out.”
“Throw them out?” I ask. “Why would he want you to throw them out?”
Emma sighs unhappily. “He has his reasons, children. Just trust in that.”
I have to wonder what else he threw out. Maybe she didn’t just write us out of her life. What if she did write to us? Sent us things and Daddy just never gave them to us. I hate the spark of hope that springs to life. I do my best to stomp it out, but it lingers like a foul taste in my mouth.
Jason takes the box from her and pulls out a heavy, black leather bound book that has leather ties to close it. His name is etched onto the cover. It’s not a journal. I mean, the thing is bigger than any book I’ve ever seen. Jason reaches in and plucks out an identical one that has my name on it.
“What are they?” I take mine and open it. Blank white pages stare back at me.
“Journals, maybe?” Emma shrugs. “Alesha sent them a few years back.”
“Wait. What?” Jason’s eyes zero in on Emma, narrowing. “She sent this for our birthdays, but she couldn’t bother to call and say hello?”
Emma turns around and busies herself getting out bowls for cereal. “Jase, at least she cared enough to send you a gift.” Is that guilt I hear in her voice?
“One gift out of how many missed birthdays?” The contempt in his voice speaks volumes. You don’t abandon your kids and expect them to be all happy and feel special you remembered one birthday. It’s despicable. That, I agree with, but what if we’re wrong about her?
“I’m sorry, sweethearts.” Emma’s shoulders slump, and Jason immediately goes over and gives her a hug.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “You are a great mother, Emma. We couldn’t have asked for better.”
She gives him a lopsided smile and kisses his cheek. “I love you too, baby boy.”
I look wistfully at them before staring at the book in front of me. Jason and Emma are close. She was with him every day. I love Emma, and I know she loves me, but I will never have the same relationship with her Jason does. He grew up here with her and Dad. I didn’t. She did the best she could do for me, but we’ll never have what she shares with my brother. Emma is his mother, but she’s my step-mother.
And maybe that’s why I can’t crush that tiny seed of hope inside. I want what Jason and Emma have. I had that with my mother before she left. I’m jealous of their relationship. It’s not Jason or Emma’s fault. It just is what it is and I need to stop trying to make my mother into someone redeemable just because I want that relationship back.
“Are you two hungry?” I looked up at Emma’s question, watching her grab cereal out of a cabinet.
“No, we ate at the diner this morning.”
“More like Jason ate my food instead of ordering his own.”
“That sounds like our boy, here.” Emma pats his shoulder. “Do you want me to make you something, Alex?”
“No, I’m good.” My fingers stroke the soft leather of the book. “Emma, why do you think Dad didn’t tell us we lived here before? Do you know how old we were?”
I can’t shake this weird feeling I have that it’s important we know more about our time here.
“I’m not sure, sweetie.” She frowns, sipping on her coffee. “I do know your parents met in Boston where they both attended college. They moved here after graduation, and the two of you were born here. If I remember correctly, John said they moved to Raleigh when you were four, Jason. That’s really all he told me.”
Maybe Dad had a “back to your roots” moment when he suggested coming to Jacob’s Fork. It’s strange that he wouldn’t have told us we lived here, though. He can’t have expected we wouldn’t find out. I have this hinky feeling I can’t shake. Dad and I are gonna have a long talk about that and why he didn’t want us to have our mother’s gifts. I think the two are related.
“Are you wearing that when we go shopping?” Emma eyeballs Jason’s clothes.
“I look