Chapter 60

“Stephanie.” Jon said gently, afraid of provoking another outburst.

His daughter looked at him seriously. And a little sadly. It was always hard when those shining visions of a perfect parent were so suddenly and irretrievably shattered.

“Dad.” She replied softly.

Dad. She called me dad. Oh, Jesus, thank you….. Jon was under no illusions that he still had a lot of work to do to repair his relationship with his daughter, but the simple fact of her calling him ‘dad’, after the screams of how ‘her dad’ wouldn’t do that……..it was a start.

“Sit with me?”

Without waiting for her to agree or not, Jon sat on the couch, looking over to where she still stood uncertainly. After a moment - perhaps remembering some promise to her mother that she’d give him a chance to explain - she relented and came over to sit on the same couch, half turned on the seat so she faced him.

“I love you, Stephy. You know that, right?” Jon waited until she nodded, then ploughed forward. “And I’d never - ever - do anything to hurt you on purpose. You, or your brothers, or your mom.”

“So what happened, dad?” She blurted, then flushed. “I mean, I don’t need, y’know details, but…….you and Billie. Jay. How? Why?”

Jon looked at her consideringly, wondering just how much he should explain to her. Uhhh, gee, ALL OF IT, asshole? Keeping secrets has worked soooo fuckin’ well - maybe we should just try the whole truth. Well, okay, except for maybe one detail. Not sayin’ it, and I doubt if Steph needs - wants - to hear how daddy couldn’t get it up.

“From the beginning?” He asked carefully, and Steph just nodded again. “Okay. From the beginning.”


Richie wandered aimlessly around the living room of Jay’s apartment while the younger man showered. Showered as best he could with both hands wrapped in bandages. Looked like another patch-up job for Desi when he got to the hospital. When he emerged from the bedroom, clean and wearing fresh clothes, Jay found Richie holding a photograph - the photo of him and his mom. Neither of them knew, of course, that it had also drawn Jon’s attention, the day he and Billie met at the apartment, but Richie’s reaction to it was similar, as all he could see was the similarity to his friend.

“My favorite picture of me and mom.” Jay said softly, and Richie turned with a grin.

“It’s a great photo. I just……” He shook his head wonderingly. “I just don’t get how none of us ever saw it. The resemblance, I mean.”

“I guess because nobody was looking for it.” Jay shrugged as he stuffed his feet back into a pair of battered cowboy boots - his hands hurt too bad to try tying shoelaces, and there was no way in hell he was asking Richie to tie his shoes for him!

“Ready?” Richie laid the picture down again.

“Yeah.”

Jay quickly called for a cab - their detective-driver had left them at the apartment building, driving off with their thanks, and also with Richie’s card. She had offered to wait, to drive them to the hospital, but they said no. Mostly because that would’ve meant her coming up to the apartment to wait - she wasn’t some cabbie they’d leave sitting in the car - and that would have put a real crimp in any attempts to talk about the current situation. They instinctively liked her, and trusted her, but Jay’s parentage wasn’t a matter for public information. Not yet. And they’d keep it that way as long as they could.

On arriving at the hospital, though, Jay was dismayed to see a burgeoning media circus, and he turned to Richie.

“You don’t think………” He couldn’t finish the thought. The thought that, already, Nick had spilled the news about who his father was - anything to divert attention from his own crime.

“No.” Richie looked out of the cab window. “I think they’ve just moved it on over here after finding out Billie is your mom. I don’t think it’s anything else.” Because if it were about Jon, there’d be a shitload more of them. “Just stay cool. Lots of ‘no comment’ until we get inside, yeah?”

“Okay.” Jay mumbled. Dammit, but when he’d gone into professional sports, sure he’d hoped for popularity - maybe even fame - but he’d never wanted this kind of attention. He just wanted to play football! Okay, so right now it was Arena Football, when his dream was of a spot in an NFL team, but he was young and on his way up. He could wait a little while for one of the ‘big boys’ to notice him. Meantime, he was gaining in strength and experience, which could only stand him in good stead for his future playing career.

So, when they got out of the cab, he followed Richie’s suggestion - quiet, polite……but very definite on the ‘no comment’. He made it to the hospital doors before his - not quite temper, but nature - took hold, and he turned to face the reporters.

“Please.” He said firmly, his voice not raised yet clearly heard. “Please. My mom is sick and I just want to go see her. I…….I ask that you respect her privacy and give us some space. When she’s better - and if she wants to - I’m sure she’ll speak with you.”

Richie had grimaced when Jay turned to face the reporters. Seemed the boy had inherited his father’s stubborn streak all the way. Why couldn’t he just listen to the advice of someone who had way too much experience of dealing with the press? Then, though, Richie was pleasantly surprised, firstly at Jay’s quiet, heartfelt request for understanding, then even more so at the reporters backing off slightly. Which probably wouldn’t have happened if Jay’s attitude had been ‘fuck off’ rather than ‘please be nice’.

“Thank you.” Jay said with a small smile, before turning and heading into the hospital. Richie just smiled as he followed him into the building.

“Sorry.” Jay muttered as they strode along the hallway, glancing sideways at Richie. “I know you said to keep it to ‘no comment’, but……”

“Hey, you did good, Jay.” Richie reassured him, punching the elevator button.

They rode up to Billie’s floor in companionable silence, then when they reached the room Richie paused.

“I’ll wait here.”

“Thanks, Richie.”

Jay went into the room, finding his mom sitting almost upright, flicking through a magazine. Her color was good and as the door opened and she saw it was him, a beaming smile broke out. His mom’s smile, not the pale, wan smile of the sick woman he’d first seen in this room. She dropped the magazine and extended her arms, and he was only too happy to walk over, hugging her as gently as he could, feeling the strength in her arms again as she pulled him close.

“I’m so happy you’re out of jail.” She said against his ear, then gave a brief, tighter squeeze. “But I’m very very proud of why you ended up there. As weird as that sounds.”

She released him, and Jay chuckled.

“Mom, from you, weird makes perfect sense. Always has.”