Page 53 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

Then he looks toward the family photos lining the wall, toward the boys, toward everything we've spent these past years trying to survive.

When he speaks again, his voice is rough. “It's time.”

I swallow. “Dad...”

“It's time I stop sitting in this house waiting for things to go back the way they were.” The words settle between us heavy, honest, and heartbreaking. “It's your time now, and I don’t want to miss a thing.” His eyes come back to mine. “It's also time I remember that your brothers would've kicked my ass for hiding from life this long.”

A startled laugh escapes me. Dad nods toward my bracelet, toward the cross around my neck. “I carry them every day, too, Jade.”

The lump in my throat grows. “I know.”

He offers me his arm, “Ready?”

I look at him. Really look at him. The tie, the polished shoes, the man who raised us, the man who's been here, but I think is now finally fully coming back.

I slip my arm through his. “Yeah.”

“Me too.”

He turns off of our road, Fern Creek, and onto Cedar Ridge, the same way we’d go to Uncle John’s Farm, taking the long way. He’s avoided Union Street since the accident. It adds miles, adds time, adds absolutely no logical benefit. But it does shield him from seeing the scene, which still has two crosses planted in the ground. I’d see them when I rode the bus. I’d missed it the first several times, choosing to sit on the opposite side, but when I did see them, twin crosses, it made me angry, because who gave them permission to do that? Who did they think they were? But then I remembered that their loss was felt by a community, not just us. Anyone who’d ever met them knew they were charmers. Jason, in a flirty way, had blue eyes that lit up when he spoke to anyone —especially females, regardless of their age. He was such a flirt, made old women blush for no reason but those eyes. My eyes, our eyes. Jasper was a charmer too, but quieter; he made you feel seen, his mere presence a … hug or a shoulder to rest your head on. Alex was a quiet presence, too, but a friend to all. He’d say hello, and in a minute, he knew someone’s whole life story. I’d joked once about it, and he said, “People need to be heard, you know?” So, his refusal to speak for all that time was deafening. Ry? He’d be the first to... maybe not help an old lady cross the street, but carry her groceries, without being asked. When the four of them were together, it was⁠—

“Wants some music?” Dad asks, turning on the radio.

“Always.” I smile when Life Is a Highway plays; they’d have loved this song and hated that they did.

I lean back in the seat and watch the sunlight flicker across the windshield as cornfields blur past. I turn and see hay ready to be baled across the road.

Dad keeps both hands on the steering wheel, ten and two. Eyes concentrating harder than driving should require. But God, how I’d love it if his arm was stretched across the seat and…someone was tucked into his side.

“Are you ever going to date?” I ask, and he stiffens,

“Still feel like a married man.” He states.

“Are you⁠—”

“Jade,” he says, shaking his head.

“You deserve to⁠—”

“Baby girl, I’m wearing a tie and heading to church.” That’s all he says, that’s all he needs to say.

“Then it’s a good day,” I add.

“It’s a good day.” He states.

Smells Like Teen Spirit plays, and Dad chuckles, “They’d pick this.”

“Jason would be sliding into the living room, with a brush for a mic, and Jasper would walk in playing the air guitar.”

“Who says they aren’t doing that now?” He chuckles.

This question from Dad comes out of left field, very unexpected. It’s more like something I would say.

His chest rises and falls, chuckling silently. “Listen to me. I sound like you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I shake my head, smiling, feeling… perhaps hopeful?

“No, baby girl, it’s definitely not a bad thing.”