Rule No. 1: Don’t be too emotional : Chapter 44

I am summer yearning for a drop of your rain.

Gemma Troy

“JP DID WHAT!?”

I cried out in mid-breakfast, dropping my fork as Jamie excitedly spilled everything that happened yesterday. I whipped my head around to look at the man sitting at the table, who was trying to signal Jamie to shut up. It was too late.

“And I shot those watermelons like-Bang! Bang! Bang!”

“We need to talk, Mr. Palakorn,” I said firmly. Jamie froze mid-story.” Outside. Now!” I marched into the front garden and waited with crossed arms. Eventually, his deep voice drifted out before he did.

“What is it, Jane?” He asked as if he hadn’t a care in the world, which made me even angrier.

“What were you thinking, hurting a child like that?”

“He hit Jamie first. Didn’t you see Jamie’s eye?” He gestured back toward the house, but I didn’t back down.

“I saw it! But do you think threatening a kid is the right way? You should have taken Jamie to the teacher or the administration. You don’t get to play vigilante!”

“And then what?” JP countered.

“The teacher makes the kid apologize in front of everyone without a shred of sincerity? You think that stops a bully? Once he leaves that office, he’s free to ambush Jamie again. That kid is two feet taller than Jamie. I’ve dealt with types like him; I won’t let Jamie be a victim.”

“The boy could have been suspended or expelled!” I argued.

“Suspended just so he can come back and bully Jamie more? Or expelled so he can hold a grudge and jump him later? Your methods are just theories, Jane. In the real world, men settle things eye for eye, neck to neck. If he weren’t a child, I would have punched him until his nose broke.”

“P’Jane!” I gasped.

“I’m a man too; I know how the world works. But Jamie is nine. You’re thirty-two! You’re old enough to be their father. You should be the calm one. This is child abuse!”

“If he didn’t mess with Jamie, I wouldn’t have touched him,” he said coldly.

“Even so, you can’t do that! You should have called the police!”

“And how long would that take? A kid like that needs to learn there’s always someone bigger. Otherwise, he becomes a worse monster. Even the girl’s mother came to thank me for helping her daughter. Harry doesn’t dare bully anyone now. So, tell me-did my way work?”

“It worked, but it wasn’t right.” Our eyes locked. He was unshakeable.

“If it bothers you that much, just think of it as me taking Jamie to a shooting range for sports. Does that make you feel better?” I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to punch his handsome face. He was raising Jamie like a gangster’s son.

“Why pay for me to take child psychology courses if you’re going to set an example of brutality?”

“You take the courses to understand him. You do your job, I’ll do mine. Don’t interfere,” JP said, drawing a hard line.

“Your way is too soft. It’ll turn Jamie into a weak, oblivious kid.”

“Isn’t that why you hired me?” I shouted.

“You wanted someone gentle for him! My way will make Jamie kind, well-mannered, and smart-someone people actually love! At this age, he needs warmth, not target practice!”

“Are you saying I’m cold and rigid?” I didn’t answer. He knew he was.

“I don’t care,” he said icily.

“I’m satisfied with my life. No one can touch me.”

“Because you never care about anything!”

“So what?”

“It’s your business how you live, but why use ‘growth stimulants’ on Jamie? Why such strong medicine? He’s only nine!”

“Because I want him to be strong. To live in this world without anything being able to knock him down. And if he falls, he gets up. I’m not the type to blow on someone’s boo-boos; I teach how to overcome the pain.”

“Without caring if his heart needs a rest? Or if he’s even ready to hold a gun? Adults are sensitive, so how can a child not be? Talking to you is useless if you can’t see your own fault.”

“I never said what I did was ‘right.’ Do I look like I have ‘Saint’ in front of my name?” That stupid line again. Jamie interrupted us, eyes teary.

“Please stop! Don’t fight.” We stood in silence for a minute. JP tapped Jamie’s head.

“It’s because you blabbed, pumpkin head.”

“I’m telling Mr. Chuck Terry about this,” I threatened.

“If you’re so sure you’re right, your father will agree, right?”

“Stop right there,” JP turned to me, his tone dangerous.

“You’re overstepping.”

“I’m not. Taking him to shoot a gun is overstepping!” I turned to Jamie, my voice instantly softening.

“Let’s go inside, Jamie. You have piano today. Miss Piano and I are looking forward to your music.” Jamie smiled .

“Really?”

“Really. It’s much better than the sound of a gun.” Later, as Jamie played, I taught him the “correct” way to handle bullies-telling a teacher or an adult. Jamie listened but then said,” But JP said… to punch back. I don’t want to get beat up again.” I sighed. Maybe JP was partly right. If you don’t fight for yourself, who will? Jamie hugged me tightly.

“I like to hug you. You’re so soft.”

“I’ Il be your mom, your dad, your brother-anything,” I whispered.” I love you, Lil’ Jane. Please don’t leave me like Mom did. Stay with me forever.” That night, JP burst into my room while Jamie was on a video call with his father. JP hung up the call for Jamie and tried to drag him to his own room.

“No! I’m sleeping here tonight with Lil’ Jane!” Jamie cried, clinging to my bedpost like a little monkey.

“You’re definitely not,” JP growled, scooping Jamie up. Jamie kicked and screamed. I ran after them.

“P’Jane, stop! Let him stay.”

“It’s past his bedtime and past your working hours. Go back to your room.”

“Fuck you, JP!” Jamie swore.

“Hey! Who taught you that?” JP barked.

“You did!” Jamie screamed. After a chaotic struggle, JP threw Jamie onto his bed and threatened to take his iPad forever if he didn’t sleep. JP seemed unusually irritable-aggressively so. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on my door. It was JP. He walked in and shut the door behind him. He had changed into his favorite dark blue button-down silk pajamas. He looked incredibly hot-a total “Zaddy.”

“What is it?” I asked, my heart racing.

“I’m sleeping here,” he said simply.

“What? Are you joking?”

“If Jamie can sleep here, so can l.”

“It’s not the same!” I yelled, my cheeks burning.

“My AC is broken. It’s boiling in my room.”

“Go sleep in Jamie’s room then!”

“He kicks in his sleep.”

“What about the guest rooms?”

“The maids haven’t cleaned them. They’re covered in dust. Are you really going to make me sleep in a room with no AC? That’s cold, Jane.” I was melting. Before I could argue further, my phone rang. It was my dad. My mother was very sick and hadn’t improved after seeing two doctors. I asked JP for an emergency leave.

“Take two days,” he said gently.

“I’ll handle Jamie.” I was touched. My worry for my mother killed my urge to fight.

“Fine. You can sleep here. I’m going to shower.” When I came out, the room was dim. JP was lying on the bed with his back to me. I climbed in quietly, the sound of a thunderstorm outside mirroring the pight we first met years ago.

“What is your mother sick with?” he asked into the dark.

“The doctor said the flu, but it won’t go away.” Silence fell. I was stiff with nerves. We hadn’t shared a bed in so long.

“Jane,” he called softly.

“Yes?”

“What did you do with the condo?” My heart stopped. We never talked about the past. Not since I came back.

“I sold it,” I managed to say. He nodded. Silence again. Then: “Before you sold it… did you find anything in there?”

“What do you mean? There was a lot of stuff.”

“Never mind. It wasn’t important. Go to sleep.” I whispered into the dark, “Was it the bouquet of lilacs? And the letter where you wrote ten things you loved about me?” “The one where you said you’d love me forever?” “… ”

“Is that the one you mean… my Big Jane?”