I turned away, embarrassed that my outburst wasn’t doing anyone any favors. The warmth of Jacob’s touch spread from my arm all over my body. I was supposed to be comforting him, but he was comforting me.
He squeezed and released, his fingertips just barely kissing my skin. “I was just as surprised when Cole dropped the bomb. Kirkman made up some sort of excuse and left me alone with him. Before I could ask for proof, he whipped out a manila folder. Inside was a birth certificate with my mother’s signature.” Jacob withdrew, slumping back against the chair. “He went on about his life but I zoned out, completely locked on the birth certificate. I was entranced by my mother’s signature. I traced every curve, wondering what was going through her mind. I raced through memories, images, trying to figure out if I noticed weight gain or any strange cravings.
But how would I? Boarding school was my home. I only came home for Christmas break and that Christmas I was with my grandparents. Once I started questioning if it was all some conspiracy, I just stopped. I told him I needed to do my own investigation and I’d contact him once I verified his story. I went to my mother, who categorically denied the whole thing until my investigator proved Cole was who he said he was.”
I was literally just at that witch’s house and I wanted a do-over. Instead of finishing my water, I should have thrown it, and the fancy cooler, at her head. The act of keeping Cole a secret was bad enough, but to prolong the inevitable and lie to Jacob’s face? That was just cruel, even for Alicia.
I tried to grasp at the positive. Jacob had a brother. This was an opportunity. I still had so many questions. “What was he like?”
“He seemed friendly.” Jacob massaged his neck, rolling his head from side to side. “Polite, other than dropping the bomb during my business meeting. When I told him it wasn't the time nor place, he backed off immediately. He said he'd wait at the cafe across the street if I wanted to talk. Since Kirkman was no help at all and excused himself, I had no reason to not take the kid up on his offer.”
“Kid?” He’d been tossing that word around. “How old is he?”
“Twenty-four.”
I waited for more. Anything—but Jacob was staring up at the sky like figuring out the cosmos was preferable to talking about any of this. I was balancing on a tightrope. Cautious. Mindful of every movement. The wrong move, the wrong question, could send me spiraling. So I chose to roll back onto the chair and give Jacob some time to breathe and process. Once I stopped waiting for him to tell me every last detail, he opened up.
“I met him at the cafe. Before I could even get the word 'money' out he made it clear that he didn't want a dime. He pulled out the folder again and pulled out that damn certificate-”
Jacob stopped and I turned to him. I saw the way he clenched and unclenched his fists. His relationship with his mother had always been a difficult one. Alicia couldn't take out her frustration about her husband's infidelity on its rightful target, so Jacob was left with a mother that treated him like an inconvenience. But this was bigger than sending him off to boarding school and ignoring every sign that he needed more. Deserved more.
“I just knew it was my father. After Venice and everything and his track record, it was right up his alley. Seeing her name on that certificate was like a knife to the gut. So I had the most awkward cup of coffee of my life, took the folder and we parted ways. Then I did my own research. I learned everything there was to know about Cole Sommers and throughout the whole process I kept hoping that I'd find out there was some mistake. I bargained with a God I haven’t talked to in years. I asked that if Cole was my brother, to make him Carlton's son because keeping it from me was too cruel, even for my mother.”
He went still. Dangerously so. When I pulled myself up and leaned in, I saw he wasn't as still as I thought. His fists were twitching, like he was dying to punch something. Or someone.
“Jacob, are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” His voice was like smoke, wild and elusive. “I had, have a brother. All those years when I thought I had no one: a father who didn't give a damn, and a mother who cared about everything but her son-”
He cleared his throat and in that moment I knew I'd get no more out of him. The pain Alicia caused ran too deep and if my head was spinning with all of this, Jacob had to officially be in 'fuck this' territory.
So I put all questions about what came next on hold and committed Jacob's brother's name and place of employment to memory.
“You hungry?” I chirped. “Pasta sounds kind of perfect right now.”
He grunted something that sounded like ‘sure’ and I practically flew back into the apartment. I was a flurry of hands and pots and noodles, only pausing when I turned to the fridge. I held onto the bar with both hands, breathing deep and exhaling until I felt like I'd pushed all the air from my body. Emotions consumed me, running the gamut from ‘choke my mother-in-law’ angry to heartbreaking sorrow for Jacob. What he said about having someone, having a brother or sister to turn to, having someone...
Tears stabbed my eyes as I tore open the fridge and dove into the produce drawer. The tomatoes stood no chance as I sliced and diced brutally. I flipped on the stove, mesmerized by the flame. There was no changing the past. No way to turn back the clock and give Jacob and his brother the childhood and relationship they deserved. But they could still get to know each other. They just needed the opportunity.
I turned to face the dining room table, a plan taking root.
I couldn't take away Jacob's pain, but I could help him get to know Cole.
EIGHT
****
With everything going on with me and Jacob, I'd been dodging my mother's phone calls. On one hand, her fierce love never made my question if she truly cared for me. I knew that my mother loved and supported me; that at the end of the day when the dust settled she'd be there. But it wasn't all warm and fuzzy. The fierce part meant that she was incapable of not meddling. Incapable of not pushing me in the direction that she felt was right—my desires be damned.
Returning her calls before would have meant lying, which would have been pointless. Even via phone she would have sniffed out the truth, and then she would have showed up at our doorstep, ready to play relationship therapist.
But now that the truth was finally out and in the open I didn't send her call to voicemail when her name splashed across my screen. I took a deep breath as I backed out of the parking space and angled toward the exit. “Hi-”
“Is everything okay? I've been calling and calling and I had this bad feeling in my gut.” She took a breath. “Is everything okay with you and Jacob?”