Dear Jake by dponice
The father takes the small package of food from the son's pocket. He wraps two sheets of paper around it. He returns the mother's gift to her son to the pocket. The father can only hope the son accepts both small gifts.
Jake,
Recently you have become withdrawn, almost depressed, at least when you aren't being cranky. This morning you snapped at your mother when all she asked was if you wanted anything to eat. Son, you need a friend, but you're going to have to settle for me.
Between your mother and my former secretary I've always had a pretty good idea of what goes on in public in Jericho and much of what goes on in private. You remember Catherine, don't you. Well she has stayed in touch since her retirement. Her son worked at the feed store, her daughter at the bank, her sister ran the beauty parlor, and her nephew was vice principal at the high school. You get the picture. While much of what made this loosely based information network so effective was destroyed with the EMP, I still get a pretty good earful whenever I check on Catherine. I wasn't just uncomfortable when Heather confronted you on the street outside Gracie's. I was shocked. I knew you and Heather had become friends since you met on that school bus. Yet I'd heard nothing of a kiss, nor had I noticed that you had been avoiding her. Even as I realized this kiss must have happened when I was so sick, my second thought was to wonder if you were an idiot.
Heather is a delight. Jericho was lucky she decided to come here rather than go home to New Bern to teach. She is an asset to the school and the town. The kids love her, the parents love her. It didn't take a bomb for her to jump in and help on town projects. Her enthusiasm for life is infectious. She isn't half bad to look at. She'd just gotten the Curl and Cut seal of approval, they decided to fix up her and Mrs. Prin's nephew.
The trip to Black Jack let me know that your inaction wasn't from lack of interest. The only time your hands relaxed on the wheel was as you were watching Heather in the rear view mirror. She was laughing at some game she and Dale were playing to pass the time. Later as I began to suggest that we split up you started hovering around her like a mama cat with kittens. I don't know how you knew I was going to send you with Dale, but you were obviously not having it. You were annoyed and protective, quite a combination. Whatever was stopping you, it wasn't because you didn't want it.
I felt for you at that intersection where we parted company with the crew from New Bern. As you and Heather spoke, you wrapped your arms around yourself as if to protect yourself from the next blow. And I could see you memorize her feel and scent as you hugged her. But you said nothing as you got in the car except she was going so she could turn on the lights, acting like it was all for the best.
Back in Jericho you kept that up. Being trapped under a truck and a visit from the fake Marines made it easy for a while. But that nonchalance is long past memory. We all see that you are worried. As you stalked out of the house this morning all your mother said was that if Heather didn't get home soon you would be impossible to live with or would collapse. It isn't just your lack of interest in food, she knows you aren't really sleeping. People outside the family have noticed things, too. Like the changing of your border patrol habits. You patrol more. Where before you never did the same post twice in a row, now you patrol one post. Highway 40 has never been so interesting before. Stanley and Jimmy think you should just build a shack out there.
That night under the truck, you gave me a glimpse at something that haunts you. I'm pretty sure that little girl is one of the reasons you tell yourself you shouldn't do this, that you can't have this woman in your life. Jake, we are all damaged imperfect creatures. It is how you rebuild, how you move on that determines your character. Think of all you've done since you've come home. You saved a different little girl and brought those children home despite being injured yourself. You were the one who found a place to wait out the storm for half the town, Then you leave that safety to rescue Emily and Bonnie. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you. You have consistently put yourself on the line for the people around you, even when you didn't know them. Maybe that doesn't make up for everything in your past, but it is the past. It is time you recognize, like I did, that you aren't the same person you were five years ago. Throughout your life many words have passed my lips or entered my thoughts to describe you. During your teens and your twenties those words were foolhardy, careless, reckless, and punk, even disappointment. Somewhere and somehow events during the years you were gone have forged you, remaking those words. Foolhardy has become resourceful, careless became resilient, reckless became brave, and punk became leader. I have always loved you, but since the bombs you have earned my respect, and made me like you and want to get to know you better. I've found myself believing that these times and events would help us to overcome the past and have the relationship I think we have both needed for a long time. You aren't the same person you were before you got back here. However you got here, you are now a fine man, Jake. I am very proud of you. Forgive yourself. It is time you were proud of yourself. It is time that you see what I see, what your mother sees, what Heather sees when we look at you.
And it is time you stop just watching Highway 40. Go. Ask for help if you need it, I know of one man who will gladly watch your back, but go. Go bring her home.
Love,
Dad