This Heart of Mine. Brenda Novak

she hadn’t heard the question. Jacob became so distracted putting on the bracelet, and then eating, that he didn’t pursue an answer.

      From there the conversation became a bit stilted. Phoenix asked about his grades, expressed pride that he was doing so well and encouraged him to continue. Then she asked if he had a girlfriend. He said he didn’t, that he was interested in a few different girls, but mostly just as friends, and then the conversation lagged again. It would’ve been more natural to talk to Riley, too, but Phoenix was careful not to direct a single question to him. She didn’t want him to worry that she might still have feelings for him. Sometimes their brief relationship played out in her mind, usually late at night. Those memories were some of the best she had. But she told herself they continued to matter simply because she hadn’t shared the same kind of intimacy with any other person. She’d been barely eighteen when she went to prison and, although she’d been approached by various male guards over the years, which some of her fellow inmates resented, she’d never even kissed anyone besides Riley. One guard sent her a few letters after he quit his job at the prison, but she never responded. He lived in the Bay Area, and she’d planned to return to Whiskey Creek; she’d realized all along that she’d have a very brief period to get to know her son before he reached adulthood. She didn’t want to waste time on a man, especially considering how fickle and unreliable they could be, judging by the speed with which Riley had fallen in and out of love with her.

      Even without being addressed, Riley added a comment here and there to support what Jacob said. Whenever that happened, Phoenix would turn a polite smile on him to acknowledge his remark. But she kept her attention on her son, which worked fine—until the check came. Then she had to engage Riley because he tried to pluck it off the corner of the table.

      Thankfully, she managed to grab it before he could. She wouldn’t allow him to buy her a meal, to buy her anything. This was a matter of pride, what little pride she could salvage, anyway. She’d extended the invitation; she’d pay the tab. Anything else might make him believe she was out to get something from him when, other than his blessing for her to see Jacob, she definitely wasn’t.

      “I don’t mind,” he said, as if he wasn’t sure whether to insist while she counted out her money.

      Even with the tip, she had enough—thank God. “It’s my treat, but I appreciate the offer,” she said firmly.

      Leaving the money on the table, she slid out of the booth.

      “Breakfast was good,” Jacob said.

      A jolt of hope and happiness shot through her that he seemed to have enjoyed himself. The path ahead of them would not be smooth, but she’d survived her first breakfast with Jacob and didn’t feel she was about to fall apart. It probably helped that she’d had a lot of practice with disappointment. She hoped the next encounter would be easier, and the next even easier and so forth. She had to start somewhere.

      “It was my pleasure,” she told him.

      Although she tried to lag behind, they waited for her to precede them. She didn’t own a car, which meant she’d be walking five miles to the barren spot of land her mother had inherited from her own parents. Lizzie had two old trailers on that property—the one she’d filled so full of junk she could no longer live in it, which was now Phoenix’s home, and the one she occupied herself, with her five dogs, two hamsters and a parrot.

      Once they got outside, she stepped out of the way so they could move past her and into the parking lot. “Thank you for meeting me.”

      Riley squinted against the bright spring sunshine and gazed around, as if he expected someone to be there to pick her up. “How are you getting home?”

      She didn’t answer that question directly for fear he’d take it as a hint that she wanted a ride. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got it covered.”

      “You’ve got what covered?”

      “Aren’t we talking about a way home?”

      “Someone’s coming to pick you up, then? When will they be here? Do you need to use my phone?”

      Now that he’d pinned her down, she had to tell the truth. She couldn’t use the cell he offered. She had no one to call. “There’s no need to bother anyone. It’s such a nice day I’m happy to walk.”

      He glanced down at her strappy sandals. “You can make it that far in those?”

      “I made it here,” she said. “They’re very comfortable.” Whether that was true or not wasn’t important. They were all she owned.

      He didn’t seem convinced, but when she waved and turned to go, he started toward his truck. Jacob was the one who called her back.

      “Mom?”

      Phoenix’s heart hit her chest with one giant thud. He hadn’t addressed her as anything yet, let alone Mom. She hadn’t expected to hear him say that, not right away, especially since she’d given him permission to use her first name instead. “Yes?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as strangled to him as it did to her.

      “You told me I could say anything.”

      “Jacob.” Riley spoke their son’s name as a warning, but Phoenix ignored that, along with his frown.

      “You can. It’s absolutely okay.”

      “No matter what it is?”

      She swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected the questions to begin quite this soon. “Of course.”

      Jacob looked at his father, but his inner turmoil was obviously driving him to disregard the quick shake of Riley’s head. “Did you do it?” he asked. “Because I have to hear that answer from you. I want to know the truth after wondering about it all these years.”

      She didn’t mind him asking. She longed to tell him the truth. But it would’ve been much easier to discuss this some quiet night when Riley wasn’t with them, because she knew Riley would doubt every word she said. She was afraid he might even scoff at her denial, if not in front of her, then once he and Jacob got in the truck.

      Still, now that she had the chance to tell Jacob she was innocent, she had to take it. Kids didn’t always wait for the best time or place, and if she missed this opportunity, maybe she’d never have another. Not like this, with her son so...open.

      Tempted to grab his arms or do something else to impress on him just how fervent she was, she stepped forward. But she was still afraid that coming on too strong would scare him away. So she stopped there and lowered her voice for emphasis. “I didn’t do it. I swear I didn’t do it.”

      “But you were driving the car! You had to have done it.” Although he sounded argumentative, he spoke as if he wanted her to persuade him otherwise, and she appreciated that more than he could ever know.

      “There was someone else in the car, Jacob. Have you heard about this?” He must’ve been told bits and pieces over the years. But he hadn’t even been born when the trial took place, and he would’ve been ten or twelve before he was old enough to hear what had happened. That meant that whoever told him the story had very likely simplified an incident that was over a decade old. And once Jake entered his teens, maybe he felt it was a subject his father didn’t want to touch, so he didn’t push.

      “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Who was it?”

      Did this mean that Riley was so convinced she’d been lying when she gave her side of the incident that he didn’t even present it?

      She didn’t know how else to interpret it. “A girl my age—a friend of sorts that I was supposed to be doing a homework project with,” she said. “My mother let me take the Buick so we could go to her house after school. When we spotted Lori Mansfield walking back to the high school after finishing her cross-country run, the girl who was with me said we should give her a little scare. I laughed. Maybe I said something that she took for agreement—I don’t remember—because the next thing I knew,