Page 94 of Thicker Than Water
On the surface, it doesn’t change anything. Jason’s still in his bed. An officer is still outside his door. But there’s a new soberness to the room, different from the anxiety that’s hovered here all week. It’s a funereal air, even as Jason’s improving, his cheeks more pink than yellow, his voice smoother, like it’s been polished overnight. For a while, we stumble through small talk—the temperature in the room, the night nurse’s clammy hands—and when a different nurse comes to check Jason’s vitals, we fall into a silence so heavy that the woman, clearly embarrassed for us, smiles at the awkwardness, humming as she leaves.
Finally, I ask something that’s been bothering me. “Where did you go after Gavin’s that night?”
The police made so much of Jason’s timeline, but in the end, the story of Gavin’s murder didn’t explain why it took Jason three hours to get home from the conference.
Jason hesitates, eyes filled with apprehension. “Does he know what happened?” he asks, nodding toward Aiden while staring at me, like he can’t bring himself to look at our son.
“Yeah, I know everything,” Aiden says, and I reach out to rub his back, loving him so much for answering on his own.
Jason nods, solemn, but less ashamed than I’d expect. “I went to Integrity Plus,” he answers me, “to use the phone. Mine was dead, but I needed to know that Maeve was okay. I left her a message, telling her I’d stay at the office for a while so she could call me back there. Because when I left Gavin’s, she spoke to me likeIwas the monster, but— I needed her to understand. I’d only wanted to protect her. That’s why I was there that night in the first place,it’s even why—” He coughs, weakly. “The accident. I remember it now. For days, she still wouldn’t talk to me. By Sunday night, I knew she’d killed him. And I had no intention of turning her in. But she wouldn’t even look at me at work. Wouldn’t answer my calls. So I stopped by the senior center in Hillstead—she volunteers there Tuesday nights—and I waited for her to come out. She wouldn’t talk to me then, either. She drove away so fast. I tried to call her on the road, wanted to see if I could meet her at her house instead. But then I—I dropped the phone, and when I tried to pick it up…” He lifts his hands, a helpless gesture.
Sienna and I share a disturbed glance. The room buzzes with silence, audible as an alarm.
Aiden is the first to break it. “You were, like, stalking her, Dad.”
“What? No, bud. I just wanted to help. She had no one else to talk to about it.”
“It wasn’t your place,” Sienna says, “to decide what she needed to talk about. Just like it wasn’t your place to harass her—”
“Harass her?”
“—about what Gavin might have done to her. Not after she told you to drop it.”
“But,” Jason says, “you didn’t see the way he touched her as he put her in his car. His hand lingered, and it seemed like— I could just tell he— How could I not try to find out what happened? Or try to stop him from doing it again?”
“God, you still don’t get it!” Sienna cries. “You should have stopped himthen. At the party.”
“Exactly,” I say, and Jason’s gaze ping-pongs between us. “It’s one thing not to speak up when Gavin made comments in meetings—”
“Even though you definitely should have,” Sienna cuts in.
“But when you saw what looked like Gavin taking advantage of Maeve—thatwas the time to act. Not when Maeve decided to driveGavin home. Even if you didn’t understand her choice, you should have respected it. Respected her. Because all you did was make things”—I shake my head, nauseated—“so much worse.”
Surprise blooms like a bruise on Jason’s face.
“Idorespect Maeve,” he says. “I know I should’ve stopped Gavin the night of the party, but that’s why I was trying so hard to—to make things right. After.” Tears glaze his eyes, making them glisten in the light. “I made a mistake, and I wanted to fix it so badly. And I never meant tohurthim, but… I know. You’re right, I know. I made things worse.”
At that, he grips his forehead with one hand, and a sob overtakes him—a single sound so intense my eyes zip to his monitor.
Sienna crosses her arms, clenches her jaw, but when she speaks, her tone has softened. “Jason, I understandwhyyou did this. And the feelings, the history it sprang from.”
Her pause stretches out, heavy with meaning.
“But there are some things you can’t fix or make right,” she adds. “You just have to live with what you’ve done. And decide whether you’ll let it define you.”
Jason bites his bottom lip, stilling its tremble. He straightens his shoulders against the pillows. “Are you talking about… the other party? With Clive?” He slides a guilty glance toward Aiden before returning to Sienna. “Are you saying there’s no way I can make that right with you? That you won’t be able to forgive me?”
Pain darkens Sienna’s face, like a cloud blotting out the sun. She’s quiet for a while, swallowing twice before she answers.
“I’m going to work on it. Forgiveness. Not defining people by their mistakes. Not just with you, but—” She looks away, clearing her throat. “You know what? This is a lot; I need some water. You guys probably want some time alone anyway.”
“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Aiden says. “I need water too.”
He coughs into his fist, but the sound is forced. I feel his discomfort, even though he asked to come here today. I suspected, even before we left the house, that he didn’t really want to, but I took it as a good sign that he did it anyway. There’s so much hurt and confusion scrambled inside him, and I know I’ll have to work to make him feel safe enough to share that with me, to let him know that, whenever he’s ready, I’m here and he’ll be heard.
As Sienna slings her arm over Aiden’s shoulder and guides him into the hall, it’s the first time since last Tuesday morning that I’ve been alone with Jason. I wonder, given his arrest, how much alone time we have left. I wonder what it might feel like, seeing him in a prison jumpsuit, if it would be worse or better than seeing his hospital gown.
“What about you?” he says, a hitch in his voice. “Will you be able to forgive me? I’m so sorry for lying to you about the money. And for taking it without asking.” He dips his gaze, studying the blanket. “I know that trip meant a lot to you. I still really want to take you.”
