“I also told him that we want to be his family.” My eyes go to Bob.
He lifts his brows. “And what was his response?”
“He said nothing. That was when he went to do his homework.” I say quietly, “Maybe I pushed it a little too far too soon?”
Bob lifts his lips at the corners. “You’ve never been one for patience, Jake.”
Can’t argue with that.
I can feel Tiffany’s eyes on me. When I look at her, I see concern there.
“Look, I don’t know what exactly you want from us. If it’s money to secure Storm’s future, then that’s a given. Anything he needs, he can have.”
“Jonny’s money,” Bob says. “I’m going to put it into a trust for Storm.”
Bob didn’t discuss that with me, but I’m not surprised.
“He doesn’t need all that money,” she tells him.
“I’m an old man. I’m the one who doesn’t need that money,” Bob counters.
“Look”—she presses her hands to her lap—“we just need to lay this out there. I know talking about death makes people uncomfortable, but it’s a fact of life. We’re all going to die someday. Unfortunately, my day is coming sooner than I wanted. I wanted to see Storm grow and have his own children, but that’s not going to happen.”
Her eyes are glazing with sadness, and I feel a tug in my gut.
Bob reaches over and takes ahold of her hand. She gratefully smiles at him.
“I want Storm to be financially secure, of course I do. And I knew I was taking a risk in finding out if he was Jonny’s, with him no longer being alive, and I knew either way, no matter the outcome, if he was Jake or Jonny’s, that would give Storm financial security. But money aside…more than anything, I want him to have a family. Marie has offered to take him, and that would be good because he knows her…but—” She bites her lip. “I know he looks like Jonny…but a big part of me hoped…I’m sorry—” Her tear-filled eyes go to Bob. “But I wanted Storm to be Jake’s son so that he wouldn’t be alone when I die.”
Fuck.
That punches a crater-sized hole in my chest.
“I don’t want him to be alone when I’m gone. I don’t want him to be an orphan. I want him to have a family.”
“He has a family,” Bob firmly tells her.
“He has us,” I say. “And Tom and Denny. All of us—we’re his family.” I push my hand through my hair, and I decide to just go for broke. Like Bob said, patience really isn’t my thing. “Look…” I choose not to look at Bob when I say this, instead just focusing on Tiffany. “Bob and I have spoken, and we both have agreed. If you do, too, then…we want Storm and you to come to live in LA. Bob is moving in with my family and me, and I’ll set you up with whatever you need. You can live out your time there, and it will give Storm time to get to know us, help him settle. Then, when the time comes”—when you’re gone—“Storm will move in with us—my family and me.”
Her eyes widen, tears glazing them. “How does your wife feel about this?”
“Trust me, if I didn’t have her backing, I wouldn’t have said these things right now.”
“You want to take Storm on as your own, have him live with you? Why?”
I’m surprised she even has to ask. “He’s Jonny’s flesh and blood. That makes him mine—ours.” I flicker a glance at Bob, who gives me a subtle nod of encouragement. “Jonny would have done the same for me, if I weren’t here. He would have taken care of my kid. I want to take care of his.”
Then, she bursts into tears, and I honestly don’t know what to do.
I flick a panicked glance at Bob.
“Here, don’t cry.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to her.
She dries her face. “I’m sorry.” She sniffles. “I just…thank you.” She meets my eyes and then Bob’s. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is to know that you want to do this for Storm.”
“And you, too.” Bob pats her hand.
“But…how will this work? Of course I want to take you up on this offer—for Storm—but Marie…she’s my friend. She’s been my family for so long. I don’t want to leave her.”
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “We’ll figure things out with Marie.”
“And Storm…moving him from everything he knows is going to be hard on him.”
“Things are already hard on him.” At the wince on her face, I say, “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but we need to be realistic here, and being realistic means, there will be changes, changes that will affect him. But if we implement those changes now”—I put the emphasis on now because I really don’t want to say, While you are still alive to help him—“it will help to make this transition as easy as it can possibly be for Storm.”
“That’s all I care about,” Tiffany says, looking me in the eyes, “that Storm is okay.”
I wrap my arms around my chest. “He will be okay. I don’t have all the fine details worked out. And I don’t know exactly how this will all work, but it will work, Tiffany. Storm will be okay,” I promise.
Tiffany said she would call after she’d spoken with Storm about moving to LA. I didn’t hear from her last night after we’d left her apartment. I assume, if she had talked to him then, it might have been too late to call me.