Page 77 of Drive
Out of the corner of his eye, Jacques saw her plant her bare feet on the seat and rest her chin on her knees. He gave himself permission to take in the sight of her for a full second before putting his eyes back on theroad.
And it was worth it. But even though her pose was unbelievably cute, he could see she was stillhesitant.
“Nothing’s off limits,” he said, giving herpermission.
He heard her draw a fortifying breath beside him. “Do you ever talk to yourdad?”
Ahh. So, that’s what this isabout.
“Yeah, sure,” he told her. “Not as much now as when he first wentin.”
“Do you… do you mind me asking?” Her voice had gone small, and Jacques couldn’t resist touching her then. He patted a hand on her ankle. To reassure her, he toldhimself.
“No, I don’tmind.”
The skin of her ankle was cool, soft. Incredibly smooth. And quickly a memory since he did not let his touchlinger.
“So… why don’t you talk to him as much as you used to?” Her voice was still soft, but he could hear the urgency behind it, her need toknow.
Jacques drew in a breath and brought his mind back to that time. “I guess I needed him a lot more then,” he said. “In the beginning, it was really hard. For me. For him. We had to adjust to our new lives. I needed that grounding, so he’d call just about everyday.”
Beside him, Rainey nodded rapidly as if she completelyunderstood.
“And then I got a little older and better understood what he’d done, and for a long time, I was just angry,” he said, letting himself meet her eyes for a moment. The color, green glass and lightning, was so vivid, her eyes wide as she listened. “So, some days, I needed to yell at him. Some days I needed to hang up on him. And others, I wouldn’t come to the phone atall.”
“Youwereangry? Does that mean you’re notanymore?”
Jacques let a grim chuckle escape. “I think I’ll always be angry about what he did to his life. To our lives,” he said, shaking his head. “But that anger has cooled over theyears.”
Rainey crossed her arms on top of her knees and resettled herchin.
“Do you ever go to visit him inAngola?”
Jacques nodded. “For a while I didn’t. The high school years were pretty rough as you might imagine,” he admitted, wincing at the memory. “I didn’t want to claim him most days. But Pal and I go see him every fewmonths.”
They’d gone, in fact, the day before Easter, and Jacques wasn’t looking forward to the next time. Not because he had anything against seeing his dad, but because the drive was almost three hours one way, and it took a lot out of Pal. But with no hope for parole, they’d be making the trip for the next sixyears.
Jacques just hoped Pal would last that long. A lot longer, really. Pal never said it outright, but Jacques sensed he was waiting for the day when he could spend the kind of time with Xand that they got to spend together. He didn’t give it much thought, but after twenty years behind bars, Pal’s home was the only one his father had to returnto.
And as far as Jacques was concerned, that was just fine. Xand owed Pal for taking over as a father figure when he couldn’t raise his own son. Jacques wouldn’t shy away from taking care of his grandfather as the years advanced, but he hoped Xand planned to do thesame.
“What’s your dad like?” Rainey’s question pulled him away from his thoughts about the future, and he smiled at her ingratitude.
“Well, he’s not the same man he was when he went in,” Jacques offered. “And, yet, he’s stillhim.”
“What do youmean?”
“He’s had a long time to think about what he did and who he hurt.” Jacques shook his head. “He killed two people. Two sisters in their thirties who’d just gone the movies together. My father had never hurt anyone before that, and even in the pen, I doubt he’s hurt anyonesince.”
Jacques realized as he spoke that he’d never shared this withanyone.
“I mean, in prison, you have to be able to take care of yourself… My dad’s big. Bigger than me, and when he went in, he got bigger still, and I think it’s just because he didn’t want to have to hurt anyone again,” he said, picturing his father, all muscle, salt-and-pepper goatee, looking like someone who just broke out of hell, but in reality, he probably wouldn’t squash a spider. “Inside, he started reading all these books on mindfulness and meditation. I think that made him a better person. If there’s such a thing as a Cajun Buddhist, Xand Gilchrist isit.”
This made Rainey laugh as he’d hoped itwould.
“Has he ever heard youplay?”
A rueful grin claimed his mouth. “Yeah, I send him videos. The last one was from the Festivalshow.”
