Finding Jaime

Chapter 16

In the morning, Jaime came downstairs for breakfast with Marvel.

"I waked Jaime up!" She said, seemingly proud of herself.

"Morning," I said to him. He didn't look at me. What had happened?  We'd started getting along and now, suddenly, the hostility was back. The anger.

"Jaime," Marvel said. "Papa is gonna make Pam cakes. Want pam cakes?"

Jaime looked at Marvel and I held my breath. She's so little and innocent. Don't be rude to her, Jaime, I thought.

"Sure Mar," he said. "Pam cakes sound good."

He had a nickname for her already. And he not only didn't correct her mispronounced 'pancakes', he'd used her word too.

"I like chocko chips in my Pam cakes. Do you?" She asked.

"Huh," Jaime said. "Yeah. They're good with chocko chips." 

Marvel beamed at her older brother.

Just then Saint came in rubbing his eyes.

"What time is Bronx coming home?" He asked.

A cloud fell over Jaime's face.

"Ashlee's bringing him home for lunch. She wants to meet you, too, Jaime."

"Why?" He asked.

"Because you're a part of the family. Because you're my son," I said.

His face darkened again.

"I'm not hungry," he said, getting up and going back upstairs. Meagan passed him and asked if he was okay. He brushed by her with no answer.

"Well," Meagan said. "If we lived in a northern climate, we wouldn't need a furnace with the hot anger coming off that kid.  What happened?"

I shrugged.

"I thought we were making progress and then suddenly, boom. The anger and hostility is back."

"He's an ass," Saint said.

"Saint!" Meagan said.

"What? He is! One second he's nice and talking with Marvel about pancakes and chocolate chips and the next he's storming off like we don't matter."

"Saint," I said. "Jaime's going through a lot right now. We've gotta give him some room, cut him some slack and give him time to grieve and figure things out. I bet he feels lost right now. His whole world has changed. He's lost his mom, he just learned who his dad is and now he has a whole new family with siblings he never knew existed. He needs time to learn where he fits in."

"Maybe he doesn't," Saint mumbled.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Maybe he doesn't fit in. Maybe he doesn't belong here!"

"Saint Laszlo Wentz!" I said. "Jaime belongs in this family as much as anyone else!  We all need time to adjust."

Saint frowned.

I finished the pancakes and put a plate in front of Saint and one in front of Marvel before heading upstairs to talk to Jaime.

I sighed as I stood outside his closed bedroom door.  I knocked.

"Go away," Jaime said.

"I need to talk to you," I said, trying to indicate that he didn't actually have a choice. I'd be coming in anyway.

"I don't care. Go away," he reiterated.

I opened the door anyway. Jaime was lying on his bed. Apparently his favourite place.

"Why do you bother knocking if you're just going to come in anyway?" He glared at me.

"Because it's polite.  You deserve privacy and if you're in the middle of changing or something, I'm not going to just walk in on you."

"And yet, here we are," he frowned.

I pulled his desk chair over to his bed and sat down.

"Jaime, what happened?  I thought we were doing okay. You seemed less, like this yesterday. Then the guys came over and you're back to being angry," I said. "The guys are a big part of my life, and they'll be a big part of yours."

Jaime stared at the ceiling.

"You can talk to me, Jaime. I may not know how you're feeling exactly, but I am here for you."

Tears formed in his eyes and threatened to fall.

"I don't know. I just feel, so, lost. I'm so mad at Mom for dying. I'm mad at you."

"Why are you mad at me?" I asked.

He sniffled.

"Because you had this whole life that didn't include me and Mom."

"But you know I didn't know you existed. You know I would have been there for you if I'd known," I said.

"I know," he whispered. "But I can't help being mad. It's like I don't fit in here. And last night just kinda made me feel like, here are people who knew my mom before, and I never knew. And then Saint mentioned Bronx and I remembered again you have a whole life that I'm not a part of."

"But you are a part of it now. Bronx is looking forward to meeting you. So is Ashlee. Meagan just loves you. But Jaime, maybe we should find someone for you to talk to?  Help you sort out these feelings and learn how to handle your grief?"

"What, like a shrink?" He said.

"Yeah. Like, a grief counsellor," I said.

"I'm not crazy," he said.

"I didn't say you are. But they can help you sort out all these feelings you're having. You're grieving, son. And I can only help you so much."

He looked at me with anger, but then his expression softened.

"Yeah. Okay. Maybe. I'll try," he said.

"Good. I'll find someone and make you an appointment. Think you'll be ready to go back to school on Monday?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"I guess."

"Okay. I'll drive you down, and I'll talk to your principal. Get whatever needs to be changed there changed. Anything I need to know before I walk into that school?"

"Wait, you're not making me switch schools?"

"Not yet. Unless I see some reason you need out of that environment, I think you've had enough changes so far, don't you?"

He nodded.

"So, anything I need to know?"

"No," he said. "I don't think so."

"How are your grades?"

"They're okay," he said.

"Okay, good. Now, want to come downstairs and have some Pam cakes with chocko chips?" I grinned.

He smiled just a bit and nodded. He wiped his eyes and got off his bed and followed me downstairs.