Jo
It is most definitely a sweatpants and T-shirt day, and the only reason I talk myself into the effort of putting on a bra is Jamie’s shirt from last night. Untethered breasts might not be a turn-on, but I don’t really want to distract him or stress him out more than he already is.
God, he’s got Mom’s phone number. Mom sent Amanda on a mission to retrieve signs of life. Like Stanley Trevor Davis is worth slitting my wrists over.
To be fair, I did Google when Walmart opened, but by 6 a.m. I didn’t feel like dragging my sorry, snotty ass out into the world. If I hadn’t gone up onstage with Ricky last night, I might’ve talked myself around to it, but now I’ve put my face out there. Imagine someone laughing over how I was up for a little hair of the dog when really I’m just trying to find something to make me pass out before I puke.
Jamie’s got the blinds raised in the living room when I come back out, but the way he looks at me tells me he’s not sure if he overstepped. Natural light’s supposed to help depression, though, so I shrug a little and he gestures to the kitchen counter. “It should be here any minute, but I wasn’t sure if that was fast enough.”
There’s a fresh mug of coffee collecting the last drops from my pour-over. “Thanks.” I grab the milk out of the fridge and decide that this is probably a couch conversation. Before I can get there, though, there’s a knock on my door, and I unconsciously take a step back so I won’t be seen when it opens. I’m in a bra, but otherwise I’m a mess.
Jamie answers and exchanges a few words, because of course he knows the DoorDash driver, and pauses until I nod at the coffee table. At least there are coasters, and our breakfast burritos come in wrappers.
Shoot, maybe we need plates.
“It’s fine,” Jamie says quietly, gesturing for me to sit. I feel wired, strung out from lack of sleep and punch-drunk from sobbing, and he just seems so calm.
He was worried enough to come down here, though. I sit, and sip my coffee, and start with, “Did your mom tell you?”
Jamie nods as he joins me, but the couch is long enough that there’s an empty cushion between us. He turns more to face me, though, tucking one leg under as he reaches for his coffee. “Right when I came downstairs. She must’ve seen the notification when she got up.”
“Did you read about it?” It’s not a delay. I haven’t checked the news recently.
He nods again.
I take a slow breath and decide to ask before taking a sip. “Is he dead?”
This time he shakes his head. “Critical condition.”
So. Not yet. I take a sip, then a deep breath, and try to get more comfortable. Usually the couch is amazing, but of course I’m not in any condition to relax right now. “I have to … it’s not going to make much sense until it does, okay?”
Jamie nods again, but he’s not leaning forward to urge it out of me. I’m not even sure he’s tense right now, no matter how quickly he came down here. He can see me, for one, so he knows exactly what condition I’m in. It’s not good, but it’s not code red. If I refused to go code red for Jake and Tess, I’m sure as hell not going code red for Stanley Trevor Davis.
Okay and maybe this part is a delay, but I open my burrito and pick up half of it. I don’t really know where to start. “You didn’t ask why I said I was maybe seven.”
He tilts his head, which isn’t actually a nod. “I did think it was weird.”
“I didn’t have a birth certificate.” I shrug like this is a weight I can easily dislodge. “I woke up one morning and my mom was dead. The police showed up and I couldn’t answer like any of their questions. My mom and the people she hung out with used nicknames, and it wasn’t like I’d gone to school or anything.”
“Are …?” He cuts himself off, then asks it when I wait: “Are you Jo, just J-O, because it’s all you could spell?”
Am I actually smiling at this? “You forgot the Ann. I could do both.”
“And … your last name?” This hesitation is shorter.
I shake my head. “Seriously had no idea. Nobody I knew used two names, so even if they used their last name, it was just their name. My mom wasn’t fingerprinted, so I was in this holding pattern while they tried to match her up with a missing person, but …”
“Hey.” Jamie moves his burrito and cup closer to me and closes the distance between us, gesturing for me to turn and sit a bit more normally so he can put his arm around me. It means I still have both hands free, in case I convince myself that eating will make me feel better. It’s comforting, especially coming from someone who doesn’t usually do physical affection.
Okay. “I was placed with my parents, and everybody thought it was going to be this short-term thing, because of how young they were and how … well, they totally called me feral. The police.”
He nods once, just this warm presence. And maybe there’s something else to this, because I don’t have to look him in the eye.
“They had to teach me to use a fork, and I didn’t know what school was, and I’d never slept in a bed, and I just …” I close my eyes. “My backpack?”
“Yeah?” His voice is soft, and I don’t want to think intimate, but it’s there.
“Dad’s idea.” I clear my throat. “He read about these kids in the holocaust who couldn’t sleep unless they had some bread, because it meant they knew where their next meal was coming from. He bought me a backpack and put a spare outfit in it because we were always being run out of places, or thrown out of them, and I didn’t want to sleep in pajamas with bare feet because then I’d have nothing. And it … God, Tess showing up at my house and the two of them telling me it was over, you know? Just kind of started that all back up again.”
Jamie takes a slow breath, but he doesn’t say anything this time.
“Anyway, Mom and Dad kept me, and they were super patient with everything. They got me a tutor first, then eased me into school, and then all of a sudden my case worker says hey, good news, we found Jo’s grandparents!”
I can feel him wince.
“Oh, it gets better,” I reassure him. “They’d kicked my mom out for getting pregnant, so that’s how everyone finally estimated my age, but they’d disowned her, so they signed off on me right away. I don’t know if they had to do a blood test or something to prove they could sign off on me, but …” I shrug, but not to dislodge his arm. “That left my parents open to actually adopt me.” And this time I pull away just enough to look at Jamie.
He shakes his head a little. “I don’t want to keep interrupting your story with mine.”
“What, because I’m obviously so eager to tell it?” I roll my eyes.
“So maybe you just need to get it out,” he corrects gently.
Fine. I settle back in and tuck my feet up on the couch. “This guy shows up to the hearing, and he’s got the same name as the boyfriend my mom had when she was kicked out. He tries to make a case for me, you know? That’s my kid, I’m working to clean up my act. The judge orders a DNA test and they need time to figure out if it’s true, you know? If the guy who left me next to my dead mother is actually on track enough to take me back.”
Jamie nods to let me know he’s keeping up.
I take a deep breath and hold it a moment. “He never did the DNA test and he never came back, but about a year after my adoption went through, he murdered Sophia Brunet.”
Chapter Twenty-Four – coming October 24
