I decided to wait up for Jack. It was after both the big McCallister family blowup and the McCallister sibling reunion of sorts. Although I felt bad for Jack and the way his father had treated him, I was overjoyed at the thought of him at least having some family back in his daily life.

His brother and sister and their families seemed to genuinely love and miss Jack. My heart warmed at the sight of them hugging him goodbye. Even his older brother, Blake, gave him a quick hug and a slap on the back while he said something to him, too quiet for me to make out. But whatever it was, it made Jack smile like crazy.

Jack left to go back to the restaurant after everyone took off, and now it was almost midnight. I hoped he’d get home soon, but no matter what time he got in, I’d be up. It had been quite the day, and I wanted to check on him and make sure he was all right after the shock of the day’s events.

A few minutes later, I heard a light tapping on the door. That was odd. Maybe Jack forgot his key? I got up and padded into the living room. The small lamp was already on. I always turned it on for him when he was out late. The idea of him walking into a dark apartment always tore at my heart a little.

Carefully, I peered through the peephole to make sure it was him, but it wasn’t. It was Jack’s mom. What the heck? Confused, I slowly opened the door and said, “Hi, Elaine. Is everything okay?” When I looked into her eyes, I realized how stupid of a question that had been. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was all spotty from crying. I knew that look well.

“I left him,” she said, holding up a small bag in front of her. A moment passed before I completely understood what she meant.

“You left your husband?” I asked as my jaw dropped to the floor. She shrugged and burst into tears. “Oh dear, you poor thing. Come in, we’ll fix you up,” I said with no idea what I actually planned on doing.

“Thanks, H-h-h-harper. I’m so sorry for how my husband acted. I don’t know why he does that to Jacky,” she said as I guided her over to the couch.

“Can I get you something? Tea or hot cocoa?” Or a cab ride to your other children’s houses?

“I’d like my family back together again, if you can manage to do that?” she asked while shaking her head, tears flooding down her face.

“Afraid I’m not the one for that job. Would you like me to call Jack?”

“He’s not here?” she asked with a worried expression on her face. “Iris gave me this address and said he would be here. I tried to talk to her, but she said she wasn’t speaking to me until this mess with Jack was figured out, and then she hung up.” Hmm, Iris was a good person to have on your side, but I’d hate to go up against her. “You probably think I’m a bad mother. I don’t even have my son’s address.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad mother. Don’t say that. And this is my place, not Jack’s. Let me call him, and he’ll come home right away,” I suggested, but she just shook her head and held on to my arm. “He’s working at the restaurant, but I’m sure he’s probably on his way.” Unless it was a busy night, or someone didn’t come in, or any other various acts of God occurred in which case he’d have to stay late and pick up the pieces.

“He works hard, doesn’t he? Even as a kid, he was such a serious boy. So focused on whatever he was trying to do,” she said, wiping her eyes with a balled up tissue. I ran to the kitchen to grab the tissues and pulled a new one out of the box for her.

“Jack’s a very hard worker. He’s opening a second restaurant soon. Did you know that?” I asked and took a good guess she didn’t know.

“Two restaurants? No, he never said a word,” she said and looked off to the side in careful contemplation. “He and his father always butted heads. Almost from the moment he entered the world. If John would stop and think for a minute, he’d realize how much he and Jack actually have in common. But instead, he was so disappointed when Jack quit law school to go to culinary school, he practically disowned him.”

There was so much I wanted to say, but it really wasn’t my place. Part of me wanted to shake her and ask her why in the world she wasted the best years of her life on some immature bastard who was mean to their kids. But I didn’t. All I could do was listen. There was no good that could come out of me placing blame on anyone.

“Jack was always in the kitchen, and he was really good, not just making a mess or wanting to eat what I made or what the cook prepared. He was genuinely interested in the entire process, from beginning to end. You could tell he was born to cook. Anyone with eyes could see that,” she said, picking pretend lint off her pants. “But John fought it.” She shook her head vehemently. “No son of his was going to be some pansy-ass, two-bit cook in a dive somewhere. God, the man has no foresight at all,” she said and bowed her head, shoulders slumped.

Again, I wanted to ask why she didn’t stick up for her youngest child, but I controlled myself. I’d lived with my own bully for years. If I asked around, I’m sure a lot of people were curious about why I stayed with Gabe, too.

“Jack cooked with you as a child?” I asked, imagining a young Jack standing on a chair at the counter with his mom. My heart almost exploded at the thought.

“All the time.” She rubbed her hands on her thighs. “He was such a good boy. And he was fascinated with his sister’s Easy-Bake Oven. Oh, how Iris would scold him for using it, but he didn’t care. Any chance he got, he took that thing out and used it.” She giggled, and I did, too. Envisioning Iris giving Jack heck for using her play oven was hilarious.

“Let me make some hot cocoa. Jack should be back soon,” I said and got up. She left her husband of how many years? And at sixty years old? My hands were happy to have something to do while I thought about the implications of what she did. First thing that popped into my mind was John was going to be pissed off. I wasn’t sure if he was the violent type, but this might be enough to push him to the breaking point. The man just lost his entire family in one day.

As I was reaching up precariously for the marshmallows—why did I have them up so high? I heard the key in the lock and breathed a sigh of relief that Jack was home. The door swung open, and he said, “You know the rules, gorgeous. No clothes after midnight, and it’s exactly...” In dramatic fashion, he checked his watch. “Ten minutes after twelve.” He stood there looking extremely hot with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder like he was about to walk down a runway somewhere.

My mouth hung open, and my brain rendered me powerless. Speech? What was that? The man just told me to get naked in front of his mom. “Jack,” I said breathlessly.

He ignored me and turned to hang up his jacket. “While you’re in the kitchen, why don’t you get out the extra whipped cream I made and bring it with you?”

The marshmallows jumped out of my hands and landed on the floor. “Jack!” I yelled, finally able to make a noise. “Your mom is here,” I said in the calmest voice I could find. His face went blank and he spun around to see his mother on the couch.

“Uh, Ma? What’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?” Mr. Whipped Cream said and strode toward the couch to sit beside her.

“Oh, Jack, I’ve been a terrible mother,” she said and burst into tears again. I got out another cup and picked up the escapee marshmallows. This was going to be a long night.