"Everything okay?"
Jo coughed and looked up from the brown dishwater to see Drew hovering by his side, his forehead creased with worry.
"Yeah," he said, not in the mood to have the conversation Drew clearly wanted to have.
There was silence for several minutes.
"You sure?"
Drew's voice was timid, and Jo felt guilt coil in his gut.
"You can ask me anything, Drew. You don't need to be scared."
"I wasn't," Drew quickly replied, but Jo saw the relief in his eyes and the guilt deepened. "I'm just...you don't seem okay."
When Jo didn't reply he continued.
"You're working too much, you're not sleeping, you barely eat... You don't smile anymore."
"I smile."
"Yeah. The fake smile you use when you want us to think everything is okay."
"Everything is okay."
"It's you and Rachel, isn't it?"
Jo gave Drew a glance and sighed.
"Drew..."
"Did you guys break up?"
"Not yet."
"Yet?"
Jo wiped his hands on the soaked towel and turned to face Drew.
"Remember when I said we were trying things out?"
Drew nodded.
"Well. We...tried things out. And I just don't think it's going to work."
"But you were happy. For the first time in, like...ever."
"It's more complicated than that, kiddo."
"I'm not a kid anymore, Jo. I can handle it. Just tell me what happened."
"Nothing happened, necessarily. I just don't think we're right for each other."
"So you come back from meeting her family with your face bruised up, won't talk about it, and then just happen to realize that you're 'not right for each other'?"
Drew's finger quotes irked Jo for some reason.
"Yep, you nailed it," he said, and it sounded short, even to him.
Turning back to the dishes to hide his annoyance, he heard Drew sniffle.
Jo had heard his construction coworkers talk about the dreaded teenage years, but he'd never thought Drew would be susceptible to the same mood swings as other kids. The past few weeks had proved him wrong. The almost-14-year-old could snap between angry, sad, and silent faster than Jo could sneeze. To make matters worse, Drew had been giving him judgmental looks every time he skipped dinner and made sidebar comments about the bags under Jo's eyes: all things that Jo couldn't really argue with. Jo knew he was worried, but the attitude was starting to get under his skin.
Taking a deep breath and rubbing the tired out of his eyes, he dried his hands once more and pulled Drew into a hug. Drew's arms hung limply at his sides.
"What? Too old for hugs now?" he said lightly, stifling another cough.
Drew glared up at him, but then wrapped his arms around Jo, laying his head on Jo's chest like he used to.
"I'm sorry I've been so out of it, kiddo. I need to have a conversation with Rachel that I don't want to have, and I've been avoiding it."
Drew pulled away and looked up at him with pleading eyes.
"Why do you have to? Why can't you guys just work it out?"
"It's complicated," he began, but Drew cut him off.
"You know that by age 13, most adolescents have advanced to post conventional reasoning. And I'm almost 14, so...."
Jo chuckled.
"They're teaching Kholberg in public schools? What is Chicago coming to..."
Seeing that Drew was resolutely undistracted, he sighed.
"There's nothing to work out, Drew. She'd be wasting her life with me, all her potential. She's innocent, eager, ready to go conquer the world. I'd just hold her back."
Drew was already shaking his head, but Jo continued before he could speak.
"And that's just part of it. She's... I don't even know the right word for it. Pure, maybe. Untouched. Like the world hasn't gotten to her yet. The more she's around me, the more she's exposed to it all. She belongs in a different dimension. One without people like me."
Drew's spoke past an obvious lump in his throat.
"You're a good person, too. Just because you were around shit doesn't mean you are shit."
"Don't say shit."
"I was around Dad, too. Does that mean I can't ever date a girl like Rachel?"
"No! Drew, no, that's not what I mean at all. But...there are things about me even you don't know. Things I'm not proud of. Things that make me... not normal. The rest of you have a chance at a better life, at a future. Me? I'm just happy to be where I'm at. Being with Rachel was overstepping my bounds."
"That doesn't make any sense."
Jo sighed.
"You're growing up way too fast, Drew. But you're still only 13. I think when you're older, you'll understand. Besides," he said with a smile, "if you'd told me fifteen years ago that I'd be raising six amazing boys and working a...normal job, I would've called you crazy. My life has already turned out much better than I deserve."
"But you're not happy. Not like when you're with her."
Jo took Drew's face in his hands, and then kissed the top of his head before pulling him in for another hug.
"This is how it has to be, Drew. Please don't make it any harder than it already is."
______
Rachel looked like one of the paintings on the side of the buses advertising the Chicago Art Institute. The hem of her blue sundress rippled in the breeze over the wooden edges of the park bench where she sat. Warm May sunlight filtered through the magnolia tree behind the bench, highlighting her blonde hair as it danced in a rain of white petals.
Jo wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her like John Wayne. He wanted to grab her hand and lead her off to their own private paradise. He wanted to stand and stare at her and nothing else until his bones crumbled.
Instead he steeled himself, reminded himself what a piece of shit he was, and made his solemn cortege to the bench.
"Rachel."
Her name came out of his strangled throat like a rale.
"I know what you want to say," she started without preamble. "But I don't want you to say it."
"We can't do this anymore."
"Jo, we can work it out. We just need to talk. To communicate. If you trust me, then talk to me. Tell me all those things you think you can't. I won't run."
He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.
"You're not making this easy."
"This doesn't have to happen at all."
"It does."
"Why?"
There were tears in her voice but her eyes were dry.
"I'm not the man you should be with."
"I don't get to decide who I should be with?"
He took her hands in his and looked into her green gaze.
"You deserve better than me."
She opened her mouth to argue, but he pushed on.
"Just listen. You make me want to be a better person, Rachel. You inspire me. But at the end of the day, I can't change what I've seen, what I've done. I'll never be able to look at you and not feel that I'm tainting you. That you'd be better off with someone else."
She said nothing, so he continued.
"You said we should try. And we did. But this...us...it isn't going to work. You have a life ahead of you. A family that deserves to have you in it. A beautiful heart and a desire to change the world. I won't let you throw that all away for me. I have nothing to give you."
"I never wanted anything."
"I know, Rachel. I know. But you should. Trust me, I'm no good. I never really expected to be in a relationship with anyone. Certainly not someone like you. But now I know that it's not an option for me: not with you or anyone else. I'm too... too... fucked up."
They sat staring at their intertwined hands, his calloused and scarred, hers smooth and soft.
"There's nothing I can say to change your mind, is there."
It was a statement.
He ran his thumbs over her hands tenderly, feeling an emptiness enter his soul.
"This was a dream, Rachel. We can't stay asleep forever."
She looked up into his eyes, then, with an expression of unadulterated love.
His breath stopped.
"Okay."
She looked down at his hand, brushing her fingertip over one of the many scars. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed it gently, then faced him again.
"I love you, Jo. I might as well tell you that because it's the truth. I love you. I'll always love you. But that's not what you need to hear, is it? You can't accept that because you can't imagine it. You can't believe that anyone could love you because you can't love yourself."
She reached up and ran her finger over the scar on his jaw.
"I can't promise to wait forever, because I don't know what the future holds. But if you ever find out that you can forgive yourself for whatever you think you've done...if you can give yourself some grace, even just a little bit, then maybe you can try to let me love you, too."
Her lips replaced her finger on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, savoring her sweet kiss.
And then, like a figment of his imagination, she was gone.