January 2006
Dust billowed up in Jared’s face. He fanned it away. Sweat soaked the back of his shirt. The collar stuck like glue to the back of his neck.
It wasn’t even all that hot out, the temperature mild in the middle of January. But it felt muggy in the confines of the closed-up garage.
Jared had turned it into a makeshift shop.
He leaned in close and blew away the sawdust that coated his handiwork. Another puff of dust flew, adding to the haze hanging in the thick air.
A hand squeezed his shoulder. Jared jumped. He jerked his head around.
“Dad,” he gasped over the surprise.
He’d been so absorbed in his work he hadn’t noticed his father creep up behind him.
His dad grinned with casual amusement. “You’re getting jumpy in your old age, Jared.” His smile widened with the tease. “You’d think I just caught you sneaking out your window in the middle of the night.”
Of course on any given night, his dad probably wouldn’t have been that far from the truth.
Jared smirked and rolled his eyes. “Nah… just thought you were Mom there for a second.”
Laughter rolled from his father, his eyes gleaming. “And you’d better watch out for her, too. She was pestering me for answers last night. She’s dying to know what you’ve been up to out here.”
Jared smoothed his hand over the design he’d created just for her, across the delicate carvings that represented everything his mother meant to him.
Jared hadn’t been the best kid lately. He knew it. Shame always hit him when his mom looked at him with a fading trace of disappointment. She knew it, too.
She’d been talking to him a lot lately. Nagging him, really. Always telling him to make good choices. To be careful. Cautioning him against getting into situations so deep he wouldn’t be able to climb out of them.
“There are some things you just can’t take back, Jared,” she’d warned him on more than one occasion, though she always said it with complete understanding. Like she knew and accepted he wasn’t perfect.
Under his breath, Jared scoffed.
Far from it.
Jared knew he’d been treading dangerous water. All the drinking. Getting high. The girls.
He’d been messing around a lot. Two weeks ago he’d finally just taken it, had sex because he really just wanted to experience it. He didn’t even like the girl. She was annoying and whiny.
For the better part of the week after, he’d felt guilty, because his mom had always told him not to waste himself that way. To make it matter.
Funny that guilt didn’t even cross his mind when he’d hooked up with another girl he’d never even seen before this last weekend.
It was like once he started, he couldn’t stop. But honestly? He didn’t want to. Who knew fucking could feel so good? Sure as hell felt better than his hand. After he had a taste, he had no desire to go back.
“Your mom’s going to love it, Jared,” his dad mused from behind him, breaking into his thoughts. “I’m real proud of you, son. That’s some talent you have there. Not many people can pull off something like this. That’s art.”
Pride heated Jared’s cheeks, and his chest felt a little too full. “Thanks, Dad.”
His dad rumpled his hair, like he used to do when Jared was just a boy. If Christopher would have seen it, he’d have given him shit for days. But Jared didn’t care. His dad was cool – good to him and his sister and most of all to his mom.
His dad’s expression shifted. His eyes narrowed, intense and serious. “I mean it. You are a good kid, Jared. Don’t know many boys getting ready to turn sixteen who’d spend all their afternoons slaving away in a hot garage making a birthday present for their mom.”
A satisfied smile forced its way to Jared’s mouth, mingled with the disagreement at his dad’s assertion. His mom’s birthday was two weeks after his. Just three weeks from now. With all the garbage he’d been getting himself into lately, he wanted to make sure she knew she was far more important than all of that. He wanted her to see the way he saw her.
He was almost finished. All he needed to do was perfect the pattern, deepen the lines, shave to shadow, then stain the wood the dark color his dad had gone with him to pick out.
Jared took his chisel. His lips pressed into a thin line as he focused hard. The blade cut into the wood, carving a defined curve into the intricate floral pattern that graced the top of the jewelry box he’d crafted entirely of his own hands. Each piece had been cut to fit perfectly to build the box. Then he’d set to work to etch the same beauty he found in his mother into the soft wood, her stamp set forever in the elaborate design.
An intricate pattern of petals and leaves, the stems twisted and twined to curl across the top to create a snarled bouquet. A single rose was pronounced in the middle.
The symbol of the greatest beauty.
On the bottom was her inscription.
Helene Rose ~ beauty and light.