of cake,” he said. “Let me help you.”
He pulled a chair from another table and slouched into it while Phoenix nodded politely to the boy who was with him.
“I’m Tristan,” his friend said.
“Tristan’s on the baseball team with me,” Jake explained.
She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s cool to meet you, too.” He gave her a bashful smile. “Jake told me you were pretty, but...I didn’t think you’d be this pretty.”
“Dude, are you hitting on my mom? Sit down!” Jake said with a shocked laugh.
Phoenix was slightly embarrassed but flattered at the same time. It was good to know Jacob was proud of her, at least in one respect. And she was even more grateful to Kyle, if indeed it was Kyle, for providing the jeans and blouse she was wearing. Otherwise, she’d be in the same clothes she’d worn on Saturday.
“One iced coffee, one mocha,” the barista called out, and Jake asked his friend to get their drinks.
“See? You click on this,” he told her, shifting so they could both view the screen. “Then you choose a username and put your personal information in here.”
“My real name is different enough that I’ll stick with that.”
“Okay.” He typed it for her.
“Do you set up the page the same way if it’s for a business?” she asked.
“You want one for a business, too?”
She saw that he was wearing the bracelet she’d given him. “Yeah. I have a little something going and thought a Facebook page might help.”
“I’m pretty sure it would be the same.”
Tristan returned with their coffees, but instead of getting up and heading out, Jacob continued to prompt her through the Facebook process while Tristan looked on.
A few minutes later, her personal page went live.
“We did it!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll friend you when I get home,” Jacob said.
“So will I,” Tristan piped up.
Jacob cocked an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you’re not friending my mother.”
Tristan went beet red. “Why not?” he muttered, but Jake’s attention had already shifted back to her Facebook page.
“What are you going to use as your profile pic?” he asked.
“Just a photo of some scenery I can grab off the web, I guess. I don’t have a camera.”
“That’s a problem I can fix.” He stood up and pulled out his smartphone. “Smile.”
The optimism and happiness she’d felt this morning, before her mother had quashed it, swelled inside Phoenix again. She grinned up at him, and he snapped a picture before returning to his seat.
“How’d it turn out?” she asked.
He leaned over so they could both look at it, and she breathed deep, taking in the scent of her child and wanting so badly to put her arms around him—to feel him against her just one time, since she’d never been able to hold him when he was a baby.
“It’s good,” he said, oblivious to all the chaotic thoughts and motherly desires he was rousing in her.
“That should work,” she said, and he emailed it to her so she could load it.
“Does your father work today?” she asked as they waited for the photograph to hit her in-box.
“No. He takes Sundays off, which means I’m off, too.” He rocked back and stretched out his legs. “Hallelujah!”
“You don’t like working with him?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s too much fun when all my friends are out messing around. But...I like being able to do what I can do. Nobody else my age can install a water heater or frame a house or put on a roof. And giving up my Saturdays is how I saved enough to buy some wheels.” He motioned to the window, and she glanced out to see a white Jeep. It wasn’t brand-new; it had some miles on it. But he was proud, and she admired Riley for making him earn the money.
She could only imagine what the girls thought of her son and was so glad his high school experience seemed to be better than her own had been. “That’s a nice Jeep,” she said.
“Would you like me to give you a ride?” he asked.
Even at this late date, he seemed open to getting to know her. She wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. “Sure.” She closed her laptop, slid it into the backpack she’d found at her mom’s and appropriated for her own use and stood as he took out his keys.
“It’s a sweet ride,” Tristan said.
She followed them out. “Your father won’t mind you taking me for a test-drive...”
He made a face as if it was ridiculous of her to ask. “Why would he care? It’s my Jeep.”
But Riley wasn’t convinced yet that she was good for him. Jacob had missed that nuance, and she was so excited that he wanted to share something with her, she chose to ignore it. Riley didn’t have to know about the next few minutes. It wasn’t as though she was doing anything wrong by letting Jacob show her his Jeep.
“You can sit in the front,” Tristan volunteered, and hopped into the back without using the door.
Phoenix felt a huge smile stretch across her face. This was “a moment,” she decided, the moment she’d dreamed about for so long. She was with her son, and he seemed okay with having her there.
As Jake started the engine and pulled out, he managed the vehicle so effortlessly she had to marvel at how grown-up he was, and that he had so many abilities.
“I owe your father a lot,” she said, and meant it.
He didn’t seem to follow. “For what?”
“He’s done a great job with you.”
The cocky grin he flashed made her laugh, so then he laughed, too.
She loved the feel of the wind blowing through her hair as they drove, sometimes a little too fast but not so fast that she had to say anything. She was glad of that.
“Have you ever driven a stick?” he asked.
“Me?” Phoenix brought a hand to her chest. “No.” They didn’t teach that in prison. She’d missed out on so much. She hadn’t even been able to name her son. Riley had done that. But more than anything, she regretted not being there to watch Jacob grow up.
He pulled to the side of the road. “Come around. I’ll teach you.”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I haven’t been behind the wheel in a long time. I’ve got to get used to driving an automatic before I attempt a stick.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to try?” he said. “It’s not hard...”
“Just riding around with you is fun for me.”
“Okay,” he said, a bit reluctantly, and drove them to a muddy spot outside town to go off-road. As they lurched around, Phoenix clung to her seat belt. But he wasn’t getting too crazy, so she could enjoy it. By the time they returned to the pavement, her stomach was sore from laughing so much, and she wished she had some money she could offer him for gas.
Maybe next week, she thought. If she had enough bracelet orders. She sold most of her bracelets for fifty dollars, but she’d considered adding some new models, with various silver beads and options to personalize them, and planned to charge seventy-five dollars for