“Oh, sweetheart.”
Her voice cracked.
“Jeremy still has it?”
“Yes.”
“His father finished that airplane.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“After Jeremy stopped knocking, he finished it himself. He put it back in the box with Jeremy’s childhood things.”
“But Jeremy thinks it’s unfinished.”
“He never took it out of the towel his father wrapped it in. When he moved out, he took the whole box without opening it.”
I remembered the towel.
The way Jeremy wouldn’t let anyone touch it.
“His father asked about him every Saturday,” she said.
“Even after Jeremy stopped knocking.”
Her voice trembled.
“After the accident, he fell into a terrible depression. He was ashamed of needing help. He thought Jeremy would be better off without him.”
My eyes filled.
“And when Jeremy stopped coming, he thought his son didn’t want him anymore.”
“Did you tell Jeremy?”
“I told him his father loved him. Jeremy said I was making excuses. After his father died, he wouldn’t talk about those years.”
