“The reason we called you here is to tell you firsthand about something.” She looks at me. “There are things that happened when I left and—”
“You mean when you gave up on my son and hightailed it out of town without looking back?” my mother asks.
“Okay, then,” Charlotte says, and Billy gets up with her tone and she looks over at him, “I’ve held my tongue for eight years.” She comes to stand next to Kallie, and she holds her hand. “You were my best friend,” she starts to say, “and when I needed you by my side, all you did was blame Kallie. You never once looked at the whole picture.”
“That’s because your daughter was to blame for all of this!” my mother shouts.
“My daughter carried your grandson by herself!” Charlotte yells out this time, and my mother just looks at her. “That’s right, Cristine, while you went around town telling everyone how happy you were that you were going to have a grandson, I had to hold my daughter’s hand while she buried our grandson. She did that all by herself. Carried the pain and the burden by herself. A piece of her gone forever.” I look over at Charlotte.
“Now I’m sorry that I’m doing this without easing into it, but I’ve had enough of you blaming Kallie for this.” My mother puts her hands to her chest, and Charlotte walks over to the picture that Kallie took out before. “This is Gabriel.” She hands my mother a picture, and she takes it in her shaking hand. “He was born November thirteenth.” She looks over at Kallie who now wipes her own tear away. “And he was beautiful.”
“He looks like Jacob,” Mom says and wipes her tear away.
“Mom, this stops today,” I finally say. “This blaming Kallie stops today.” I hold onto Kallie as I pour it out for her. “I made a mistake, one mistake, and I’ve paid for it. I’ve watched you mourn Dad. I’ve stood by you when Travis hightailed it after Dad died. I’ve stepped into his shoes, and not once have I complained about it. Not once did I ask you for anything.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you this stops today.” I look over at Kallie, who just stares at me. “If you can’t respect Kallie, then it’s over. I won’t call you, and I won’t come over. You’ll lose another son. Just this time, I’m going to be right in front of your face with my happiness. Mine and Kallie’s because she’s my choice, she’s always been my choice, and she will always be my choice. I will always choose her.”
“Jacob …” my mother starts, and I hold up my hand.
“There are no second chances, Mom, but I was lucky enough to get one, and I’m going to do what I need to do to keep her. I want to make her happy, and I want her to be comfortable to walk anywhere without people pointing and throwing the mistake that I made in her face.” I look at Kallie. “I made a mistake with Savannah, and I broke the trust she had in me. I can’t even begin to think how it would feel for it to happen to me. And if I’m honest”—I shake my head—“I don’t think I could survive it.”
“Jacob.” She says my name and picks up our joined hands and kisses my fingers.
“I want a life with her, and I want to have all the kids she will allow me to have with her. I want to wake up with her and go to bed with her. I want to sit out on my porch when we’re eighty and watch our grandkids run around. I want you in that life also, Mom, but I won’t compromise Kallie to make you happy.”
“You have a son,” my mother says. “You see your child in pain, and you would do whatever you need to do to make him happy. That is what I was trying to do.”
“The things you said about Kallie were horrible,” Charlotte says. She shakes her head. “Never once did I say anything about Jacob. Not one time did I throw anything in your face. I can forgive, but I’m not going to forget. I just can’t.”
“Mom.” Kallie wraps an arm around her.
“No,” she says. “For eight years, you were gone. We didn’t have you for Christmas, we didn’t have you for birthdays, we had nothing. I had to sit down on Christmas Day and have an empty chair, and I couldn’t do or say anything to anyone. I’m not going to do that anymore. I will not let her chase you away.”
“I won’t,” my mother whispers. “I won’t. I’m so sorry, Kallie.” She looks down now. “But you didn’t just run from Jacob, you ran from me, too. You were like a daughter to me, and you just cut me out.” She wipes tears from her eyes. “I lost a daughter that day also, and I know I should have reached out, and I should have done so many things differently, and for that I’m sorry.” She looks at Charlotte. “To both of you.”