The Answer Is: Jamison Coburn

June 15, 2015

I’d like you to get to know Jamison a bit better.

Excerpt:

“You gonna eat with me, baby?”

Jamison turned toward his mother, Alanna, who stood in the back door of her house watching him. He wondered how long she’d been standing there, and he suddenly felt guilty. The original reason for stopping by was to see her, catch up with whatever was going on in her life, but instead he’d ended up working on his latest piece in her garage. He’d heard it calling to him, urging him: finish me, make me pretty, show me off.

His living arrangement didn’t leave any space to store his equipment, let alone use it. Jamison supposed a decluttering of the Standleas’ garage—a family’s furniture and keepsakes collected over the decades—could make room. But deep down he knew keeping his equipment where it was would please his mother. It meant he would always come back. Tonight she probably thought he was avoiding her, but that wasn’t his intention. Unfortunately, now he had to leave.

“No, ma’am. Thank you, but I’m taking dinner over to Lonnie. He’s babysitting tonight.”

He saw disappointment play over her beautiful features, but she quickly brightened.

“How is that new baby?” she asked as he shut down and secured any tools he’d used.

“He’s fine, but Remmy’s just a month or so old, Mama. He doesn’t do much.” He just sort of lies there… and leaks.

He turned off the light and locked up before joining her at the back door. After following her inside, he turned on the security light and bolted the door behind them.

“Everything a baby does, no matter how tiny they are, is precious. It’s hard to believe you were ever that small. And Remmy? What sort of name is that?”

“Short for Rembrandt. Some famous painter.”

“Lordy, what will these people think of next?” she asked as she opened the refrigerator and removed a pie dish.

Jamison’s mouth began to water at the thought of homemade peach pie.

“Does he… does your friend babysit his nephew a lot?”

Jamison shrugged. “Uh… so far the baby’s been passed back and forth between his parents and grandparents. This is Claude and Amber’s first night out in weeks, and since Claude’s parents finally left, Lonnie’s jumping at the chance to have Remmy all to himself tonight before the next pair of grands arrives in a couple of days.”

“Well… do you think you should intrude?” she asked as she cut two pieces of pie and placed them on a sturdy paper plate.

“Intrude?” Jamison frowned as she secured a sheet of plastic wrap over the pie and plate. “I’m surprising him with dinner. I….” He hesitated as he thought it over. “I don’t think he’ll see it as intruding, Mama.”

She nodded without looking at him, then sighed. “Where are the other grandparents?”

“In France. There’s a family farm there.”

She nodded. “I see.”

“They were supposed to be here right after the little guy arrived, but since the paternal grands were already here, they decided to take their time, get Great-Grandma Bellerose ready to travel.”

She nodded and held out the pie-filled plate. “Take this with you for dessert, baby.”

Jamison smiled. “Thanks, Mama. I appreciate it.” He leaned in and kissed her still-smooth cheek. “Lonnie will appreciate it too.” He held the plate in one hand and bent over to hug her tiny frame with the other arm. “You know, if you’d like to meet—”

She pulled away suddenly and held up a hand to silence his suggestion. “No… no, baby. This is fine. Just fine,” she said, not looking at him. “You have a good night with your friend.”

Jamison deflated a bit and allowed her to usher him to the door. “Good night, Mama. I promise to spend more time with you next time.” As always, she watched until he climbed in his truck, then shut her door. He stared out his windshield at the neighborhood, the streetlights creating puddles of illumination every few yards, and wondered at her comment. What does “I see” mean? Does it mean anything? No. He was reading shit into it, feeding it with his own doubts about him and Lonnie. They enjoyed each other. What else mattered?

Before starting the truck, he glanced at the house again and caught his mother peeking at him through a curtain. As he pulled away from the curb, he tapped out a quick good-night on his horn, then turned onto Little Avenue and headed for Ming Empire to pick up dinner.

*****

Please leave a comment below and tell me what you thought.

4 Responses to “The Answer Is: Jamison Coburn”

  1. Angela says:

    Thanks for the excerpt, loved it especially this line and i quote:

    “Short for Rembrandt. Some famous painter”

    I’m from the Netherlands and we are very proud of some famous painter LOL

  2. H.B. says:

    Thank you for the excerpt. The dynamic between Jamison and his mom was interesting to see.

  3. Dawn says:

    Thank you, Angela and H.B. :)

  4. I enjoy, lead to I found just what I used to be looking for.

    You have ended my 4 day lengthy hunt! God Bless you man.
    Have a nice day. Bye

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