Jet

Staring down into the wide green eyes of my son, tears threaten mine while my hand tightens around his. He asks, “Does that make me a Crow?”

I tap his nose. “You’ve always been a Crow, but you’re lucky to have such a cool last name like Barnett.” Kneeling, I add, “Looks like you’re coming home with me, little man.”

He smiles, reassuring me, reminding me of his mother. Cassie and I were casual, or so I thought. I guess she was a little more serious than I was even though I’ve never had a bad thought about her. She told me I broke her heart, so when she kicked me to the curb, I was left dumbfounded. I thought I must have deserved it, that I wasn’t good enough for her. Back then, I was all ego and attitude on the surface, but on the inside, I was struggling to deal with my mother’s death. I’m not sure I’m any better now, but let’s hope so since I was just given a chance to earn full custody of this little human.

I’ve thought a lot about the time I spent with Cassie, thinking of this child and wishing I’d known she was pregnant before we went our separate ways.

Alfred Jet Barnett.

My son was born eight months after the fight that ended us for good.

Almost seven years later, he gives my hand a little squeeze and says, “It’ll be okay. I’ll make ramen noodles.”

“You know how to make ramen?”

“Yes. Hannah says it’s good, and they make us feel less sad on bad days.”

“Are you having a bad day?”

“I was happy, but then I saw Grandma and Hannah. They’re sad. That makes me sad.”

“They want what’s best for you. We all decided that for the time being that all of us getting time with you will be best.” Glancing across the aisle of the courtroom, the woman whose happiness was traded for mine stands staring down at her hands. I miss those hands, the softness of her hands against the roughness of mine.

Fuck. It’s not just her hands I miss.

I miss her.

She pulls a tissue from her pocket and wipes her eyes, making me feel bad for how things turned out, my heart hurting for hers. It makes me wonder how she would feel about me if she had won.

We didn’t know how entangled our lives were when we first met. They’ve become more twisted since. When our eyes meet now, I understand the sadness I saw in them then, but I’ve layered more troubles to make them grayer.

Alfie is my son, though. I get that Hannah Nichols is protective of him. She was there when I wasn’t, but it wasn’t by my choice but his mother’s. I’m here now, and it wouldn’t be right to let someone else raise him when I created him. He’s not just a responsibility. He’s a part of me.

Hannah may be sad to lose him full time, but we’re both stuck in this odd temporary arrangement of shared custody for the next two months. I’m determined to make her see that I can be what he needs long after this deal expires.

When I stand, she leaves her aunt’s side, comes over, and bends in front of Alfie. Taking his free hand, she says, “My number is in your bag. Call me anytime you want—day or night. If you need anything—”

I say, “I’ll make sure he gets whatever he needs.”

Standing up, she tightens her mouth into a straight line, her eyes blazing with the things she wants to say. Her tongue is still slick, willing to burn me with an insult. “You’re new to parenting.”

“I’ll learn.”

“What happens when he gets a fever?”

“I’ll call his doctor.”

“What about if he falls off his bike?”

Crossing my arms over my chest in annoyance, I reply, “I’ll make sure he’s wearing a helmet before getting on.”

“And if he scrapes his knee?”

“Then he scrapes his knee and we’ll bandage it.”

“What about—”

“Is this a pop quiz?”

Her shoulders fall, and she looks down. “I’m sorry. I just—”

That’s when I see her, the real her, the girl I once knew for a night when the world wasn’t trying to ruin everything good we had. Reaching out, I touch her wrist, tempted to encircle it with my hand. It’s small enough, at least in comparison. It’s probably just a memory making me want things I can’t have. I shove down my personal wants because they don’t matter anymore. When she looks up, I say, “I understand. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Her aunt snaps, “Hannah.”

“I’ll be right there,” she replies, looking back. Eileen Barnett has not said two words to me since she walked in. She barely acknowledges my existence, but she had plenty of nasty things to tell the judge while I sat there and bit my tongue.

All of it bullshit she’s made up in her head.

I defended myself as if I was charged with the crime of taking her daughter out on a few dates. I was nineteen when I met Cassie. I wasn’t in love, but I liked her a lot. Her mother never approved of me, and even then, my gut told me she was behind the change in Cassie’s feelings for me too.

Hannah dips down again to hug Alfie, so tight as if she’ll never see him again. Desperation coats her voice and mingles with the tears she’s stifling. “I’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies with his arms around her neck. He kisses her on the head and smiles. “I’m going to make ramen noodles for Jet. Just like I make for you.”

“Your specialty.” Her smile is wide, but I can see it’s put on for him. When she stands again, she says to me, “Two days. Please have him ready at noon.”

“We’re not enemies, Hannah.”

Her hands fly to cover Alfie’s ears, and she grits her teeth. “Don’t talk about us in front of him. There is not an ‘us’ except when it comes to him. For him, we have to stand as a united front, not talk of being enemies.”

Her anger is palpable, but I have a feeling it’s more than anger she’s feeling. The pain is heard in her voice. I want to make her feel better, to ease the heartbreak that rivals her joy, but I also have a right to spend time with my son and a chance to get to know him without an audience judging everything I do. Time with him was stolen from me prior to now, and I intend to make up for it. “We should get going.”

Stepping back, she gives us space. “You have my number if you have any questions, Mr. Crow.” We’re back to Mr. Crow again?

“You don’t have to be formal with me. Jet will do.”

“I’m not sure—”

She was damn sure of my name when she called it out three times. “It seems our past is clearly another time and place, far from this reality.”

Reaching to cover Alfie’s ears again, she snaps, “I made a mistake.”

Her claws come out when she feels threatened. Good to know. “We weren’t a mistake. You may have walked away that day, but I could see it meant more than you were letting on. You were just too caught up in your head to recognize what we were.”

“Caught up in my head? My cousin was fighting for her life. I’ve not had the luxury of being caught up in my own head in longer than I can remember. So don’t come at me like we were more than . . .” She stops talking and looks around. Her aunt is impatiently waiting at the doors to leave. Her hands tighten over Alfie’s ears, who’s looking a little annoyed, and she whispers, “For Alfie’s sake and mine, let’s forget anything ever happened between us.”

Impossible, sweet Hannah. She really has no clue . . . Leaning in, I whisper in her ear, “It will be hard to forget one of the best nights of my life, but I guess I’ll try.”

My confession seems to catch her off guard. Her lips part as I pull back, and she stares into my eyes. Just when I think she’s about to say something, she takes a deep breath instead and drops her hands to her sides. “He should be in bed by seven, and his favorite nightlight is in the bag. Make sure he brushes his teeth both morning and ni—”

“Got it. See you Friday.”

Alfie smiles. “Bye, Hannah.”

“Love you,” she says, causing me to look back. Her eyes dart from Alfie’s to mine.

“Love you, too,” he replies as we walk out of the courtroom and into the lobby where my brothers have been waiting. He’s looking around, over his shoulder, and back down the open lobby. I know he’s looking for his grandma. “Where’s Grandma?”

Though I wish she didn’t, she can hate me all she wants, but Alfie, he doesn’t deserve anything less than love and support. “I don’t know, buddy. Maybe she’s outside. Let’s go look.”

Rivers says, “Go get the truck, Tulsa.”

Tulsa doesn’t question the order. He feels the tension. We all do.

When we exit, she’s still nowhere to be found. I really hope she doesn’t make this situation worse by her actions, judging by her words inside.

My brother’s Bronco is parked at the curb, so we follow Rivers down the steps. I stop Alfie just out of hearing distance from everybody else and squat so I’m at eye level. “My home is your home. Are you ready to go see it?”

Out of the corners of my eyes, I see her walking to her car in the distance. Her aunt is waving her hands, furious if I’m reading her body language correctly. “Hey, there’s your grandma.”

“Grandma,” he shouts, dashing toward her.

Standing there, I watch carefully. I won’t let her hurt him. He won’t be a casualty in her war. I’m relieved when she hugs him. He jumps up into Hannah’s arms, and she squeezes him tight, just as tight as he hugs her.

She dabs her eyes with tissues and then to him, she nods my way. When he comes running back, I feel her eyes on me and look up. Giving her a little wave, I open the door for him. “Climb in.”

He asks, “How about ice cream?”

I laugh. “Nice try, kid. Dinner first. Ice cream after.”

“Oh, man,” he says, sounding disappointed as we start walking again. “I thought this would be fun.”

“Fun and spoiled are two different things.”

“That’s what Hannah always says.”

“Hannah’s pretty wise.”

“She’s pretty, too,” he says, surprising me.

Chuckling, I nudge his shoe with mine. “You’re too young to be into girls.”

Tulsa adds, “Anyway, she’s your cousin, Alfie. That means off-limits.”

Alfie’s quick to reply, “For me, but for Jet she’s on-limits.”

After the shock wears off that he actually just said that, I ruffle his hair. “Hey,” I start, “what do you know about on-limits?”

“I’m six, not dumb. I know all about the birds and the bees. Grandma has HBO.”

Good grief, this kid. He’s going to keep me on my toes. Goodbye single days. Hello parenting. “Remind me to cancel Cinemax, Rivers.”

Rivers laughs as I slide into the back after Alfie, as he takes the passenger seat. My legs are cramped back here, and I’m tempted to kick my little brother out of the prime real estate up front, but this transition time with Alfie is important. So I stay after I give a hard shove with my knee into the back of the seat. “A little legroom would be nice.”

“Welcome to my world, bro.”

This is like living in an alternate universe. I’m usually the one in charge, but things have changed dramatically over the last week. I’ll be in charge, but it’s not just my brothers and me anymore. Life won’t be all fun and games, playing music late into the night, or going home with a chick after a gig when the right opportunities come around.

Surprisingly, I’m not bothered by the change. Alfie comes first.