“Mama’s mad at you.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t come home for Christmas.”
“I’m sure y’all survived.”
“You know how she is. Said you were thinking about adopting, getting pretty serious about that little boy.”
“Yeah,” I said. Then I fell silent and said nothing further, glancing at Jackson to make sure he noticed. He lifted one eyebrow ever so slightly.
“Jack, how’s your mom and them?” Bill asked.
“They’re doing fine,” Jackson said.
“Well, there you go. I’m parked just outside in the lot.”
Jackson sat scrunched up in the back of the cab on the two-hour drive home from Memphis to Tupelo. He made a gentle point of putting in his ear buds and listening to Pandora while simultaneously tuning us out.
“Well, tell me about him,” Bill said when the silence had grown. “How was the visitation?”
“He was nice,” I allowed.
“Nice?”
“He has a lot of problems, but he was a sweet little kid.”
“So you’re going to adopt him?”