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MJ sighed. “I suppose I’ll never understand any of this.”

“What?”

“Romance, being in love, sex.”

Rio walked into the room and the conversation ended.

Saturday, December 15, 2018, St. Jude—“O?” Jackson said, unsure.

“Jackson,” I said, startled. He was the last person I expected to run into at the mall.

“How have you been, O?”

“OK,” I said, not trusting my voice.

The little boy standing beside him tugged at Jackson’s pant leg. “Who’s he?” he asked, glancing at me.

“He’s my friend, Oren. I knew him before you were born.”

The little boy looked perplexed, as children do at the concept of a parent having a life before they were born, that there was even existence before them. “Hello,” he said to me. “We have the same name.”

“We do?”

“This is my son,” Jackson said. “His name is Oren.”

Surprised, I shot him a questioning look.

“I insisted,” he said.

I cocked my head, studying him for a moment.

“It means ‘laurel,’ which symbolizes the resurrection of Christ.”

“Still the preacher’s kid.”

He smiled.

“How’s Kitt?” I asked.

“Kitt is Kitt. She moved to Vancouver. Took Frankenstein and left.”

“I’m sorry?” I said. It sounded like a question. Perhaps it was. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right, or more correctly what he’d meant.

“No, you’re not. And you don’t have to be. I have Oren.”

I turned my attention to young Oren, squatting so we were eye to eye. He was a beautiful boy; he looked like his father, I realized. “Nice to meet you, Oren.”

Looking up at Jackson, I asked, “How long had it been going on—your affair with Kitt, I mean?”

He glanced at little Oren. “It wasn’t an affair. It was one time. Once. She got pregnant.”

I saw Rio pulling up behind us. He insists on parking at the farthest corner of every parking lot. I hate that, so he always drops me off first and then goes to get the car and picks me up after. Oren looked at us curiously, and I saw a different ending to our story. “My ride’s here,” I said, standing up.

Rio leaned out the car window and called out, “Hey, babe, your chariot awaits.”

“Is that…Rio?” Jackson asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I had to learn to live without you.”