Read Online Never Too Late by Robyn Carr - Free Book Online Page B

Healing is like a full-time job. And the second I’m better, I have to think about our own house, a good job and getting on with my life. My life with you.”
    â€œSometimes I just can’t take it,” he said.
    â€œTake what?” He shook his head in misery, looking down. “What, Jason?”
    He looked up and a tear spilled over. Even though he was at that ragged and vulnerable age, seeing him cry was rare. “He’s like his dad was, right?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess so.” She wasn’t sure of the details of Roger’s family. He never bitched about his father. His mother, a widow for some timenow, complained about what her life had been like, married to a man who was greedy and unfaithful and left her virtually penniless, but Roger’s father had been dead for a long time and Roger took good care of his mother. Clare had met Roger’s father, but couldn’t say she knew him.
    Just when you think your kid isn’t paying attention. Apparently Jason had heard everything that spilled out of his grandmother’s mouth.
    â€œSo? What if I’m like him? ”
    â€œOh, Jason.”
    â€œWell? I look like him!”
    True. When he filled out, gained some muscle, survived the pimples, he would be as handsome as his father. “It could be worse, Jason. You could be like me.”
    â€œThat’d be okay!”
    â€œOh yeah?” she laughed. “Wishy-washy, do anything to please, passive-aggressive?”
    â€œPassive what?” he asked, brushing impatiently at a tear.
    â€œPassive-aggressive. I punish people by being late, by not speaking. Instead of being direct.” Not giving sex, being coolly cooperative, acting like I’m back in the marriage when I’m really just counting the days or weeks or months ’til the next confrontation.
    â€œYou’re not that way.”
    She was that way with Roger, and she knew it. That’s why it was better for everyone if that cycle finally came to an end. “Or,” she said to her son, “you could be like yourself. You could be exactly the kind of man you want to be.”
    â€œDidn’t he see his own dad being a jerk to his mother and want to be better?”
    â€œCan’t answer that,” she shrugged. “I don’t know if he saw it, don’t know if he wanted to be different.”
    â€œSo what if you can’t help it? What if I grow up to be a crappy husband?”
    â€œJason, if you don’t want to be like that, you won’t. Everyone has a choice about how they act.”
    â€œYou think that?”
    â€œI know that. Look, you can be mad, you can hate him if you want, but at the end of the day, you are who you want to be. You’re in charge of your own life. Period. You don’t have to waste one second worrying that you’ll be anything but what you want to be. I swear.”
    Looking down into his lap, he nodded weakly.
    She lifted his chin and looked into his eyes. “Jason, you should dump all this rage and fear of being a bad husband on your counselor. He’s getting eighty bucks an hour—he went to school forever to learn how to help people deal with stuff like this. He might be able to help you move on, you know.”
    â€œYeah, well, you’re wasting your money as far as I’m concerned.”
    She smiled conspiratorially. “It’s your dad’s money. Knock yourself out.”
    Â 
    Three weeks in the hospital, six weeks at George’s, at least another two before Roger, who was not cooperating quickly by finding his own place, but Clare was beginning to think that someday—within a few weeks—she would be living a life without crutches and pain meds. Right now she was moving around with all the speed of bureaucracy. But moving around, at least.
    During the two-and-a-half months since the accident, Sam Jankowski had called a few times, askinghow she was feeling,