Page 89 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

Jackson slumped, knowing that Dad was talking about me. His shoulders hunched forward as the guilt from last night weighed them down.

“I think you need to confront your mother,” Mom declared. “Get it out and over with. Find out why she’s here, then you can dictate what will happen next. Right now, she has the power because she surprised you. You need to take it back.”

Mom’s direct approach might not always work when giving me advice, but it seemed right up Jackson’s alley. She was a younger version of Hazel and she was going to go all mama bear for him.

After Hazel had her five minutes with Jackson’s mother, my mom would be next in line.

“I don’t know if I should see her or not,” Jackson confessed. “Nothing good can come from her being here.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Dad shrugged. “But I wouldn’t see her because she has something to say. I’d see her because you do. This could be your chance to get some closure. You deserve that much.”

“Maybe,” Jackson mumbled. “I’ll think on it.”

“Do you think she left town?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Thea texted me this morning and said she saw her car at the motel.”

“She probably wants something,” Mom muttered. “Any idea what it could be?”

“Money?” Jackson guessed. “Maybe she thinks I have some.”

“Is there any chance she wants to make amends?” Dad asked.

Jackson stared at his coffee mug. It took him a few moments, but he murmured, “No.”

My heart broke for him, but he was right. If that woman had wanted to apologize for dumping her son in the middle of New York City to fend for himself, that would have been the first thing out of her mouth yesterday.

“I hate her,” I whispered.

The entire table’s eyes were on me, probably because I hadn’t ever said those words in my life about another person. Mom and Dad had taught me not to hate. Dislike, sure, but not hate.

I did though. I hated Jackson’s mother and I didn’t even know her name.

“What’s her name?” I asked Jackson.

“Melissa.”

“Melissa,” I repeated. “I hate her.”

I hated her for all that she’d done to break Jackson’s spirit. I hated her for abandoning him. I hated that because of her, he didn’t trust anyone. It was her fault that he’d closed off his heart.

Jackson’s hand came to my knee. “Maybe your mom is right. Maybe I should confront her. Find out what she wants. Then we can all let her go. For good.”

The concern in his eyes wasn’t for himself, but for me, because he didn’t want his burden to bring me down.

“Okay. It’s settled.” Mom stood from her chair. “Jackson, have you had breakfast? You look like you need some greasy food. I’ll make you an omelet.”

“Thanks, Betty.”

Dad stood too, grabbing Jackson’s coffee mug. “I’ll get you a refill.”

As they disappeared into the kitchen, Jackson spun in his chair. He took my face in his hands and gently kissed my forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not staying mad at me even though I deserve it. For getting so worked up over my mother that you’d throw down right beside Hazel.”

“I’ve never thrown down before, but I think I could win.”