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I interrupt, “Jonny can say anything that’s on his mind.”
Mom’s gaze shifts to me, comprehension lighting her face as we share an unvoiced communication. “Of course he can. But we should explain why they laughed.”
I take over. “People don’t always say what they’re thinking, Jonny.”
Dad holds up his hand to stop me. “But you keep right on doing it. Your dad is right. You’re a Cocker. You say whatever you want. In the outside world, a lot of people don’t and you’ll learn when you want to hold something back, on your own. But here?”
I finish, agreeing, “With family, be as honest as you can be.”
During hot fudge sundaes for dessert, which many claim as their favorite, conversations fall back into easy and light until Mom comes up with the best idea I ever heard. “Jonny, why don’t you stay with your grandma and grandpa tonight? It’s been so long since you did.”
Did she offer that to give me time alone with Willow?
“I don’t think I can.”
I frown, “Why not?”
Jonny shrugs, unsure of why he feels that way. He’s just a kid, but the conditioning his mother gave him of staying only at home — and above all else, not spending time with the Cocker family — is ingrained in his responses now. Rage builds in my chest, unasked for and inevitable.
“Of course you can stay at your grandparents house.”
Jonny lights up, “Really?!” furthering my anger at myself for letting it get this far. My heart aches at the hope in his voice. It should be certainty, something asked of him and answered by him without question. He should have had tons of sleepovers with his grandparents. They’re on the next property! Only acres away! But he’s been trained to not spend time with them. Rage gnaws at my bones, a volcano of feelings I haven’t dealt with. “Sure,” is all I can say.
Mom is watching me, worried. “Is that okay, Ben?”
“Of course it is,” I force a smile. “I think it’s a great idea.”
She gets up and hugs me while I stay seated in my chair. “I love you, Ben.” She adds with a whisper, “It’s gonna be okay.”
Dad says, “Jonny, you pick the movie. Any one you wanna see.”
“I don’t want to watch TV. I always watch TV at Grandma’s.”
“Cards?”
“Yay!”
“Cards, it is,” Dad smiles.
With me feeling heavy with anger, we all clean up after ourselves, and when the kitchen is too overrun, Sylvia shouts, “I’ve got this now! Everyone, out of here!” Laughter spreads and so do the people, heading off to do whatever they feel like with the remainder of their night.
I give the top of my son’s head a kiss as he goes to follow Mom and Dad out the door. “Think I’ll hang back a while.”
Dad walks over, and leans in to whisper, “Go get her.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ben
Iinvite Willow, in a low voice, “Take a walk with me?” while the others discuss what they want to do with their evening. Decisions come quick. Laura, Dax, and Sienna choose the freedom of creating in the arts and crafts room. “We get to paint alongside a master!” Sienna cries out, excited. Maggie and Pete take over one of the tables in the main room to challenge Steven for a card game three people can play. Marco and Michelle take dibs on the hot tub which, just by suggesting it, I get the vibe from the rest of the group’s reaction that they’re an item now — sideways looks, smirks, and desired absence my clues.
Wordlessly, with a quick blush of anticipation, looking beautiful, Willow accepts my invitation, and we head for the door. But before we go, she turns and includes the room as she addresses, “Sylvia! We decided we’d like to help you change rooms! Maybe tomorrow?”
Sylvia brightens with surprise, pausing her cleaning of the kitchen. “Really? That would make things go faster. Are you sure?”
Everyone within earshot voices agreement. Laura pokes her head in from the arts and crafts room. “Yes, we’re sure!” then disappears, muttering, “I think I need to use more colors this time. Be bold!”
Willow and I step outside, alone, Marco and Michelle heading upstairs to change. I say with a sense of mock danger. “I’ll protect you from the wild animals.”
