It Starts with Us: A Novel (2) (It Ends with Us)

Josh doesn’t trust me, but I’ll wear him down. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t trust anyone, so I’m not taking it personally. If his childhood is anything like mine was, I’m sure he’s been toughened at the age of twelve in a way that no kid should be familiar with.

As much as he glares at me with distrustful eyes, I can also sense that he’s curious about me. He doesn’t ask many questions, but he watches me in a way that makes it obvious he has a million questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever reason, he keeps swallowing them down. He’s probably wondering why I went so easy on him last night after finding out he’s the one who damaged my restaurants. He’s also probably wondering why I didn’t know about him, and how I turned out so vastly different from my mother and Tim.

Whatever he’s wondering, he’s attempting to keep a tight lid on his expressions. I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, so I’ve been doing most of the talking while he eats breakfast. It’s not that hard; I have just as many questions for him as he does for me. It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t sleep last night when we finally made it to my house. I kept listening for the sound of him trying to sneak out of the house. I was honestly shocked he was still here this morning.

As much as my questions are probably annoying him, I can remember what it was like to be twelve. All I wanted was for someone to be interested in who I was, even if they were faking interest. If his life is anything like mine was, he’s gone twelve years being ignored, and I refuse to allow him to feel that way under my roof. But I’ve only been asking him safe questions. I’ll ease into the more difficult stuff.

Josh eats one thing at a time. A biscuit first, then bacon. He’s cutting into the pancakes for the first time when I say, “What are you interested in? Any hobbies?”

He takes a bite, and one of his eyebrows raises a bit, but I don’t know if it’s because of the food or my question. “Why?”

“Why am I asking you what you’re interested in?”

His neck is stiff when he nods.

“I’ve missed twelve years of your life. I want to know who you are.”

Josh breaks eye contact and forks more pancakes into his mouth. “Manga,” he mutters.

That surprises me. But thanks to Theo, I actually know what manga is. “What’s your favorite series?”

“One Piece.” He shakes his head, erasing that answer. “No, Chainsaw Man is probably my favorite.”

That’s about as far into that conversation as I can go without sounding ignorant. “We can go to a bookstore later today if you want.”

He nods. “These are good pancakes.”

“Thanks.”

I watch him take a drink of his juice, and when he sets the glass down, he says, “What are you interested in?” He nods toward the plate. “Other than cooking.”

I don’t know how to answer that. Most of my time is given to my restaurants. Whatever time I have left over is spent on house repairs, laundry, sleep. “I like the Cooking Channel.”

Josh chuckles. “That’s sad.”

“Why?”

“I said besides cooking.”

It’s a harder question than I thought, now that it’s being thrown back at me. “I like museums,” I say. “And going to the movies. And traveling. I just don’t do any of those things.”

“Because you’re always working?”

“Yeah.”

“Like I said. Sad.” He leans over his plate to catch another bite of pancake.

The get-to-know-you questions are backfiring, so I cut right to the chase. “What was your fight about?”

He shrugs. “Half the time I don’t even know what the hell I do wrong. She just gets mad for no reason.”

I can relate to that. I let him eat for a while before I pose another question. “Where have you been staying?”

Josh doesn’t look at me. He scoots food around on his plate for a moment, and then says, “Your restaurant.” His eyes slowly journey back over to mine. “You have a really comfortable couch in your office.”

“You’ve been sleeping inside the restaurant? For how long?”

“Two weeks.”

I’m in shock. “How have you been getting in?”

“You don’t have an alarm at that one restaurant, and I finally figured out how to pick the lock after a few tries. Your other restaurant was too hard to get into, though.”

“You know how to pick…” I can’t help but laugh. Brad and Darin are going to love saying I told you so. “Why’d you go from sleeping there to vandalizing it?”

Josh looks at me reluctantly. “I don’t know. I guess I was mad.” He pushes his plate away and leans back in his chair. “What now? Do I have to go back to her?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“I want to live with my dad.” He scratches at his elbow. “Can you help me find him?”

I want to find Tim about as much as I wanted to find my mother, which is not at all. “Do you know anything about him?”

“I think he lives in Vermont now. I just don’t know where.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“A few years ago. But he doesn’t know where to find me anymore.”

Josh looks every bit his age right now. A fragile kid, abandoned by his father but refusing to lose hope. I don’t want to be the one to rip that from him, so I just nod. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. But for now, I need to let your mother know you’re okay. I have to call her.”

“Why?”

“If I don’t, this could be considered kidnapping.”

“Not if I’m here willingly,” he says.

“Even if you’re here willingly. You aren’t old enough to decide where you want to live, and right now, your mother has legal custody of you.”

He grows visibly irritated. He stabs at his breakfast with a scowl, but doesn’t take another bite.

I step away to call Sutton. I unblocked her number after she left my restaurant last night in case she needed to get in touch with me. I dial her number and put the phone to my ear. After a few rings, she finally answers with a very groggy hello.

“Hey. I found him.”

“Who is this?”

I briefly close my eyes while I wait for her to wake up and remember her son is missing. After a few quiet seconds, she goes, “Atlas?”

“Yeah. I found Josh.”

I can hear rustling from her end like she’s hopping out of bed. “Where has he been?”

I really don’t want to answer that. I know she’s his mother, but I feel like it’s none of her business where he’s been, which is an unusual opinion to have. “I’m not sure where he’s been, but he’s with me now. Listen… I was wondering if he could stay here for a while? Maybe give you a break?”

“You want him to stay there with you?” The way she puts the emphasis on that last word makes me wince. This is going to be harder than I thought. She’s the type of person who fights for the sake of fighting, no matter what outcome she really wants.

I could enroll him in school and make sure he attends,” I offer up. “Take the truancy heat off you.” It’s quiet on her end, like maybe she’s contemplating that.

“Such a martyr,” she mutters. “Bring him back. Now.” She ends the call.

I attempt to call her back three times, but she sends the calls to voice mail.

“That didn’t sound promising,” Josh says. He’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen. I’m not sure how much he heard on my end, but at least he couldn’t hear her end.

I slide my phone in my pocket. “She wants you back today. But I’ll call a lawyer tomorrow. Hell, I’ll call Child Protective Services if you want me to. There’s just not much I can do on a Sunday.”

Josh’s shoulders drop when I say that. “Will you at least give me your phone number?” He asks that like he’s scared I’m going to say no.

“Of course. I’m not going to abandon you now that I know you exist.”

He picks at a hole in his sleeve, avoiding eye contact with me when he says, “I wouldn’t blame you for being mad at me. I cost you a lot of money.”

“You did do that,” I say. “Those croutons were expensive.”

Josh laughs for the first time this morning. “Dude, those croutons were fucking delicious.”

I groan. “Don’t use that word.”

The Risemore Inn is clear on the other side of Boston. It takes us forty-five minutes with traffic to get there, and it’s not even a weekday. When we pull into the parking lot, Josh doesn’t immediately get out of the car. He just sits quietly in the passenger seat, staring at the building like it’s the last place he wants to be.

I wish I didn’t have to return him to his mother, but I put in another call to my lawyer friend this morning after talking with Sutton. He said if I want to go about this the right way without her having ammunition against me, the only thing I can do is return him. And then, if I want to take her to court, he said I need to get a lawyer and go through the process.

Anything done outside the process could be a mark against me.

Apparently, you can’t just kidnap your sibling, even if you know they’re in danger.

I wanted to explain all of this to Josh in more detail—to let him know I’m not just abandoning him with her—but he’s so hell-bent that he’s going to live with his dad, I’m not sure he even wants to live with me. And I’m not sure I’m prepared to raise a little brother, but as long as I’m alive, there’s no way I can willingly leave him in this woman’s permanent custody without at least trying.

Until I can figure out what to do next, I don’t want him to find himself in a situation where he has no food to eat, or no money to extend their hotel stay. I pull out my wallet and hand him a credit card.

“Can I trust you with this?”

Josh looks at the credit card in my hand, and his eyes grow a little wide. “I don’t know why you would. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to destroy your businesses.”

I push the credit card toward him. “Use it for basic necessities. Food, minutes for your phone.” We stopped on the way here and got him a prepaid phone so he could stay in touch with me. “Maybe some new clothes that fit.”

Josh reluctantly takes the credit card out of my hand. “I don’t even know how to use one of these.”

“You just swipe it. But don’t tell Sutton you have it.” I point at his phone. “Hide it between your case and your phone.”

He pops the case off his phone and puts the credit card inside of it. Then he says, “Thank you.” He puts his hand on the car door. “Are you coming to talk to her?”

I shake my head. “It’s probably best if I don’t. It’ll probably just make her angrier.”

Josh sighs, and then gets out of the car. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he finally closes the car door.

I feel like such a dick bringing him back here. But I have to do this the right way. If I don’t return him, she could file charges on me. And knowing her, she probably would. It’s best if I just leave him for today and then as soon as the week begins tomorrow, I can make phone calls and figure out what I can do to move him in with me.

I know if he stays here with her, he isn’t going to have a chance in hell. I lucked out finding Lily. She saved my life. But I’m not sure there’s enough luck in the world for both of us to be saved by a random stranger.

I’m all he has.

I remain in my car as Josh makes his way across the parking lot. He walks up the stairs and knocks on the second door from the end. He looks over his shoulder at me, so I wave right as the door swings open.

I can see the rage in Sutton’s eyes all the way from my position in the parking lot. She immediately begins yelling at him. And then she slaps him.

My hand is on the door handle before Josh even has a chance to react to the slap. Sutton’s hand is now gripping Josh’s arm as she yanks him into the hotel room. I’m several feet away from my car when I see him trip over the threshold and disappear into the room.

I’m taking the stairs two at a time, my heart racing. I reach the door before she even closes it. Josh is still trying to scramble to his feet, but she’s hovering over him, scolding him.

“I could have gone to jail, you little shit!”

She has no idea I’m behind her. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her away from Josh by picking her up and dropping her onto the mattress behind me. It happens so fast, she’s too shocked to react.

I help Josh to his feet. His phone is a few feet away on the floor, so I grab it and hand it to him, then urge him toward the door.

Sutton realizes what’s happening, and she jumps off the bed. She’s following us out the door. “Bring him back!” I feel her hands on me now. She’s yanking at my shirt, trying to get me to stop or move aside so she can get to Josh.

I urge him forward. “Go to the car.” He continues toward the stairs, and then I stop walking and spin around to face her. She sucks in a quick gasp after seeing the absolute fury in my eyes. Then she slaps her palms against my chest and shoves me.

“He’s my son!” she yells. “I’ll call the police!”

I release an exasperated laugh. I want to tell her to call the police. I want to scream at her. But most of all, I want to get Josh away from her. She’s not going to ruin his life on my watch.

I don’t even have the energy to say anything to her at all. This woman isn’t worth my words. I just walk away, leaving her screaming at me like old times.

Josh is already sitting in the front seat of my car when I make it back. I slam my door and grip my steering wheel with both hands before starting the car. I need to calm myself down before I get back on the road.

Josh seems unusually calm for what just happened. It makes me wonder if that’s an average interaction between them because he isn’t even breathing heavily. He’s not crying. He’s not cussing. He’s just watching me, and I realize how I react in this moment is quite possibly something he’ll absorb for a lifetime.

I slide my hands down the steering wheel and calmly exhale.

Josh’s cheek is red, and there’s a small gash on his forehead that’s bleeding. I retrieve a napkin from the glove box and hand it to him, then flip the visor down so he can see where to wipe.

“I saw her slap you, but where’d the cut come from?”

“I think I hit the TV stand.”

Slow and steady, Atlas. I put my car in reverse and back out of the parking lot. “Maybe we should swing by the emergency room and have them check out your cut. Make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“It’s okay. I can usually tell when it’s a concussion.”

He can usually tell? I clench my jaw as soon as he says that. I realize I have absolutely no idea what kind of hell this kid has already been through, and I was about to send him right back into the fire. “Better to be safe,” I say, but what I mean is, Better to get this documented in case we need proof of her abuse at a later date.