Chapter11
1093 Words
By the time the boys had settled in, the energy from the day had finally begun to fade.
Christian had made it through half of a sandwich before stretching out across the couch with his championship trophy tucked against his side like someone might come take it from him. Luke had disappeared into his room with his headphones, needing the quiet after spending most of the day surrounded by crowds, whistles, cheering, and everything else that came with a ballpark.
For the first time since Jackson had walked through the door, the house was quiet.
Emma stood at the kitchen counter rinsing out a cup when she realized Jackson was still there.
Normally, once the boys were home and settled, he left.
Tonight, he leaned against the other side of the counter, looking toward the living room where Christian was already beginning to drift off.
“They’re doing good here,” he said.
Emma stopped what she was doing.
It wasn’t the words themselves that caught her off guard.
It was hearing them from him.
She turned slightly. “They are.”
Jackson nodded, his eyes still on Christian.
“I didn’t think they would.”
Emma almost smiled. “I know.”
That earned the smallest laugh from him.
“Was I that obvious?”
“You weren’t exactly subtle.”
“Fair.”
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
There had been a time when silence between them had been comfortable. Before every quiet moment became filled with something unsaid. Before conversations turned into arguments because neither of them knew how to say what they actually meant.
Jackson rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“Luke did really good today.”
Emma’s expression softened. “He did.”
“I thought he was done after the second inning.”
“So did I.”
“He almost was.”
Emma nodded. “Sometimes he just needs a few minutes away from everything.”
“I know.” Jackson paused. “I mean... I’m starting to understand that better.”
Emma looked at him then.
There was no defensiveness in his voice. No need to prove that he already knew everything about his son.
Just honesty.
“He wanted to stay with you,” she said.
Jackson’s eyes lifted to hers.
“That was a big part of it.”
Something shifted in his expression.
“He did?”
Emma nodded. “Luke could have asked to come home. You know he would have if it got to be too much. But he wanted to stay.”
Jackson glanced down at the counter.
“And Blake helped.”
“Definitely.”
A faint smile appeared on Jackson’s face.
“I didn’t even realize they were talking at first. I thought they were just sitting there.”
Emma laughed softly. “Sometimes that is talking for Luke.”
“I figured that out eventually.”
“And you didn’t push him.”
Jackson looked almost confused by the comment.
Emma shrugged. “You gave him space. You let him walk away when he needed to. You didn’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I’m his dad.”
“I know.”
There was something about the way she said it that made him look at her again.
Not accusatory.
Not angry.
Just simple.
Jackson exhaled slowly.
“I haven’t always gotten it right.”
Emma looked back down at the cup in her hands.
“Neither have I.”
“You usually get it more right than I do.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “Careful. I might write that down.”
Jackson smiled.
A real smile.
And for a second, Emma saw him the way she used to.
Not as the man she had fought with.
Not as the husband who had disappointed her.
Just Jackson.
The person she once stayed up too late talking to. The person who knew how she took her coffee and which movies she pretended not to like but always watched anyway. The person who had once been her best friend before they somehow became two people constantly keeping score.
Jackson looked toward the hallway.
“Christian was something else today.”
Emma smiled. “He hasn’t stopped talking about that RBI.”
“He also conveniently skipped over the strikeout.”
“Oh, no. He told me.”
Jackson laughed. “Did he tell you the umpire was apparently blind?”
“He said it was outside.”
“It was right down the middle.”
“That sounds like something a father would say.”
“That sounds like something someone with functioning eyesight would say.”
Emma laughed before she could stop herself.
Jackson did too.
And suddenly the kitchen didn’t feel quite so heavy.
No arguing.
No accusations.
No discussion about schedules or money or who had done what wrong.
Just two parents talking about their kids.
Two people who had once known how to enjoy each other.
Emma leaned against the counter.
“I miss this.”
The words slipped out before she had time to decide whether she should say them.
Jackson’s smile faded slightly, but not in a bad way.
“This?”
“Being able to talk to you without feeling like we’re about to fight.”
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
Emma studied him for a moment.
“I don’t want us to hate each other, Jackson.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“I know.” She paused. “But sometimes we act like we do.”
Jackson looked down.
“That’s probably easier.”
“Than what?”
He was quiet long enough that Emma thought he might not answer.
“Admitting we still care what the other person thinks.”
Emma’s chest tightened.
There it was.
Not a declaration.
Not an attempt to fix anything.
Just the truth.
She looked away first.
“I’d like us to be friends again someday.”
Jackson nodded slowly.
“I’d like that too.”
Emma smiled faintly.
“Friends might be ambitious.”
“Acquaintances who don’t argue in parking lots?”
She laughed. “That seems more realistic.”
“We can work our way up.”
For once, the idea of working toward something with Jackson didn’t terrify her.
It didn’t mean they were getting back together.
It didn’t erase everything that had happened between them.
It simply meant maybe they could find their way back to kindness.
And for tonight, that felt like enough.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD