Hopper snickers around his killing stick. "'Course he is. He's got a kid. Lowen Odette's kid at that. You jumped on a plane ride with no returning ticket, kid."
It always comes back to Lowen Odette.
Jen's jaw clenches. Her arms tighten around herself as she pushes off Steve's car. "Is there a reason you showed up or are you going to make me feel like shit some more."
His eyes reach hers and he huffs. "Was just checkin' in, Jen."
Her fists are balls against her ribs. "Yeah, well I'm fine, Hop. Always have been. I don't need a babysitter now."
Maybe it's a little pathetic, but she stomps back inside Steve's house like a toddler on the brisk of a tantrum. Hopper watches with a frown and scoff, he stubs out his cigarette with a big boot. He pulls out of the lot quicker than light.
Jen is right though, she does not need a babysitter.
She hadn't needed one when her mother died, she didn't need one now because Alex of all people was dead. Hopper hadn't been ready to babysit when her mother died, why was he ready to do it now.
Jen did not need it.
Steve wants to call it in.
He'd climb down the stairs, little girl on his hip as Jen was coming back into his front door—looking like she was ready to drop from the cold. Now, everyone's at the table. Jen's wrapped in a blanket Steve had silently offered up after he'd gotten Violet in her high chair. He'd seen the tail end of Jim Hopper's crap cop car.
Jen forks around eggs and bacon, her toast has two chunks missing and that's it. Steve's plate is nearly empty because he hadn't put much on it to begin with. Violet's the only one having a blast with her breakfast of mashed bananas.
Steve stares at a cup of black coffee. "What'd he say?"
Jen's fork stops making that god awful scratching sound as her gaze slowly moves up to look at Steve. Their eyes meet in an instance. "What?" Steve shrugs at her, "Hopper. Saw the back end of his car as he peeled.." Jen stares for a moment at the boy. Steve can see her mind working overtime in her eyes. She shifts in her chair, blanket sliding off one shoulder. "He was just checking in," the girl looks down at her food. "Said dumb shit as per usual. It's fine." Her eyes flicker back up to him and she pushes out a gentle smile.
"Alright."
Jen isn't calling it in, Steve knows it without ever asking.
There's a horrible feeling in Steve's gut as he stands before his locker in the boys locker room. He's staring down at his folded jeans, feeling too ridiculous in his gym uniform. It's like he's been walking on a waterbed since this morning.
He had watched Jen Leadison close herself off this morning and it freaked him the fuck out. Being shoved away like that with nothing malicious thrown at his face was odd. He's away being pushed away with such an angry force. And this morning it was like Jen had taken two steps back and Steve suddenly couldn't reach her no matter how close he got.
Somewhere far down the line of lockers to his right is Billy Hargrove with Tommy H. and a few other basketball boys. Steve feels a sense of nausea. He knows he said some pretty fucked things to Carol last November. Tommy hadn't like that. But Steve can't understand how quick they were able to move on from him? Did he not mean that much time him like they meant to him?
25: Call It In
Start from the beginning
