All Who Dream (Letting Go) (25 page)

“You nervous about Cody leaving tomorrow?”

The
question hit my gut so hard I felt nauseous. “That’s an understatement. I’m
trying not to think about it.”

“And
how’s that working out?”

I lifted
my head then. “What are you, Dr. Phil?”

He
laughed, the right corner of his mouth lifting into a half grin.

“You look
worn out.”

“Wow,
thanks Jackson. Why don’t you just tell me I suck as a human being too? You’re on
quite a roll tonight.”

He
laughed heartily, as I pinched my lips together to keep from joining in.

“Five nice things.”

“What?”
he asked, trying to get his breathing under
control.

“Don’t
you know that for
every
 
mean
comment you make, you’re supposed to offer five nice ones?”
I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I don’t
do empty compliments, remember?”

“Well
I
don’t do rude.”

“Seems we’re at an impasse.”

I pushed
his shoulder as he snatched my hand playfully.
“Seems so.”

If we
weren’t in the middle of an arcade, I’d kiss him right there. The fire that
burned through my skin and into my bones from his touch was more than just a
little intense. He must have felt the same, because he let go a second later.

“Hey, Jackson!”
Charlie said
,
walking up to the table with
Pippy
, who was balancing
several drink cups on a tray.

“Hey—how
did you enjoy your time in the city today?” Jackson asked her, leaving me to
regain composure.

“Oh we
had the best day—I’ve actually been here several times on tour with the
University, but it was Briggs’ first time,” she said, sitting down and taking a
sip of her iced tea.

“I’m
glad. It’s not for everyone,” Jackson said, taking a glass of Coke off the tray
and handing it to me.

“Oh I
just love big cities—I don’t think my husband would go for it, but I have
always loved the city life,” Charlie crooned. Her hands animated each word she
spoke.

Jackson
smiled in response as
Pippy
handed me my debit card.
I took it quickly and placed it back in my purse as he swiveled his head to
stare at me.

“Tell me
you didn’t do what I think you did.”

“Okay. I
didn’t do what you think I did.”

He shook
his head.
“After dinner.
You and me.
Air hockey.
Winner pays.”

“It’s
already done Jackson.”

“Nothing
is done that can’t be undone.”

The
video-game crew: Briggs, Peter and Cody must have smelled the food because they
arrived back at our table about a minute before the food did.

“Tell me
about Soccer Camp, Champ…you excited?” Jackson asked Cody just as he was
stuffing his face with a cheeseburger.

Cody
looked at me and finished chewing before he responded. Good boy.

“It’s way
awesome. Our coach—Mr. Denny—is really funny. He wears a different hat every
day of practice, and if everyone shows up on time and doesn’t forget anything
he brings us a Slurpee the next day.”

“Wow, he
does sound pretty awesome,” Jackson said.

“Yeah, he
is.” Cody nodded enthusiastically.

“What’s
been your favorite part about visiting New York, Cody?”
Pippy
asked.

Cody
tapped his chin like an old man, thinking.
“Making new
friends.”

The
collective
“aww”
that made its way
around the table in response to his answer melted my heart. It was moments like
this that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. Though he’d never known
the love of a father, there was no end to the people who loved and cared for
him. My heart ached with pride as I watched him finish his dinner.

As the
first one to finish his meal, Cody stood up and smiled. “Who wants to challenge
me to a game of Space Invaders?”

“I’ll
take that challenge, short stack,” Jackson said, faster than I could blink.

“Cool!”

A second
later, he was out of his seat and walking into the masses with Cody. Briggs
smiled at me and shook his head before taking another bite out of his
Philly-cheese steak.

“What?” I
mouthed while kicking him under the table.

“Ouch…really,
Ang
?
You had to kick
me? We’re not twelve anymore.”

“Some of
us still are, apparently.”

He rolled
his eyes and then lowering his voice. “He cares about you.”

My
stomach knotted at his words. I was afraid to acknowledge just how much I
wanted them to be true. I looked around the table. Thankfully
Pippy
and Charlie were engaged in
baby talk,
and Peter had just stood up from the table to go join
our troop in the battle against aliens.

“I care
about him, too.”

“I can
see that.” He shook his head again, putting his hamburger down on his plate.
“You were right—what you said last night. Your story isn’t finished yet. I
never meant to imply that what you’ve been through wasn’t redeemable. I just
can’t…I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I know,
Briggs.”

“You’re
different though—Charlie and I have both noticed it.”

“How so?”

He took a
deep breath and put his elbows on the table. “It’s like the difference between
watching a game and playing in it. You’ve been sitting on the sidelines for
years, watching everyone else have a turn…and now, it’s like you’ve finally
stepped out onto the field.”

My
brother wasn’t the wise guru-type, but every once in a while he struck gold. I
knew
exactly
what he was saying.
Unexpectedly, my eyes filled with tears.

For two hours we played every game that the giant arcade
had to offer—and then some. I watched as Jackson and Briggs hooted and hollered
over Cody as he made his way through each new challenge. I was hoping Jackson
had forgotten about his little air hockey bet, but of course, that was only
wishful thinking.

“It’s
your turn.” He hooked my arm in his and practically dragged me to the air
hockey table.

“Jackson,
I am totally capable of splurging every once and a while. I want to pay for tonight—honestly.”

“And you
can—if you win.”

“You are
insufferable.”

“Thanks,”
he said, plunking the flat disk on top of the table. “You know how to play,
right?”

I
scrunched up my nose, scrutinizing him. “Of course I do.”

He flashed
a wicked grin, and I nearly had to brace myself against its
affect
on my knees.

In the
first two rounds I saw the competitive nature that lurked not-so-far beneath
the surface in one, Mr. Jackson Ross. I quickly learned that defense was my
only strategy.
Scoring proved very difficult, but blocking?
I could block. By the fourth game, I was growing tired. My sad little bicep was
screaming at me to surrender, but I would never do it—not over this particular
wager.

“How’s
your arm doing, Flores?”

“Didn’t
your mother ever tell you that bullying isn’t the way to win a lady’s heart?”

He
laughed as he pitched his paddle forward, scoring before I could react.

“The
stakes have already been set, sweetheart. I’m not playing for your heart—I’m
playing for your dinner.”

“Ha—funny.
Stop talking; you’re breaking my concentration on purpose.”

He
laughed again.

Amazingly,
I blocked his next two shots and scored one of my own! I twirled around in a
circle, suddenly feeling very good about my concentration improvement.

Jackson
laughed again. I scored again.

“Now
you
need to stop it,” he said.

“Stop
what?”

“If I
don’t get to bully you, you don’t get to dance around.”

I smiled,
scoring another point.

“And the
tides have turned,” I said, belting out my best version of an evil-villain
laugh.

Jackson
was not amused. He crouched down as if he were playing in the air-hockey
Olympics. I quickly lost all confidence, and it turned out that I had a reason
to be scared. When Jackson was motivated, there was virtually nothing that
could stop him. He won.
Fair and square.

Because I
had agreed to it…I wouldn’t be a poor sport. In my opinion, there was nothing
uglier than that. If I didn’t allow Cody to throw tantrums over losing a soccer
game, then I certainly couldn’t allow myself to throw one either—no matter how
much I wanted to pout.

“Well-played,
Mr. Ross,” I said, sticking out my hand to shake his as he laughed.

 
“You’re a well-mannered loser, Miss Flores.”

I put my
hand on my hip. “You really need help in the compliment department,
Jackson—regardless of what you believe about them. It’s really quite sad.”

I laughed
as I met up with Cody at the ticket counter. Combined, he had enough to get a
rubber snake and a book of temporary tattoos.

“Cool,
huh, mom? I got all this for free.”

“Yep, way cool.”
I neglected to mention all the money that
was spent to play the games that got him the
free
stuff.

I
scratched his head as we rounded up the troops to head out. Walking out to the
curb, the summer air closed around us, sticky and hot. Peter and
Pippy
left together after hugging Cody goodbye and
promising to stay in touch. A lump formed in my throat. Jackson was last.

As the
cab pulled up, Jackson bent down to see eye to eye with my son.

Briggs
pulled Charlie to the car, giving us a moment alone.

“You’re a
good kid, short stack.”

“Thanks,”
Cody said, his mouth pinched in a half-smile.

“I don’t
want you to worry about your mom while you’re away. I promise I’ll watch out
for her until you’re together again, alright?”

Cody
nodded, glancing at me and then back at Jackson.

“Just
make sure she keeps her necklace on.”

Jackson
looked at me before responding.
“The one with the angel
wings?”

“Yep.
It’s her guardian angel. She needs to keep it on,”
Cody said.

My breath
caught, the lump in my throat growing larger as I watched Jackson regard him.

“Okay, I
will. I promise. Have a great time at soccer camp.”

“Okay.”
Cody rushed Jackson, embracing him in a way that nearly pushed him off-balance.
“Do you think you’ll visit us sometime—in Texas? Maybe come to one of my
games?”

Jackson swallowed.
“You’ll be my first stop if I do.”

Cody
smiled. “Bye, Jackson.”

“Bye,
kiddo.”

I looked
at Jackson as Cody climbed into the back seat. His usual unreadable expression was
replaced by something new—yet unidentifiable.

“Walt
will be there at six to take them to the airport.”

“Okay.”

He took a
deep breath. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Angie.”

He kissed
my cheek before stepping into a cab of his own.

I
realized what I’d seen in his eyes as we drove back to the T. Ross building. In
just two
week’s time
we’d be doing this again—only
we’d be saying goodbye to each other.

Jackson’s
face had reflected the answer.

He didn’t
know what would happen after that.

And
neither did
I
.

As Cody got dressed for bed, I noticed a
picture on his iPad…something he’d drawn recently.

“What’s this, Code?”

He glanced at me over this shoulder and
shrugged when I picked up the device.

“It’s just a picture mom.”

My vision blurred immediately as I realized
what I was looking at. I slumped onto his bed. It was not
just
a picture.

“Cody,” I breathed.

He stood and came toward the bed. “It’s a
family.”

I could clearly identify Cody and myself—he’d
been drawing us for half a decade—but the man next to me?

Cody pointed to the far corner, ignoring the
question in my head.
“And that…that’s my first dad.”

The man in a prison-like box off to the side
had an X over his face. My stomach churned.

“But this over here…” Cody tapped the man
next to me now, along with the other two figures. “This is our New York Family.
That’s Jackson, and
Pippy
and Caleb.”

 
I
pulled him into a tight hug and thanked God for such a beautiful child.

It was just after midnight when I finally finished packing Cody’s
suitcase and carry-on bag. He’d long since been asleep. My nerves had taken on
an entity of their own—threatening to consume me with worry over his time
without me.

Taking yet another deep,
calming breath, I dragged myself into my bedroom and picked up my phone to set
an alarm for our early morning wake-up. I put my hand to my mouth as soon as
the screen lit. A message was waiting for me.

An email
from Jackson.

I couldn’t fall asleep in good conscience knowing that I was still in
your debt. Since I schooled you in air hockey—to which you so graciously
accepted your fate as the loser—it’s only fair that I pay you back in kind.

So Angela Flores…here are your “Five Nice
Things”:

1. Before I met you, I would
   have argued that
   humble
   and
   strong
   could never be
   synonymous. I would have been wrong.
   
2. Kindness is part of your
   genetic code—of this I’m nearly certain.
   
3. If the way you love your son
   was “standard issue” for parents everywhere, therapists around the world
   would be out of a job.
   
4. Your words never fail to
   match the goodness that’s in your heart—you’re gracious to a fault. (It’s
   quite annoying actually.)
   
5. Every minute that I’m not
   with you, I feel as though I’m missing out on one of God’s best kept
   secrets, one I’ve been privy to for reasons of which I am still unsure.