love and support for Jax.
Unlike his mother.
“You’re right,” his uncle conceded. “And Ellen loves you like a son. But your mother loves you, too. And she’s changed. I can go with you if you’re nervous.”
“No.”
“I think you should go see her, too,” Matt added.
“Et tu, Brute?” Jax pulled an imaginary Shakespearean dagger from his chest.
Matt hedged. “I think it could…change some things for you.”
“She’s staying at an assisted-living apartment, now,” his uncle said. “It’s in Hanesville. You wouldn’t have to go to the old house.”
Jax’s chin shot back. She moved? Nonetheless, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going. People couldn’t abandon others and later on walk back into their lives when they felt the urge. “No. End of discussion.” He got up and carried his plate into the kitchen, unable to eat any more. He dumped the burger in the trash, along with his feelings. He had no room for people like her in his life. She had missed her chance.