Six

The drive is a little over three hours and when we get there it's dark out. Dad brought me here once. It was the place where he told me he met Mom. It was one of the things he did for me when he was sober. I sit at the spot where he said he spotted Mom crying. I don't remember what Mom looked like. I was three when she was killed, but I can imagine what my dad looked like trying to console her. Giant intimidating man, nervous at the fact that she was crying, trying to flirt to make her feel better. I'd witnessed his awkwardness several times when he was trying to be sweet. It's where I get my awkwardness from. Jay gets his assertiveness from our Mom. Or so dad would accuse him of. His go-to was you're just like your mother, Jaykob when Jay would get into trouble. 

"When did he bring you here?" Jay asks sitting next to me. 

"I was eleven," I say. "He came here a lot. I used to follow him and one day he just offered," 

"How did you figure it out?" h