Page 84 of Jar of Hearts
Of course the easiest path would have been to tell Kaiser about Dominic and have him track down her son to warn him about Calvin. But that wouldn’t be right. It has to come from her.
Dominic finally responds.Is today too soon? I can come there, I have a truck. Do u have family pictures? Is ur father around? Would be good to meet him, too.
Of course he would want to meet Walt. The adoption agency—or maybe it was the Kents, when he was little—must have told him about Geo’s family, that her mother had passed away, because Dominic wasn’t asking to meet his grandmother.
Geo:He’s at work until 6, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner and meet him when he gets home. I’m at 425 Briar Crescent. It’s the house I grew up in, so there are plenty of family photos to look at.
Dominic:I can be there in an hour. Can’t wait to meet u.
Geo:Perfect. See you soon.
***
She prepares as if she’s getting ready for a first date with a man she’s really excited to spend time with, which is, after all, what this is. She takes a fast shower, blow dries her hair, puts on a little makeup in an effort to look polished but not overdone. She throws on a pair of leggings and a cute sweater she forgot she had. She bustles around the kitchen, applying dry rub to the pork roast she had originally planned to make for Cat. It takes about four hours to cook, so best to start now if they want to eat at a reasonable hour. There’s a bottle of midpriced red wine in the pantry, and she starts to reach for it, only to catch herself and shake her head at her silliness. He’s only eighteen, for Christ’s sake. He can’t drink, and even if he does, she’s his mother. She can’t offer him alcohol.
Oh god, she’s hismother. The nervousness hits her then, and she goes to the living room to sit down, trying to quell her anxiety.
Will he like her? Will he hate her? He sounded friendly enough over Facebook. Articulate, too, from their short conversation.
An old white Isuzu pickup truck drives down the street, pullingto a complete stop at the curb outside the house.He’s here. The police officer assigned to protect Geo immediately steps out of his vehicle, and Geo opens the front door.
“It’s fine,” she calls out to the officer, heart pounding. “I’m expecting him. He’s family.”
The officer nods, lifting a hand to acknowledge her, and gets back into the car.
She’s about to meet her son.
She waits on the porch with the door open behind her as the driver of the Isuzu slowly gets out of his truck. Hesitant at first, he starts up the driveway toward her, and Geo’s hand flies up to her mouth when she sees him up close. She takes a giant step backward, almost tripping over the threshold, unprepared.
The man walking toward her is Calvin James.
31
It’s not Calvin. Of course it isn’t. But there’s no mistaking the physical similarities, the six-foot height, the same dark hair combed up and off the face, James Dean style. He’s even lean and muscled like Calvin was, and the contours of his arms are visible under the thin hoodie he’s wearing.
The only thing missing is Calvin’s swagger, the ability to own a room the minute he steps into it. Dominic doesn’t have it—his smile is shy, and he seems nervous, too. But he’s still a teenager; the confidence may come in time.
“Hi,” Geo says, and the word comes out in one long, breathy syllable, making her sound like a Valley girl.Hiiiiiii.
“Hello. Thanks for inviting me over.” Dominic’s voice is deep, identical in tone to Calvin’s, which also catches her off guard. But Calvin had a lazy way of speaking, and in contrast his son speaks a bit faster, with more precision. More like Walt. “There’s a police car outside. Everything okay?”
She’s flustered, but he seems to be as well, and they exchange awkward smiles. “Everything’s fine,” she says. “Don’t worry about it, he won’t bother us. Please, come in.”
The fall day is crisp and a gust of chilled wind follows him through the door as he steps inside. Dominic looks around, notes her socked feet, and removes his shoes, placing them neatly off to the side. He catches her staring again, but he seems okay with it.
“We have the same eyes,” he says.
He’s right. They do. Dark, slightly almond shaped. She smiles. “Can I get you something?”
He shakes his head. “I’m good. I was early so I stopped at the 7-Eleven down the street and downed a Big Gulp.”
“That was the 7-Eleven where I—” She swallows, stopping in time. She was about to saywhere I met your dad,but he doesn’t know who his father is yet. It’s not right to spring details like that on him before he’s ready.
He waits politely for her to finish what she was going to say, and when she doesn’t, he looks around again. She’s wringing her hands, and forces herself to stop, gesturing instead toward the living room.
“There are pictures on the mantel,” she says. “Go and look.”
He nods and walks into the living room. She trails behind, noting that he really does move like his father. It’s interesting to see how some things are truly genetic—things like posture and gait. He’s all Calvin, head-to-toe, with maybe a tiny sprinkle of Walt.
