She went quiet.
I told her what Jeremy had said.
Then I mentioned the airplane.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Her voice cracked.
“Jeremy still has it?”
“Yes.”
“His father finished that airplane.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“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.”
