Don't Go L.J. Breedlove (books to read fiction TXT) 📖

brick with a huge cross hung above its front doors. It wasn’t the first time Cage had invited them all out to his parents for dinner. Ryan knew Cage had been a rebellious teen, but now that he no longer lived at home, the tensions seemed to have eased.

For whatever reason, the Washington home had always been open to Cage’s friends. He’d been here for Christmas a couple of times, and wasn’t that a mad house? The three sons; the oldest, Gregory, had his own family now. Then anyone in the church who lacked a place to go, as well as all of the strays their sons brought home. He’d been one of those strays, and he had been grateful for the glimpse of what a functional family looked like.

I have a son, Ryan thought.

He’d seen Gregory and his wife Bianica with their son John Lewis — who must be about Rafael’s age, Ryan realized. Gregory worked at EWN too, as ad manager, and he was as conservative as Cage and Corey were liberal. But if he could name his son John Lewis, Ryan figured there was hope for the man. Even if he was a stuffed shirt, now. A very expensive shirt, to be sure. Ad staff at Eyewitness News were paid commission and made very good money.

Rev. Washington had the door open before anyone had a chance to knock. “Come in, come in,” he said. “Emily, welcome. Ryan, who is this charmer?”

“This is Rafael Matthews Valdez,” he said, even though he knew Cage had probably already told him that. But maybe if he repeated enough times it would become real.

He had a son.

Maybe the surprise was that he didn’t have more children, although he was pretty careful about safe sex. He had a nightmarish vision of a line forming at the newsroom of women holding a child, waiting to introduce him. He shook his head slightly.

“Supper is ready,” Mrs. Washington called out. “Please. Find your seats at the table.”

Someone found a highchair for Rafael. He put him in it and took the chair next to it. He’d seen how this worked at the holiday meals here. Mrs. Washington sat down at the end of the table next to Rafael.

“Let us pray,” Rev. Washington said. And everyone obligingly bowed their heads. It was a heartfelt prayer, Ryan thought, that raised the concerns they were about to discuss. Rev. Washington always prayed as if he was talking to someone he knew and knew well.

Mrs. Washington dished up a bit of easy-to-eat food for Rafael, and Ryan smiled his thanks. He didn’t know any of this shit, he thought with a bit of panic. Most parents got nine months to prepare!

He had a son.

“Let’s start with J.J.,” Rev. Washington said, smiling at Ryan. “We’ve had two days to get used to that surprise.”

Ryan laughed. “Was just thinking most parents get nine-months’ notice,” he admitted. And everyone laughed with him.

“OK, J.J.,” Cage said. “I talked to him this morning. He’s...,” he hesitated, looking for the right word, “listless, I guess. He’s not bouncing back. I don’t even think he’s relieved to be alive, or that he thinks he’s been spared the results of a bad, impulsive decision. Maybe he’s just shell-shocked, but I think he’s still in danger of trying again.”

Cage looked at Sarah. “You talked to him?”

She nodded. “On the phone. And I agree with Cage. But he is grateful to be coming here, though, so that’s good. You do not need a resentful teenager to raise.”

“Although Lord knows, we’ve done it before,” Mrs. Washington said, looking at her son and rolling her eyes.

“Mama!” Cage protested, but he didn’t deny it.

“Also? He talked animatedly about a visit from Carroll,” Sarah said. “That’s the first animation I’ve heard from him since that night.”

Huh, Ryan thought, as he helped himself to more mashed potatoes. Carroll was an odd choice of friend for a young guy raised in a conservative home in West Linn. Carroll, used the pronoun they, was an outstanding independent journalist, and had been targeted by police-adjacent thugs. But Carroll was different. Really different, even by his standards, and Ryan prized his collection of eclectic friends.

“Let’s keep a discreet suicide watch,” Rev. Washington summarized. “What about classes? Does he want to continue them? Should he? What about Eyewitness News?”

Ryan and Cage looked at each other. Ryan shrugged. “I’m fine with him coming back to EWN if you are,” Ryan told Cage. “He’s in your department.”

“Do we know if he even wants to?” Emily asked.

“He wanted to be a videographer more than anything,” Cage said. “I’ve never seen anyone so hungry for it.”

“Since you,” Ryan interjected. “I remember the first story you did.”

Everyone smiled at that, including Cage’s parents. “Yes, Lord,” the Rev. Washington said. “He must have showed us that clip a dozen times.”

“On a professor who was studying the role of play in ground squirrel society,” Cage said, laughing at himself. “But yeah, J.J. has that same excitement. But he’s been doing stories on the protests. And I don’t think we can have him do those anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous for all of you,” Sarah said. “Or do you have specific concerns?”

Cage considered that a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he admitted. “You need to keep a level head down there, and I don’t think he’s got that right now. Would he take risks he shouldn’t? Would he confront his father, for instance? Or would there be some altercation with his father attacking or even just yelling at J.J.? So, no I don’t think he can cover the protests.”

Everyone nodded, considering what that would mean to J.J. Finally, Emily said, “I’m not sure that’s a problem. I had him do some other stuff, and he was actually happy to do them. If the assignments come from me, he probably won’t feel like he has something to prove as he would if they came from Cage.”

“OK, so provisionally, he’s welcome back at Eyewitness News,” Mrs. Washington said. She gave