Phil Martin/Jared’s Dad Character Analysis

Nana Sophia kissed him. “And I love you and I would never hurt you. But if you weren’t Philip’s and your momma tried to pass you off as his, I’d have slit her throat and left her in a ditch to die like a dog.”

Jared bumped off a couple of trees as he sped down, laughing his ass off as Kelsey tumbled past him. He was declared the loser, and had to spin a plastic cocoon around Blake, who kangaroo-hopped over to Kelsey and jumped up to kick him.

Afterwards, Jared took the bus back to their neighbourhood and helped Mrs. Jaks shovel the snow out of her driveway while Mr. Jaks searched the house for snow tires for the car they’d sold. They had venison pie for supper. She asked him if he could watch Mr. Jaks on Wednesday while she went to a doctor’s appointment. She promised to make his favourite, spaghetti with moose meatballs.

She was going to be so pissed if—when—she found out he was helping out his dad. Jared didn’t want to live with his dad. He wasn’t picking sides. God, no. He just didn’t want his dad to be homeless. He didn’t want to worry about her reaction, but it wiggled around the back of his mind like a melody that you hummed without thinking.

The money is for YOU, she wrote. I mean it.
Destiny’s having her baby soon.
My pretty, pretty enabler. Repeat after me: I’m not responsible for the crappy decisions of the grown-ups in my life.
Jared rolled his eyes. Love you, Nana.
Love you more, Cutie.

U home 2nite? his mom texted.

Yup.

Luv ur guts.

She was probably drunk and lonely but he read it and reread it, swallowing. Back atcha.

Sarcastic lil shit ur lucky I luv u nuff not to murder u in ur sleep.

Ya, ya.

Get ur rotten ass home b4 I hunt u down.

I have pizza.

Best son ever.

Science had a pop quiz. French had homework due he hadn’t done. At lunch, he ate a stale croissant with no-name margarine that he’d scored from the food bank. Spring had sprung. The grass needed cutting, the fridge was making noises and he had no idea how he was going to make the bills. He thought that was probably part of the punishment. If he was going to pay his dad’s bills, then he was going to pay his mom’s. She had a Biblical sense of justice. Eye for an eye, bill for a bill.

“Are you still helping him?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you pawn the TV?”

“You took off, but we still had bills.”

She took another deep, slow breath. “I was pissed. You have no idea what it took not to strangle you.”

“Yeah,” Jared said. “That’s love.”

She side-eyed him. “That’s the only thing that kept you from being mulch.”

All he seemed to be doing these days was crying. Why stop now, he thought, as he bent over and put his head on the table. He didn’t care if Nana—if Sophia killed him. She’d been his lifeline when things got dark. She’d been the one person who could make the crap seem less crappy. And she hated him now. And he hated himself and his life, and he heard himself choking on his own snot and he was disgusted but he couldn’t stop.

“I want to shake your hand,” Mr. Wilkinson said. And he held out his hand, and he was attracting attention, so Jared reluctantly shook. “It took a lot of guts to come here. I wish I’d been as together as you are when I was your age. I’m proud of you, Jared.”

Jared started crying. Leaking tears. And then bawling and shaking. And feeling like a phony and a loser. Mr. Wilkinson wrapped his arms around him and let him cry.

Nana Sophia kissed him. “And I love you and I would never hurt you. But if you weren’t Philip’s and your momma tried to pass you off as his, I’d have slit her throat and left her in a ditch to die like a dog.”

Jared bumped off a couple of trees as he sped down, laughing his ass off as Kelsey tumbled past him. He was declared the loser, and had to spin a plastic cocoon around Blake, who kangaroo-hopped over to Kelsey and jumped up to kick him.

Afterwards, Jared took the bus back to their neighbourhood and helped Mrs. Jaks shovel the snow out of her driveway while Mr. Jaks searched the house for snow tires for the car they’d sold. They had venison pie for supper. She asked him if he could watch Mr. Jaks on Wednesday while she went to a doctor’s appointment. She promised to make his favourite, spaghetti with moose meatballs.

She was going to be so pissed if—when—she found out he was helping out his dad. Jared didn’t want to live with his dad. He wasn’t picking sides. God, no. He just didn’t want his dad to be homeless. He didn’t want to worry about her reaction, but it wiggled around the back of his mind like a melody that you hummed without thinking.

The money is for YOU, she wrote. I mean it.
Destiny’s having her baby soon.
My pretty, pretty enabler. Repeat after me: I’m not responsible for the crappy decisions of the grown-ups in my life.
Jared rolled his eyes. Love you, Nana.
Love you more, Cutie.

U home 2nite? his mom texted.

Yup.

Luv ur guts.

She was probably drunk and lonely but he read it and reread it, swallowing. Back atcha.

Sarcastic lil shit ur lucky I luv u nuff not to murder u in ur sleep.

Ya, ya.

Get ur rotten ass home b4 I hunt u down.

I have pizza.

Best son ever.

Science had a pop quiz. French had homework due he hadn’t done. At lunch, he ate a stale croissant with no-name margarine that he’d scored from the food bank. Spring had sprung. The grass needed cutting, the fridge was making noises and he had no idea how he was going to make the bills. He thought that was probably part of the punishment. If he was going to pay his dad’s bills, then he was going to pay his mom’s. She had a Biblical sense of justice. Eye for an eye, bill for a bill.

“Are you still helping him?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you pawn the TV?”

“You took off, but we still had bills.”

She took another deep, slow breath. “I was pissed. You have no idea what it took not to strangle you.”

“Yeah,” Jared said. “That’s love.”

She side-eyed him. “That’s the only thing that kept you from being mulch.”

All he seemed to be doing these days was crying. Why stop now, he thought, as he bent over and put his head on the table. He didn’t care if Nana—if Sophia killed him. She’d been his lifeline when things got dark. She’d been the one person who could make the crap seem less crappy. And she hated him now. And he hated himself and his life, and he heard himself choking on his own snot and he was disgusted but he couldn’t stop.

“I want to shake your hand,” Mr. Wilkinson said. And he held out his hand, and he was attracting attention, so Jared reluctantly shook. “It took a lot of guts to come here. I wish I’d been as together as you are when I was your age. I’m proud of you, Jared.”

Jared started crying. Leaking tears. And then bawling and shaking. And feeling like a phony and a loser. Mr. Wilkinson wrapped his arms around him and let him cry.