A Father's Name. Holly Jacobs
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keep trying until she said yes. He’d been open and engaging back then, and somewhere between then and now, he’d closed up tight.
Tucker forced herself to concentrate on payroll in front of her. She didn’t have time to ponder the mystery of Tyler Martinez. She went back to tallying hours and calculating checks, when the sound of voices pulled her from her math. She stared out her window, past the mulberry tree, and at the edge of the building she saw Tyler and some tall blond guy.
She couldn’t make out more than a murmuring of voices, but it was obvious it was a serious conversation. The stranger’s voice rose enough for Tucker to hear, “It’s done, Tyler. You can’t undo it. They know the truth.”
Tyler’s voice rose as well. Tucker could hear the utter frustration in it as he said, “A father’s name is the most important thing he can pass on to his son. Hell, you literally passed on your name. Jason Emerich Matthews, junior. Let that mean something to him.”
“I want it to. That’s why I’m doing this. I want my name to mean something. I want Jace to know his father made a mistake—it might have been for all the right reasons, but it was still wrong. I need him to know that I was willing to own up to it and pay the consequences.” The blond guy turned and walked around the corner of building, out of Tucker’s line of sight.
“Jason,” Tyler called and followed him.
What was that all about? Tucker wandered into the garage at the same time Tyler slammed the door and strode over to a workbench.
“What’s going on?” she asked Lou, jerking her head in Tyler’s direction.
The old man shrugged. “Some guy came by, asked for Tyler and they went outside. Whatever they were talking about, it obviously didn’t go well.”
Part of Tucker wanted to see if Tyler was okay, but she suspected he wouldn’t appreciate her concern.
Even from across the shop, she could see the tension practically radiating from him in the way he held himself—stiff and unapproachable. “Right. Holler if you need anything.”
Lou nodded and went back to a car on the lift. Tucker went back to payroll, anxious to finish so she could get back to the paintroom and determined not to think about the garage’s newest employee. He did his work well, and that’s all that should concern her.
She wondered why it wasn’t.
TWO DAYS LATER AFTER Jason’s visit to the garage, Tyler’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
In his old life, his phone rang nonstop. These days it was mostly silent. Old friends avoided him like the plague, as if doing a stint in County was contagious. As if they were afraid they’d develop a sudden yearning to wear orange jumpsuits. As if they’d never been his friend at all.
Well, that was fine with Tyler. He didn’t need them. He knew who his friends were—strike that—who his friend, singular, was. One was more than enough.
Jason was more than a friend, he was like a brother. Tyler knew he’d do anything for him, and vice versa.
His phone buzzed again, and since he was in the middle of eating lunch, he pulled it out and checked to see who it was.
Jason.
“Jason, what’s up?”
“Mr. Martinez?” a woman’s voice said.
“Yes?”
“This is Jessica Ahearn at St. Vincent’s. There’s been an accident…” The woman explained she was a nurse, that Jason was in an accident and Tyler’s number was under ICE in his cellphone.
“Ice?” Tyler asked, because it was easier to ask a question than to have the nurse tell him things he didn’t want to hear.
“In case of emergency—ICE. Mr. Matthews’s car hit an embankment. He’s in surgery now.”
Tyler had barely processed the thought of Jason being in an accident when he remembered the baby. “Jace?”
“He’s in surgery,” she repeated.
“No, Jace. His son. A baby. Was he in the car?”
“Only Mr. Matthews was transported here, sir.”
“I need the names of the guys in the ambulance, or the police, or…” Jace’s sitter. He knew her name. He couldn’t think of it. He knew her name.
“Pam.”
“Pam?” the woman repeated.
“That’s the babysitter’s name. I’m going to call her. Could you check with the ambulance crew and call me back. I’m on my way.”
“Sure, I’ll do that, Mr. Martinez.”
“I’m in Whedon. I’ll be at the hospital in under a half hour.” Tyler had always thought the half hour distance between Erie and Whedon wasn’t bad, but suddenly it was too far. He needed to be there now.
“Mr. Martinez, he’ll be in surgery for hours. If I find out anything about the baby, I’ll call right away.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ahearn.”
Tyler hurried over to his coworker. “Lou, I need to leave early. It’s a family emergency. I’ll make up the hours, or you can dock my pay, or hell, fire me if you have to. I’ve got to go.”
The old guy had been decent to Tyler, so had everyone else at the garage, so it came as no surprise when he said, “Don’t talk crazy, kid. You go do what you have to. Can I do anything to help?”
“No. I’ll handle it. But I’m not sure when I’ll be back in.”
“Go do what you have to,” Lou repeated. “We’ll manage.”
Tyler ran to his car and tried to think as he headed toward the interstate. What the hell was Pam’s last name? He’d met the woman the few times he’d picked up the baby for Jason and Mellie before he’d gone to County.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember her last name. Why hadn’t he ever thought to get her name and number from Jason?
He decided to drive to her house and see if Jace was there, then he’d go to the hospital.
Shit, he had to call Jason’s mom and dad, too. They’d moved to Florida when they retired.
Heartsick, he called their number as he barreled down I-79 toward Erie and told them what little he knew. “I’ll call as soon as I talk to the doctors,” he promised.
“I’m making arrangements for the earliest flight I can get,” Jason’s father promised.
Neither of them asked the question that was hanging around like a white elephant in the room. What if Jace had been in the car with his father?
Tyler drove faster than he should have, but hopefully not fast enough to attract police attention. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over by the cops and questioned. He was still on parole, and while he didn’t think a speeding violation would send him back to jail, he wasn’t sure and he couldn’t afford to take the chance. He had to be there for Jason.
He drove slowly up the big hill and into the babysitter’s drive, praying that Jace was there. He felt sick to his stomach as he knocked on the door. Pam opened the door, Jace on her hip.
“I’m not sure you remember me—” he started.
She interrupted. “I definitely remember you, Mr. Martinez.” Her words were said with that certain tone that let him know exactly how she felt about criminals darkening her doorstep.
“Jason was in an accident and I didn’t have your number and was praying Jace was here.” He held his hand out to the baby. Pam hesitated a moment, then handed him over.
Tyler inhaled the scent of clean baby and had the first bit of relief he’d felt since the phone call from