“Anyway, is Dana still working for the San Francisco Chronicle?”
In the few days he’d already spent with Dalton, he hadn’t really asked about Dana in Colorado, as it just wasn’t his way to pry. He knew that their relationship together was uncharted territory and he was well aware of their shaky history. Still, he was smart and waited until the opportunity presented before asking. Maybe that’s why he liked Dalton. He only dug deep when someone gave him a shovel; otherwise he respected their privacy and just accepted a person, as they were, flaws and all.
Jack tossed his napkin on his plate. “No, actually she left that job not long after the incident in San Francisco. Even though I’ve told her she doesn’t need to work, she decided to do some freelance writing on the side… for some blog.”
“Some blog?”
“Yeah,” he replied, sounding almost uninterested. “In fact she’s probably on the road more than I am.”
“Really? Isn’t that a turn of events. So… what have you been doing to keep busy? I can’t exactly see you playing second fiddle, or has the great Jack Winchester finally been domesticated?”
They both laughed and Dalton offered him more coffee.
“To tell you the truth, for the first eight months I did nothing. We spent a lot of time just reconnecting, enjoying the peace and quiet. Dana would read. I would work on the property. It was good and I wish it could have stayed that way.”
Dalton raised a hand to his forehead. “Oh no, you had a falling-out, didn’t you?”
“No.” Jack laughed. “She wanted to return to work. To keep her mind occupied. She started writing, and traveling.”
He nodded and pursed his lips for a second. “So it’s a travel blog?”
“I assume,” he said sipping his coffee.
“You assume? You didn’t ask her or you weren’t interested?”
He snorted. “Of course I’m interested. She says it’s related to travel.” He shrugged.
“So what about you?”
“Ah, I chose to help around the town. You know, do small odd jobs for people.”
“Odd jobs?”
“Yeah.”
Dalton raised an eyebrow.
Jack smirked. “Not those kinds. No, you know… handyman types of jobs. Fixing gutters, clearing yards.”
“So that’s what a vigilante does when they retire?”
They both laughed hard and for a moment they sat in the comfortable silence. All that could be heard was the sound of ticking coming from a grandfather clock farther down the hallway.
“Look, it got me out of the house. It feels good to use my hands for something that actually survives. And fixing things just comes…”
“Natural?” Dalton asked. “It’s good. Real good, Jack. You’ve always had a way of fixing people’s problems.” He took a sip of his coffee then frowned. “But still, a handyman? Wow, I would have never figured you for that.”
“It’s honest work.”
“That it is. Does it pay well?”
“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t charged anyone.”
Dalton nearly spit out his coffee. “That last job must have paid well or you’ve lost your marbles.”
They both laughed.
“Well, Jack, I’m just glad you’ve found some peace. It doesn’t matter what or where it is. I’m happy for you.”
“I appreciate that.” He finished his drink and set the cup down. “Look, I should go pack,” Jack said, rising from the table. “Tell Karen I appreciated her having me.”
“I will do.”
Jack stopped at the doorway and looked back tapping the frame ever so slightly. “Dalton, it’s been good seeing you again.”
“Likewise. You’re always welcome, Jack. You know that.”
Jack headed off to get ready for his flight, which left later that morning. It was a good five hours back with all the stops, and by the time he arrived it would be the middle of the afternoon.
After showering, getting dressed and gathering his things, he zipped up the bag and sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his wallet. He slipped out the wrinkled letter from Eddie and read it again.
Jack,
If you’re reading this now, I’m no longer here. I’ve written this letter so many times. I’ve tried to mail it even more times.
It’s funny the path we take in life. The older I get the more I realize that so much of what we do is meaningless. When we are young, we throw ourselves into all manner of things. We think we are invincible and that nothing will touch us. Perhaps that’s why I joined the military. Maybe that’s why many others do. There is a driving need to feel a sense of purpose, direction, and meaning in our lives. And what better way than to align ourselves with a group who say they are trying to change the world. To make it a better place. But truth is, it’s all the same. There is no good or bad side. Each of us makes choices that we justify as being right.
Every side thinks they are good. The rest is just hearsay.
When I met your mother, she was the most beautiful person I had laid eyes on. She had a warm heart. Somehow she could see into my core. She saw the pain I hid. The mask that I wore to keep people at a distance.
When I joined the military, I knew things between us wouldn’t stay the same. I blame myself in many ways for the breakdown of our relationship. And I would like to say your mother was better off without me in her life. But that wouldn’t be true. I never imagined what would happen to her, or either of you.
After a few months in the service for Uncle Sam, I learned your mother was pregnant with you. She told me you were my son, but I didn’t accept it. By the time I got out, she had already been living for years with the one you believed to be your father. From what I know, he is the father of Milly, but you are my son. I’ve come to believe that.
Jack, what I did that night when
