Change of Hart(74)

It took me thirty-five minutes to get there, door-to-door.

From the look on the receptionist’s face as I signed in, they were expecting me. When the principal, Mrs. Teske, came to escort me into the building, I could tell they weren’t nearly as happy to see me as they were last time I was here. But I guess they wouldn’t be since I was here to take a rabble-rouser off their hands.

She led me through the office and around the corner to a small hallway with an “Employees Only” placard on the wall. We passed a door on the left before she led me through the second door into what I assumed was her office. On the right was a circular table and a few chairs.

And there was Jaxon sitting in one of those chairs.

“Have a seat, Mr. Hart,” Mrs. Teske said. I grabbed the chair next to Jaxon and pulled it around so I was sitting in front of him.

“Thanks,” I said to Mrs. Teske and then turned my attention to Jaxon. “Hey Jax.”

“Hi,” he mumbled, arms crossed over his chest, feet dangling off the chair. “Where’s my mom.”

He didn’t say it like a question. It was more of a statement. A statement that meant whatever was going on made him really angry and I wasn’t the person he wanted to see right now.

“She’s at work, buddy,” I said gently, wishing he would make eye contact with me. “And so’s your Pee-paw. She called and asked if I would come pick you up since I was finished with practice for the day. Is that ok with you?”

He paused briefly before he nodded once.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” I asked, leaning my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands in front of me.

“No,” he mumbled into his chest. His brows were furrowed and he wouldn’t look up at me. I’d never seen Jaxon like this before. And frankly, I wasn’t sure how to handle his defiance. Fortunately, Mrs. Teske dealt with kids all the time and had no problem jumping in.

“Well, Mr. Hart, Jaxon and another student got in a fight during lunch,” she said, pausing to give Jaxon a chance to say something. He didn’t.

“Is that true, Jaxon?” I knew the answer, but I wanted him to tell me what was going on. When he didn’t respond, Mrs. Teske kept on with her version of the story.

“From what the other little boy says, he was just sitting there eating lunch when Jaxon attacked him for no reason.”

Jaxon whipped his head up in disbelief. “Nuh uh! That meany buttholehead Vincent Parker said Jason was my mom’s boyfriend!”

I cocked my head and looked at Mrs. Teske, not quite sure how to proceed.

“Ok, Jax,” she said, putting a hand gently on his arm. “I know you’re angry, but we need to not call people names, ok?”

He slumped back down in his chair in defeat.

“Jax,” I said, clearing my throat. “Buddy, I am your mom’s boyfriend. We talked about this the other day. You said you were ok with it. I’m not understanding what changed.”

We sat silently, waiting for him to tell us more, but he didn’t.

“Mr. Hart,” Mrs. Teske said gently, “I’m not sure what happened between the boys. I suspect there’s more going on than what Jaxon will tell us. But he knocked the other boy’s front tooth out. He’s on the way to the dentist now.”

I looked back over at Jaxon, still sitting with his arms over his chest.

“Jax,” I said, “I don’t care what this kid said about your mom and me. You can’t go around punching people when they do it. Words are just words, buddy. And people are gonna say mean things.”

“But he said you and mom were gonna . . . ,” he started and then stopped abruptly. That’s when the tears started.

“Me and your mom were gonna what, buddy?”

He sniffled and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. “He said you and mom were gonna get married and that you would be my dad from now on. And my other dad wouldn’t be my dad anymore.” He looked up at me with the saddest look I’d ever seen on his face. “He said I’d have to take down all my pictures of my dad and . . . and . . . I don’t want my other dad to not be my dad anymore. I love him and I don’t want you to make him not be my dad anymore.”

My heart broke as I saw the tears running down his face. That feeling, that horrible feeling of missing a parent and desperately wanting him to come back . . . I had never forgotten that feeling. It was like being punched in the gut, run over by a car and having your insides ripped out, all at the same time. Multiplied by a million. It was awful. It was grief. Here I was, watching this boy that I loved so deeply feeling what I had felt all those years ago. And there wasn’t anything I could do to make it better for him.